A howling of gentle pitter-patter roused me from sleep. I lift my head 12 inches off the silk pillowcase and peer, groggy eyed, out the window. The light is soft, low, and almost nonexistent in this early hour. The sun will be rising shortly, but it’s unlikely to be seen from my vantage; rain and wind are my companions. The clock on my phone reads 6:15 am and I can’t help but feel a pull from somewhere, like an invisible string attached to my innermost, tugging at my consciousness. I’ve slept well, the traffic non-existent. Sometimes the obvious is the most secluded.
I perform my daily breakfast routine, coffee and oatmeal, from the shelter of a nearby tree. The rain has morphed into a slight mist and doesn’t permeate my outer layers. I decide it’s best to eat in the driver’s seat, admiring the crashing waves, rather than test the power of a persistent brume. I crack the window, better voices can be soft, and decide to pick up the fishmonger’s tale (not the book title). After an hour and the cessation of rain, it’s time to stretch.
I decide to walk a more interior path versus one outlining the coast. It’s nice to keep the scenery varied and appreciated. As I arrive at the trailhead I look at the bear spray resting solemnly in the cup holder between seats and think, “The bears should be waking up soon”. With that thought, I choose to leave the spray where it lays and go on my way ;). The trail is currently in every condition imaginable, e.g., muddy, snow covered, icy, dry, missing, and covered in deadfall. Truly, I enjoy this diversity and welcome the enjoyment, but mostly it’s snow covered. I pass black spruce, alder, poplar, aspen, and white spruce along the way. The wildlife, exceptions being the ravens and magpies, remain elusive to my vision but are evident from their markings. Moose droppings periodically dot the trail, a few porcupine quills rest alongside the barkless base of an aspen, and lynx tracks scatter the snow like interstate interchanges. Nature is a beautiful place.
When I return to the car I make a peanut butter and jelly to satisfy my hunger and spend a little time at the trailhead. I must confess; it’s nice to just sit and relax after a walk. Leaving the wilderness I head back to town so I have enough service to call a friend. He’s a third shifter and it should be later in the evening where he is. I was lucky, he answered. I spent the next hour catching up and sharing in loves reunion. Sometimes warmth doesn’t come from a physical source.
The rest of my day is spent in quiet reflection upon the banks of a lady’s voice. Life is worth living.
“ Only in the present do things happen ” ~Jorge Luis Borges
RighteouslyUnscripted 