Gideon’s Challenge

IMG_4675Encouraged

I see
a little bear face
nestled
among the moss
on a hike
among the trees
and draping ferns.
A painted bear face
that brightens
my heart
and suddenly
each step
is a bit lighter.

Painted rocks are all the rage around here these days.  You can find them in the city, in the park, on hikes… just about everywhere if you pay attention.  Usually, the hikes I go on are a little too strenuous for those that do the whole “painted rock thing”, not to mention who would want to haul rocks on a hike?   I found this one on one of the easier hikes, though, just waiting off the trail in some moss to peek out and encourage a smile.

Photo © ZenStatePhotography

Gideon’s Challenge

Spirit2Spirit…
lifts and lightens
from within
it’s ever present
yet often ignored
until the moment
it sparks
inspired
to shimmer
and shine.

I am a big supporter of the “leave nothing but footprints” mentality of visiting the forests and spending time there.   That said?  I have to admit that finding this little colorful rock hidden along a trail through the wetlands early in the spring lent me a little extra glimmer of extra spirit to my soul.

You find these rocks in the parks here a lot lately. That little lift this one gave me is their purpose. You are encouraged to pick them up and take them with you when you find one.  I chose to leave this one behind to lift another’s spirits just as it had my own.

Photo © ZenStatePhotography

Weekly Creativity Prompt – The Walk

Pull (at least) three cards and use them to… describe a walk outside.

Akira Uno's Spiritual Tarot

The Hike – 3500 Feet in 3.2 Miles

Strength – Exiting the car is the easiest part of the day.  The little gray Prius is parked in the small lot hidden among the trees and he exits the car to pull out his pack.   Turning off his phone it is slipped into one of the pockets of the pack before the small daypack is slid onto his back and the trunk is closed.

Moving to the trailhead, he pauses at a post with a wooden box upon it.  Lifting the lid, as expected, what is found inside is a notebook and a tethered pencil.  The pencil is picked up and his name is written down along with the date and the time, as well as the anticipated time he would be on the trail.   The box is then closed and left behind as he moves to take the first steps upon the spongy soft ground of the trail.

Following the path to a small bridge that crosses a busily babbling stream, booted feet find the other side and he looks up the sheer face before him.  Breathing deeply the damp, musty air filled with the scents of evergreens and decay, his gaze follows the zigzag of the trail going up the mountain as far as the trees will allow.

The hike to the top is just over three miles, with an elevation change of 3500 feet in that short distance.  Nearly 1200 feet of elevation per mile of trail making it one of the most difficult trails accessible to the general pubic.

Hanged Man – As he makes his way along the switchback trail, following the long stretches of straight that zigzag up the mountain and sharp turns at the end of each, muscles stretch and blood pumps.  His body protests as his body demands more oxygen to fuel the effort put fort as each step along the path is the same as taking a double step on a staircase… without the staircase.

Using roots and rocks as footholds, each breath becomes an agony and a pleasure at once, the fresh air filling his lungs even as his lungs ache greedily for more and more.  A sheen of sweat coating flesh blending a hint of clean sweat and personal scent into the damp crispness of the air.

But over time, the body adjusts and breathing evens out.  Refusing to stop, refusing to pause and catch his breath or rest, the agony increases and increases… and then finally begins to fade.  To shift as the fire in muscles turns into a warm, wobbly burn.

Judgement – Each quarter mile is marked, but it is not those markers he seeks but rather the green sign with white letters high up upon a tree where the trail finally splits.  The words “Summit Loop” a blessing.   It is the holy grail that does not truly mean the end… but rather a shining light of hope that tells him that he’s done good and is getting there.

When he comes upon that split in the trail and the beautiful sign, he finally takes a moment to pause in the bliss of being over half way there.  A hand lifting to press against the stitch that quickly develops in his side as his body’s adjustment to the extreme exertion now tries to settle and relax.

Pulling off his pack, he pauses to down half a bottle of water, and finish off a couple of protein bars, his back resting against one of the trees off-path as he looks up at the gray sky and lets the crisp bite in the air at this new elevation cool him down and dry the sweat on his skin.

Justice – Eventually he has to get up and continue upon his climb, and his body screams in protest as muscles that had tightened up now object to rising and joints that are stiffened try to move.

Familiar with the trail, he takes the left side of the split, choosing to take the steepest part of the loop first so that he climbs it rather than giving his knees the agony of trying to going down that incline.   Muscles screaming and lungs aching once more, he pays for his break upon the spit in the trail with a steep decrease in the stamina he’d gained over the nearly two miles he’d hiked thus far.

As he continues to climb upon the trail, trees become more scarce and the spongy earth beneath his feet turns harder, jutting rocks breaking through the soil become footholds on the incline as he pushes on, forcing his body to keep moving through the pain and promising that it will be worth it once he reaches the peak.

The Hermit – As he climbs this steepest part of the trail, the treeline opens up.  Jagged silvery spikes of an old forest fire open up the view on one side of the trail, the other side filled with sparse woodland that slopes down and away the way he had come.

Here and there remnants of snow linger on the ground, tucked into the crevices of rocks and grooves between tree roots.  Scenic views of the valley beyond, the peak of another climb not far off, and the large shimmering lake far below greet him and soothe the pain even as he continues on, fresh air now crisp and cold chills the tip of his nose and his cheeks.

Soon he arrives at at a small outcropping of rocks, and a sign that indicates that he has reached the peak of 4301 feet.  Here he stops and removes his pack, setting his ass upon the rock and tilting his head back to catch his breath.

Here he will linger.  He will sit and enjoy the view and the chill in the air. He will eat lunch and he will hydrate.  He will meditate, and he will enjoy this time alone, savoring the feel of muscles well worked and lungs washed clean of the pollution of the city so that they can be filled instead with fresh, crisp air.

Soon he will have to take the trip back down… but for now?  He will savor the fact that he is the only human for miles and soak in the peace and solitude.

DECK USED:  AKIRA UNO’S SPIRITUAL TAROT

 

Interesting Places

I really liked one of the prompts in a group I’m a member of on Discord, and I wanted to do an extended reply to it here.

Question:  Where is the most interesting place you’ve been? What did you find interesting about it?

RF3

This wasn’t a difficult question for me to answer, as I live near what I believe to be the most beautiful, captivating place on the planet.  (Not that I’ve seen the entire planet, but I have a feeling I’d be hard pressed to find anything that could out-shine it or my connection to it.)

That place? The Olympic and Cascade Rainforests of western Washington state.

I could spend an entire day exploring the moss draping from branches of trees, or the lichen on a fallen tree trunk. I could pick a spot, a single spot, and spend an entire day exploring just within that spot… and then pick another on the next day.  Another on the next.

RF1

I love that the terrain that is not flat or soft nor hard.  Instead it is rugged, with places of soft, spongy earth, and spots where the jagged rocks of the mountain beneath the soil jut out to trip you.

Speaking of tripping… I love the roots.  They are everywhere, exposed and reaching.  The earth is moist and fertile, roots lift out of it.  They fan out beneath the earth, other than these surfacing of knobs and knots that are like the joints of a swimmer poking out of the water’s surface.

RF4

Lie down on the forest floor in places like this, and even in the driest of summers, over time your clothing becomes damp and then heavy with moisture as the forest lends some of its bounty to you.

Here in this place I know the mosses and the trees, the ferns and the mushrooms; I know the slimy and wet, I know the crisp and crunchy. I know the fronds and the spores, the molds and the crumbling decay of fallen trees that give life to all that claim them home. The flora and fauna here are my family.

These rainforests are filled with life and death.  It is in the air and touches your skin, you breathe it in with every breath.  I love the rich myriad of  greens and browns, the dank and earthy smells, the muffled and whispering sounds in the kind of quiet stillness that feels sacred.  I love the damp darkness and decay that blends seamlessly with lushness of growth and green.

RF2

This is my home.

I live in the city, but it is among the trees and the moss, the decay and the growth, the earth and the water…. it is there that is home.  These places are a balm upon my soul, and no matter where I travel or whatever else I see, I do not think I could ever find any place more engaging and more interesting to me than here.