Stephanie and I went on an evening hike yesterday. We brought along our journals hoping to find a quiet spot to meditate and record the wondrous workings of our minds. We found a beautiful spot, but it was hardly quiet. The rocks were restless with insects, hundreds of frogs were arguing in the lake, friendly flies buzzed in our ears, woodpeckers emphatically knocked on the tree trunks, blue jays and cardinals showed off their vibrant colors and provided melody and harmony for Nature's symphony. This sound garden coupled with the dappled twilight of Renoir on the verdant landscape, and the potent scent of pollen and moss left one lasting impression: It's ALIVE!
2 years ago
4 comments:
Tis, indeed, alive matey. alive, Alive! In fact, I myself went for a day of hiking last week. Little Cottonwood gets angrier these days then it used to. For a while, the trail and I lost eachother so by myself I followed the once quiet creek upwards stumbling over rocks and under branches; only to feel less and less alone. I trust the mountain, if I act humbly, to keep me safe.
Are you two going environmental on me?
We've been "environmental" as you call it for some time. I'm even taking "Enviromental Policy" next semester to see what "they" know. :)
Isn't it great?
That reminds me of something I heard on the radio yesterday. A group of gang bangers in their early twenties from New Jersey were required to do community service. They were taken to a forest to clear trails and some of them were visibly afraid. One of them said, "It's so noisy."
The leader of the group said, "What are you talking about, you hear gunfire every day."
"Yeah, but there are only about five sounds in the city and I know what those mean. There are so many sounds out here and I don't know what they mean. They must mean something..."
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