the hike

After trekking through dense woodlands, the quickly-approaching clearing is a very welcome sight. I wipe the sweat from my brow — despite the morning’s chill I’ve worked up quite a sweat. The ground beneath my feet is soft with mossy ground cover still wet with dew and peppered with smooth lichen-coated stones. The morning sun streams through the few boughs overhead, a spotlight on the one large pine centered in this clearing. All of its beauty, from its thick scarred trunk to its long, slender boughs and their delicate fanning is heightened to the point of the sacred in the morning silence, as if being highlighted by the heavens. Nearby I spot a stump, dressed in lichens and moss and fungi of its own, a fallen friend of the still-standing giant before me. I take a seat, filling my lungs with as much of this fresh crisp air as they’ll allow, and this pause also gives my heart a moment to slow; I’m now at rest. The gulps of cold water are more delicious than anything else I could imagine in this moment as I revel in the luxurious sensation of quenched thirst. I’m utterly consumed by this moment, drenched in deeply rooted peace and keenly aware of a profound intimacy between myself and the world around me. I have nothing to offer but my respect and reverence as I commune with the earth here, drinking in all the wisdom and peace this moment has to offer me.