I arrive at my best conclusions when I’m hiking. Stories I’d like to write, things I’d like to try to learn… what I should have said, what I don’t regret, and what’s not too late to turn around.
Nature is my muse.
It’s not any particular season, scenery that I favor, or topographical challenge specifically. It’s all of those – independent of one another. It’s the fact that any one, if not combined with its counterparts would not work. The flavor would not be as rich – the physical impact on my body not as strenuous – the visual symphony not as awe inspiring – the experience not as memorable.
It is…
when my mind is racing and a lizard races across the path in front of me, stopping me in my tracks; that i am filled with wonder at a tiny living creature capable of halting my gait by just being…
when I am struggling to conquer an incline, my calf muscles burning, my entire body and intent focused only on finishing without stopping; that i am filled with a flood of accomplishment emotion at the top
when I realize how very small I am, in relation to the earth around me, that I feel humility and passion to protect all that is given to us without having to ask
when I press forward through the rain, dressed in inadequate gear for the weather, rain pelting my cheeks, wet clothes stuck to my body; that I feel human…
vulnerable
real
alive
©jmr/2005
[un]fortunate [im]balance 