Really, I should have known then. I’ve been putting off what matters most to me creatively for nearly half my life. I have no one to blame. But I should have known. Now, things are different. My life in reboot.
I was working a 9-5 that was more like a 5-4. But I have to say, for a while it was the best job I’d ever had. For a while. But that was then. Still, even when it was good I’d made this trek. A small journey, really. But it continues to have lasting impressions.
Luckily I’m close to the mountains. I can escape whenever I want. Or really, whenever responsibilities dictate I can get away. Five minutes into a wooded trail and the world behind me is lost. My mind is clear. My pulse quickens, my brow dampens. Meditation.
It had been a good day. Even better when my responsibilities at work were complete and I could settle myself into a fifteen minute drive to get where I really wanted to be. Among the pine.
The trailhead had a few people scattered about, mainly returning to their cars. It was winter, and the sun was soon to rest. These scattered few had been up the trail already, and were lucky. Or were they?
In quiet solitude, I strapped my crampons. I zipped my coat. I hefted my pack and began.
The trail was ice and snow. And cold. In shadow. As the darkness drew closer, the trees seemed to have drawn closer as well, as if protecting me from the world outside. I was cocooned within the trail, within my thoughts. Within the mountain.
My breath, labored and visible in the failing light, accompanied each step of my boot in a cacophony of percussion and wind. I drove each muscle to get as far as I could with what little time I had. I sought true solitude, my journey rewarded.
The early travelers had left me. Me and the trail. Darkness pushed itself into my daylight. Effortlessly. And as effortlessly, I allowed the sun and the sky and the night and the stars to wash over me in a sea of color and amazing grace. Amazing grace.
I was born to wander
High and far
Among the pine
I was born to write