*I am not good with words, but this is the best I can do to describe yesterday's hike.*
I am strolling down a flat, narrow path through a dense forest. The fresh scent of pine makes the air feel clean. The woods are lovely, dark, and deep. Next to me, the Stillwater River rages, so much whitewater it looks like snow, rush rush rushing, so many miles to go in such a hurry.
I come to a meadow. It is carpeted with all manner of wildflowers- geraniums, balsamroot, forget-me-nots, blue larkspurs, dandelions. The colors are so bright they're almost neon; only nature could create such vivid hues. Big fat bumblebees and delicate butterflies flit from flower to flower, and the butterflies are occasionally distracted and flutter off to play together.
The soft cool breeze plays with my hair, which is long and flowing around my shoulders. My trusty Merrells allow my painted red toes to peek out. I stop by the river to dip my feet in and screech with shivery delight at how cold the water is.
The Beatles play in my headphones, and I sing along with no thought to who might overhear. My only audience is the birds, deer, and marmots.
In this moment, I am content. My heart is quiet. I am thinking of nothing but the beauty that surrounds me. Later on, I realize that this is what it means to be present, to live in the moment. Nothing exists outside of me and the meadow.
I am strolling down a flat, narrow path through a dense forest. The fresh scent of pine makes the air feel clean. The woods are lovely, dark, and deep. Next to me, the Stillwater River rages, so much whitewater it looks like snow, rush rush rushing, so many miles to go in such a hurry.
I come to a meadow. It is carpeted with all manner of wildflowers- geraniums, balsamroot, forget-me-nots, blue larkspurs, dandelions. The colors are so bright they're almost neon; only nature could create such vivid hues. Big fat bumblebees and delicate butterflies flit from flower to flower, and the butterflies are occasionally distracted and flutter off to play together.
The soft cool breeze plays with my hair, which is long and flowing around my shoulders. My trusty Merrells allow my painted red toes to peek out. I stop by the river to dip my feet in and screech with shivery delight at how cold the water is.
The Beatles play in my headphones, and I sing along with no thought to who might overhear. My only audience is the birds, deer, and marmots.
In this moment, I am content. My heart is quiet. I am thinking of nothing but the beauty that surrounds me. Later on, I realize that this is what it means to be present, to live in the moment. Nothing exists outside of me and the meadow.
Comments