And Tuesday Came Gently
6/13/17
Yesterday, for no particular reason, I woke up smiling. The day came gently and with a low hum of wanderlust. A good day for climbing mountains.
As our last-minute brigade set out for higher altitude, the air became cooler, the clouds thicker and the soft sprinkle into a bit of an onslaught. Undeterred, we parked the car and hit the trail. It is rhododendron season in Tennessee and at Roan Mountain, they are just beginning their glorious gallery. The trail is dotted with thickets of rich purple and bright orange. Beyond, ranges upon ranges of my Appalachian mountains.
The rain comes and goes, but it is not unwelcome. It is ones of those summer thunderstorms that is anything but ominous. I lift my arms, breath deeply, and savor each sensation. We reach the top of a grassy bald and pause to watch the sunset. It's too cloudy to see it, really, but the light reflects through the clouds so nicely that it's just as well. We hike back down in the dusk light and, having lost any will to stay dry, splash through the muddy puddles. I run my hands over the low shrubbery and taste the sweetness of the cool water pooled in little drops on the leaves.
Late that night, my sleepy head at last layed heavily on my pillow, and my heart beat slow the rhythm of contentment. All is well.
J.S
Yesterday, for no particular reason, I woke up smiling. The day came gently and with a low hum of wanderlust. A good day for climbing mountains.
As our last-minute brigade set out for higher altitude, the air became cooler, the clouds thicker and the soft sprinkle into a bit of an onslaught. Undeterred, we parked the car and hit the trail. It is rhododendron season in Tennessee and at Roan Mountain, they are just beginning their glorious gallery. The trail is dotted with thickets of rich purple and bright orange. Beyond, ranges upon ranges of my Appalachian mountains.
The rain comes and goes, but it is not unwelcome. It is ones of those summer thunderstorms that is anything but ominous. I lift my arms, breath deeply, and savor each sensation. We reach the top of a grassy bald and pause to watch the sunset. It's too cloudy to see it, really, but the light reflects through the clouds so nicely that it's just as well. We hike back down in the dusk light and, having lost any will to stay dry, splash through the muddy puddles. I run my hands over the low shrubbery and taste the sweetness of the cool water pooled in little drops on the leaves.
Late that night, my sleepy head at last layed heavily on my pillow, and my heart beat slow the rhythm of contentment. All is well.
J.S
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