I smell the trees and taste the sun.
Have you ever tasted the sun?
The hairs on my arms stand at attention as a strange nostalgia envelops me. I haven’t been here before, but its like the ghost of every other explorer who’s helped to pack the dirt of this trail is whispering in my ear.
“Carry on. Look ahead. Breathe. Deeper. Smell. Taste.”
Is that what we crave?
The sore edges of our feet dance around rocks. We feel the heat of the sun and the gentleness of the forest-filtered air, each of these contributing to our heartbeat.
Brush against a thorn bush.
Rub the dirt off your calf.
See the valley from your hard-earned perch. Don’t just see it, though, and move on.
Let it captivate you. In just a moment it’s entirety passes through your mind; it’s trees and rocks are innumerable, the streams wandering this valley bubble without spectator. You see these. You can see the valley grow and die and grow and become what it is today, this view you entertain from your hard-earned perch.
It’s history is massive; your time races while the valley moves slowly.
You’re not here to race, to grow quickly.
Did you come to the mountain, this trail, just to hasten away from it?
Become like the valley. Let Creation take a hold of you. Let your roots dig with time.
In patience from your perch allow birds to sing and crickets to chirp. Let trickling water wear stones smooth, watch fires burn and storms quench. Remain observant and malleable.
Become like the valley.
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