Quiet is a Bandaid
I had thoughts about how this would go. Pictures in my head of my early morning hike all by myself. Communing with the rainforest. Listening, actually listening, because that’s what I was here for. Taking my time and stepping outside myself. In short, trying very hard to produce a meaningful experience in a certain place at a certain time and in a certain way.
Inevitable
I fell apart and piece myself back together in a fern-carpeted, moss-draped, tree-shaded forest threaded by a stream.
Beautiful Seasons
In talking to these old friends, I found myself saying more than once – my god, that was a beautiful season. What times we had. Not all good, of course, but on balance the beauty is the thing that shone through. The light glinting off the waves of the river, not the murkiness of the water beneath.
Aloft and Ahead
Time is different in the air, also more expansive. It must be something about my body being close to the clouds, about being suspended and propelled at the same time.