A Morning At The Canyon

Theres nothing quite like waking up at the cabin, surrounded on all sides by forest. When woodpeckers and blue larks fill the air with cheerful bantering song, and the radient morning sun pierces through the chill tree limbs painting efforvescent green foliage and deep brown bark with patches of glowing warmth. Words like 'serene' and 'peaceful' come to mind but dont do it justice. Its a hopeful place full of life. ants marching in their disciplined lines up trees, where squirrels dart around and leap through the air chasing each other around the laborynth of branches, bees flys nats and bugs buzzing about, a deer or two navigating the precipitous rocky slopes between the brush, an occasional bear looking for an easy meal. Its also a harsh environment in a state of constant erosion and decay. The rocks tumble off the mountain one by one as the universes clock turns. No patch of land will be left uncovered for long as trees endlessly shed their dead parts to make room for new. Nature is a quiet terror. Devouring anything too weak to survive without comment or reflection. As it should be. A woodpecker snatches a grub from some vertical trench in the tree bark. A spider suckles the moth snagged in his lare the night before. But for these first few hours everday hope returns. Life running through the veins of those fortunate enough to have it flows with conviction. I will miss listening to the stream on these quiet mornings and the owls hooting on moonlit nights. but despite the lack of vigour with which i have to leave i will also always have this place with me in the form of a growing desire to spend more time in nature. Its an education from which i can take valuable lessons into my next adventures. Owning a cabin in Big Bear? Hiking the PCT? Joining the forest service?


- Posted from the Road