As John Muir said… so many things. The world is big, and I want to take a good look at it before it gets dark. In God’s wildness lies the hope of the world. I could go on, I do go on, but really, the man said most of what there was to be said about why we should go outdoors.
Going to the woods is going home. Which is why, even though it was going to be over 90 degrees and humid this past weekend, even though work has been knocking me on the ground and kicking my ass, even though carrying a 30 pound pack over rocky terrain in 90 degree weather is like a checklist of everything a lady in my “condition” isn’t supposed to do, Raven and I filled our packs with clothes and snacks and gatorade powder and pursued our favorite mutual pastime.
And it was worth it. It was worth learning that hiking is harder now than it has ever been, worth being drenched and dizzy and exhausted, worth the several dozen mosquito bites that are now making me feel a little crazy, because when we set up our tent in that little glen and laid down, muscles weary, everything was better than it has been for months. I felt more like myself and more inside myself than I have in months. So that was nice.
We also got to watch the above-pictured snake slither out of the woods and across the path at ludicrous speed to snatch up a frog in its jaws. I’ve never seen a snake catch something before, and I’ve never heard a sound like the squeaks that frog made. I didn’t love this, but it was fascinating. Nature, red in tooth and claw. You guys do your thing, and I’ll try not to feel too bad about it.
I’d like to say that next time, I’m bringing a bathing suit to jump in one of those lakes. But we all know that isn’t true, because next time, I’ll be far too “condition”-y to even consider letting the world see that much of me.
Even if “the world” is just the odd hiker or two.
And hikers can certainly be odd.