But now, a story from my journal...
Mine Pilgrimage
Out the door I go. Clothes thrown on, pack loosely filled, and food hastily eaten. I do not know myself right now, but I know that I must get out. Find peace and contemplation. The trail is steep and rocky as I start. It feels as though I will climb forever. It feels as though I am barely catching my breath or even moving my legs. This is my penance, I think to myself. For what, I do not know. My goal is the Marion Mine. So, I press on and allow little time to pity myself or dismay over the trail. The path is challenging and rewarding as I go along. Rocky, steep switchbacks give way to smooth steps through Aspen groves. The trees seem to press in on me and the path. It is as if they embrace me. A warm, welcoming, and safe embrace. I continue on past forks and signs until the shambles of the mine are in view. I stop before them in quiet celebration of my successful pilgrimage. Goal attained -- destination reached.
As I look upon the ruins of the mine -the buildings falling; beams rotting- I think of the temporary nature of man and his creations. Our ways and our efforts will all crumble in the face of time. But the mountain, the trees, and the river will continue long past our time. I am entranced by the natural surroundings. I may have reached my goal, but I desire to explore more.
I venture past the mine in shambles and follow the sound of the river. Some light scampering over rocks and trees allows me to discover a retreat. A beautiful waterfall cascades down boulders. It is small, but the sound is big and peaceful. The small river winds down through the rocks, pools at the bottom, and then continues on through the trees in the valley. The space is secluded - surrounded by trees and large rocks. There is a hidden sanctuary feel to it. Yet, a seated perch on one boulder affords me a view of not only the secluded falls and river, but also the great mountain that towers above. The tall Aspen trees seem to reach up as high as they can - like hands stretching into the blue of the sky. But the rocky cliff prevails above.
As I sit in secluded peace and allow every part of the scene to settle within me, one part catches my eye. The tiniest of details of this very beautiful scene. I look below where my feet rest to the river passing through rocks. It is fall here and the warm yellow extends from the trees down to the ground where leaves find a final resting place. In one of the smallest of eddies among the rocks, a perfect yellow aspen leaf floats. As the current passes by, the leaf spins in place. Drops of water sit lightly on top and go along for the ride. There is beauty in its motion - slowing, stopping, spinning again. Half wanting to wash away in the busy current and half wanting to stay where it is and find a resting place.
I contemplate this image among the serenity of the trees and rushing of the falls, when a cold breeze blows through the scene. My muscles tighten at the chill and I realize that it is time to depart. This sanctuary has shared with me peace and some of its limitless time. Now, I must finish that pilgrimage. The return path. It is familiar and yet everything is new.
Until the next update-
Stay healthy, tell people that you love them, and live a better story....
1 comment:
I had no idea that you have a blog! Interesting post. I look forward to hearing more about your travels...
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