Hiking in Glacier National Park

I tentatively step onto the trail and let my pupils adjust to the dim light.  Sun light attempts to punch through the canopy but listless, defeated photons litter the fertile soil.  When the breeze picks up, they flop around and try to be more cohesive, but they always fail.

At first glance, the trees appear to be conformists – all generally the same as they take shape around their environment.  But when you look closer, you see them defying gravity, growing in the most inhospitable of places, some with their fingers clenched around boulders, and others struggling to survive after being ravaged by fire. 

Today I am glad that my knee hurts and forces me to slow down.  I continuously scan the forest, my head bobbing back and forth like I’m watching a tennis match, always on the lookout for wildlife.  Eventually, I stop looking for movement and just admire the life surrounding me. 

I walk past a stoic lavender boulder trying to shake off a blanket of moss but he is unable to overcome his paralysis.  The ever-present cacophony of mountain streams bloated with snowmelt is muffled by hemlock, cedar, and fir.

When my eyes wander across the trees, the arrangement appears to be random at first, but they almost have an elegant mathematical precision – a comforting consistency in this land of fallen warriors.  They have the posture of military men.  Perhaps they are saluting each other or the towering granite peaks above them.

The darkness in these woods swallows insecurity and hides secrets.  The trees laugh with disdain as I start to contemplate the meaning and purpose of my life.  The largest branches sag under the weight of wisdom and they wrap their gnarled arms around my shoulders and whisper to me.

I wonder why I feel so comfortable walking among giants.  Maybe the texture, sounds, and oxygen rich air provide a sensory overload that forces me to be present with every step I take.  I know I am a guest here, but as I keep strolling, the ferns smile at me and branches keep cradling my back, ushering me forward.  They are welcoming me into their home and handing me a cup of coffee, a comfy armchair next to the fireplace, and the Sunday paper.  I graciously accept the offer and flip to my horoscope.

Cancer
June 21 – July 22

Never stop searching.  You’ll find what you’re looking for in unexpected places if you keep your heart and your mind open. 

Lucky numbers are a crock.  Play lotto if you want, but the odds are terrible.