Leaf Peeping

I hiked Welch-Dickey today, a 4.4 mile popular loop that is a decent workout and was crawling with leaf-peepers. I did my best to be friendly, and mostly was, because, after all, it is not MY mountain or MY planet; it belongs to us all, even the brats and the loud people who hike in jeans.

I did manage to go down a semi-secret side trail on one of the peaks and I had a good 20 minutes of silence, during which I put forth some intentions for my 33rd year, and meditated, and felt the sun on my face, and the sweet strong pulse of the earth underneath me. It felt so, so good. Like I was plugging in. I think I spent too much time away from the woods this summer.

When I got up there were a couple of bugs on me, one beetle, who ambled off, and a small brown spider with a velvety back, who ended up sort of straightening out his eight legs and hiding in one of the wrinkles in my pants, waiting to ambush some lunch. He and I had a great big slab of rock and miles of view, reds and greens and yellows, and blue sky, and fresh air, all to ourselves for awhile. It was a real gift.