Fall Colors

A couple of weekends ago, I headed to George Washington National Forest in Virginia for a couple days of camping, hiking, and generally getting back in touch with nature. While it may not have been the most comfortable sleep of my life, it was a truly magical experience. It was a clear night with a huge full moon that illuminated the forest so brightly it was actually lighter out at midnight than it was at seven in the morning when the sun hadn't yet managed to peak out from behind the mountains. Living in the city, you get used to a sometimes frenetic pace of work and play until you collapse on the couch in physical and emotional exhaustion, able to do nothing more than stare aimlessly at the blank t.v. screen for a full twenty minutes before rousing enough to change positions before both legs fall asleep. (This might be an accurate description of me at 12:40pm today...) Though the city is filled with people busily living their lives, it can feel like a de-humanizing existence at times. In stark contrast, the woods where I slept felt ALIVE! The whistling wind, crisp, cold air, rustling leaves and dive-bombing acorns created a symphony of sound that served as a backdrop to all the nocturnal activities of unseen insects and forest creatures.



The forest denizens and I woke together at dawn getting ready for the rest of the day. Breakfast was instant oatmeal cooked over a camp stove. Briefly, I had the fantastic delusion to collect the many acorns surrounding the tent and bring them home to be shelled and crushed into acorn meal for future griddle cakes and breads. Quickly I came to my senses and realized I most definitely am neither my mother (the best cook I know) nor am I Laura Ingalls Wilder!

I took a good look around me at the trees, which the day before had appeared still to be mostly green. I am absolutely convinced that overnight the trees turned brighter shades of yellow, red, and orange just in time for my hike up to Strickler Knob. Onward and upward! Two hours later after a couple of tough rock scrambles and bouldering, I was greeted by the spectacular and breathtaking vista of the Luray Valley and New Market Gap. Mother Nature is truly an artist. She creates her masterpieces with nary a concern for who may witness her work, satisfied simply in the process.

At 2,661 feet above sea level, not a single thought or worry entered my mind, I was as present and in the moment as possible. The overwhelming beauty in front of me wiped my mind of anything but appreciation for the experience, a welcome respite from the norm.

Regretfully and inevitably, it came time to head back down the mountain. Surefooted as a billy goat or, as my hiking partner more accurately commented, as a pigeon, I managed to make my way back down and through the boulders, rocks, and crevices with only two small mishaps. Trust me, that's really good for me! Four days later as I sit at my laptop typing out this post, rock music blaring in the background, at least four different internet windows opened, and my mind racing from moment to moment concerned about past, present, and future tasks; I am comforted in the knowledge that the peace and quietude I experienced on the mountaintop is still available and waiting patiently for me to take a breath and consciously and intentionally turn my attention to the present experience.


Happy Fall everyone!