Meditative Journey

Gravel crunches underfoot, tiny rocks settle after being kicked on the path. Several miles from a road, I am on a trail of nature’s design, nestled between the tip of a mountain and seemingly endless peaks and valleys to the North.

It is quiet here, windless. The movement of my body produces the only sound. The smell is that of the Pacific Northwest, evergreen and fresh. It is a dry day, a summer day. The sun sizzles on the skin, the mouth beckons in thirst, the sweet taste of the last drink lingering.

The colors are azure blue, lime and forest green, and brown. A snow-capped mountain peaks out from the horizon, one state over, across the river to home, to Oregon.

This place feels like solitude, feels like bliss, feels like a dream awake. Closing the eyes to it all, the body still remains here, feels here, is here.

Closing the eyes again now from another home, far from Oregon, I am still there. I soak in a memory, an imprint that will never leave or forsake me. I settle into my sacred space.

You can go there too. Meet me in the middle of the mountains. Close your eyes - let’s go.