When we got up to the top of the moraine overlooking the small blue green lake that caught the discharge from the glacier off of the Secretary- Treasurer I could turn in a circle and count ten glaciers. We had just been through a short rain shower and the others wanted to go on to the next ridge. I chose to stay behind. I sat behind a boulder on the shoulder of the moraine and let my eyes wander from peak to peak.
For a long time I had looked at maps about the Yoho Valley and here it was. There were many questions in my mind about this part of the trip. My knees, my back, my heart, my age, my lack of physical fitness, my diabetes and the time between the last time I shouldered a backpack weighed on my mind. All of those fell away. I was able to get enough hiking in so the the trail was hard but fair. The trail was not as tough as it could have been and my body responded well to the challenge. In some ways it feels better than it has for months.
What a gift I had been given. Four days of beautiful clear weather. Up way high in the alpine. Sharing the hikes with my wife my daughter and son-in-law. I have had the joy of stepping out onto mountain vistas a few times in my life. There is always awe and magic there. It touches me deep down in some chord in my soul and waits there until the next time it can be plucked. Annie Dilliard in Pilgrim at Tinker Creek has a line that in paraphrase says, "it was like my whole life I had been a bell and had not known it until that moment when I was lifted and struck".
I also realize that at my age, and physical condition this may never happen to me again. The exuberant ones just think I am a slow old hiker. Half of it is the knowledge that I must take the time to savor this. Each step of these high hikes I had to treasure and burn into my heart. I had to suck the marrow from the broken spine of the Rockies on the chance that I might never be here again.
It is a physical, touchable joy that is hard to explain. It shrouds me in awe, it brings physical calmness and an inner peace like few things outside this world. I was glad to sit cloaked in awe for the hour it took the others to grab one more ridge. I just sat and listened to the wind and my breathing, surrendering to the grandeur before me. If the Lord had decided to take me then and there, it would have been alright with me. I was glad I could hear Marsha coming back so I could wipe a tear, and that she and I stayed for a bit while the young ones hiked down. My plunge steps were cushioned by joy as we went back down to the hut. I really don't remember the hike out the next day except that it was slow and deliberate and I had a smile on my face. Some people get stuck someplace and walk out saying, "Well, that is an hour of my life I will never get back". For me that hour is one that will always stay with me.
Don't the days grow shorter as the hours go by,
You never get to stop and open your eyes,
Spirits open to a thrust of grace,
Never a breathe you can afford to waste...
For a long time I had looked at maps about the Yoho Valley and here it was. There were many questions in my mind about this part of the trip. My knees, my back, my heart, my age, my lack of physical fitness, my diabetes and the time between the last time I shouldered a backpack weighed on my mind. All of those fell away. I was able to get enough hiking in so the the trail was hard but fair. The trail was not as tough as it could have been and my body responded well to the challenge. In some ways it feels better than it has for months.
What a gift I had been given. Four days of beautiful clear weather. Up way high in the alpine. Sharing the hikes with my wife my daughter and son-in-law. I have had the joy of stepping out onto mountain vistas a few times in my life. There is always awe and magic there. It touches me deep down in some chord in my soul and waits there until the next time it can be plucked. Annie Dilliard in Pilgrim at Tinker Creek has a line that in paraphrase says, "it was like my whole life I had been a bell and had not known it until that moment when I was lifted and struck".
I also realize that at my age, and physical condition this may never happen to me again. The exuberant ones just think I am a slow old hiker. Half of it is the knowledge that I must take the time to savor this. Each step of these high hikes I had to treasure and burn into my heart. I had to suck the marrow from the broken spine of the Rockies on the chance that I might never be here again.
It is a physical, touchable joy that is hard to explain. It shrouds me in awe, it brings physical calmness and an inner peace like few things outside this world. I was glad to sit cloaked in awe for the hour it took the others to grab one more ridge. I just sat and listened to the wind and my breathing, surrendering to the grandeur before me. If the Lord had decided to take me then and there, it would have been alright with me. I was glad I could hear Marsha coming back so I could wipe a tear, and that she and I stayed for a bit while the young ones hiked down. My plunge steps were cushioned by joy as we went back down to the hut. I really don't remember the hike out the next day except that it was slow and deliberate and I had a smile on my face. Some people get stuck someplace and walk out saying, "Well, that is an hour of my life I will never get back". For me that hour is one that will always stay with me.
Don't the days grow shorter as the hours go by,
You never get to stop and open your eyes,
Spirits open to a thrust of grace,
Never a breathe you can afford to waste...
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