Finding Our Way

“In every walk with nature one receives far more than he seeks.” 

~John Muir

  Under the shade of our umbrella, Chad-o and I found ourselves engrossed in a new pile of magazines.  While we read, we chatted and discussed and sipped tea, all-the-while enjoying the sun and warmth of a Sunday morning.  

An adventurous hike, on an unknown trail, wasn't on our to-do list.

Oh well. So much for the list.  

Weekends mean relaxing and de-stressing, so we fired up the Internet, looked up the trail we wanted, and set out for our adventure.

Charlie wants it to be known that she ventured leash-free for the entire hike.  She's quite the independent rebel these days. (Clap your paws, please- per her request.)

Truth be told, our destination served as the Laurel Highlands Hiking Trail Bridge that crosses the Pennsylvania Turnpike.  Finding the real trail proved a bit more difficult that originally thought.

But find it we did.   

While hiking along, we came across a mailbox attached to a tree.

Inside, we found a waterproofed journal, full of documented experiences and anecdotes from fellow hikers.

I found sincere amazement at the respect and care people took to preserve the trail and the thoughts of those who have gone before.

Chad-o took the liberty of writing our sentiments, while I lurked about taking photos.

Of course, a true note from us would contain our signature marking:

CCCT

(A code that, contrary to popular belief, has yet to be cracked.)

 After one last hill and uneven set of rocky steps,

we reached our ultimate destination.

I can't tell you how many hundreds of times I've traveled under that bridge.  Honestly, for many years- all through college- that bridge served as a happy symbol.  I'd pass under that bridge and think to myself, "I'm home."

What a great adventure and a fabulously wonderful new perspective.

Remember That Bike Ride?

"Cycle tracks will abound in Utopia." 

~ H.G. Wells

Dear Self,

Remember that bike ride?  The one that you and Chad-o completed on the second of June?

Do you remember all 62 miles?  Do you remember how the first 30 miles were completely uphill, against the wind?  And the second 30 miles?  Well, I trust you won't forget them, either?

 Do you remember how much you loved those skittles and how you mastered the art of eating pretzels while peddling? 

Will you ever forget how wonderful it felt to shower and eat a pizza and nap?  

***

June 2, 2012

Chad-o and I participated in a 62 mile bike ride benefit for the Salvation Army.

Good times.  Good times.

Biking Kick-Off

"Whenever I see an adult on a bicycle, I have hope for the human race." 

~ H.G. Wells

\

 We kicked off our biking (and eating) adventures today.  

Bring on summer.  

On Finding Contentment and Listening

"The very nature of Joy makes nonsense of our common distinction between having and wanting." 

~C.S. Lewis

The blankets just emerged from the dryer and Charlie has completely buried herself, allowing only the tops of her ears to poke through.  Precious critter, she loves a warm pile of handmade afghans and blankies, and I can't blame her a teeny-tiny little bit.

It's been one of those weekends-  a slipper wearing, pony-tail sporting, get things accomplished type of weekend. With the weather taking a cold turn and the skies a messy soup of gray, gray-er, and black, I've had motivation to stay put, enjoy my surrounding, spend time with my little family, and tackle a few homemaker-ish types of responsibilities.  

It was one of those days where I found myself in love with this little house and this little life.  I enjoyed the squeak of the kitchen door as I made trip after trip up and down the basement steps with basket upon basket of laundry.  I found some kind of serenity looking out the kitchen window and watching the yellow finches stop for a snack at the feeder.  I found so much happiness in ironing and laundry and making our dinner (now cooking in the crock-pot).  

With every sock that was rolled, every precisely folded towel, and each carefully ironed button-down shirt I felt grateful.  And I mean really, really grateful.

It's kind of strange, really.  I look around this life and I am ever so satisfied.  

You should probably know that for quite a long time I've wanted to add another waggly tail to this abode.  I wanted another fur-friend to love and spoil and care for.  Well, I'd finally managed to convince Chad-o that another dog was a great, marvelous, if not all around fantastic idea. And so it was, this spring another little puppy was to grace the residence of 403.

But, remember my belief in signs?  Remember how they visit me in the most unusual of times?

We were hiking. 

We were having ourselves the most wonderful of afternoons, having just had a delicious lunch at a quaint little cafe.  To be honest, I wasn't even thinking about puppies or dogs or even my little Charlie T.  I was engrossed in the moment, plodding along a river, carefully watching my step and working to avoid soggy feet.

And then, from between the rays of a shinning sun and the breeze of a gentle wind, I heard it.  I heard the familiar whisper and I knew.  

That was that.  The decision was made.  Not the answer and decision I really wanted, but the best, most responsible one, for now.

It's so very interesting how things come about.  I'm always fascinated at how answers and solutions so clearly present themselves.  

As difficult as it is to place our "wants" to the side, it is most important and imperative that we do what is truly best- best for us and our current situations. 

Finding contentment in such a crazy, fast-paced, instant-gratification society is a gift.  

The here and now is good.  Really good.  Beyond good. 

I understand the message.  I really tried to take all I could from that gentle whisper.  

I am so grateful.  I am so blessed.  There is nothing more that I need. 

This life that I have with the people I am surrounded by is enough.  

It is enough.  

Charlie is enough.

Getting Greener

"Green thoughts emerge from some deep source of stillness which the very fact of winter has released."

- Mirabel Osler

Last Sunday Chad-o and I grabbed our gear and embarked on a hiking and fishing adventure.  As he busied himself catching those poor trout, I found myself lost in thought- amazed at the beating heart of nature. 

All around me, life was pulsating, emerging and thriving.

The smallest, yet strongest forms of life were being born.  

Tiny, delicate and fragile, the most minuscule spores of moss prepared to carpet the forest floor.

Ranging in color from bright Kelly green to tender golden yellow, the mosses found within the forest are as unique and beautiful as the numerous races of people that pepper the face of this great globe.

But however different, they all have a softness and strength that is gentle yet formidable, delicate yet intense.

Deep inside the forest, Nature is busy.

The preparations are well underway.

An Adventure

"In all things of nature there is something of the marvelous."

~Aristotle

Thanks to insanely warm, unseasonable February weather, Chad-o and I were able to enjoy a hearty hike and fishing adventure over the weekend.  After a little stop at the local diner and grabbing some hot java, we were off, slowly maneuvering the bumpy, twisty turns that lead to Laurel Hill.  

Amazingly, during our entire day, we never encountered a single person.  Not one.  The quiet resonated within my heart, allowing me to spend time with my thoughts, carefully mulling over topics and situations.  The end result, you ask?  

Peace.  Understanding.  Quiet fulfillment.

Perhaps one of my favorite parts about the day was observing Chad-o.  Many times during our hike I would wonder off, perch myself on a far-away, concealed rock or branch and just watch him.  

I'm sure that the idea of watching him sounds silly.  Maybe it even sounds weird.  But, Chad-o, you see, is amazingly precise; his motions deliberate, his movements executed tediously.  

I'm so blessed that he, too, enjoys the simple things in life.

...

Did you ever wonder about the resiliency of nature?  How, through it all, such amazing life flourishes?  In those moments I feel so small and insignificant, yet important and instrumental.  

How's that for being contradictory? 

But, it's true.

I realize the significance life holds and the true miracle that it is.

And in the still quiet of a forest full of life, I whisper words of thanks.

Because, without a doubt, I have been given a blessed life, full of love and grace.

Isn't it the simple things, like this outdoor chapel, which prove the most beautiful?  

What a perfectly wonderful location in which to talk to God.

happy sigh

 And then, in what seemed like the blink of an eye, the sun began its daily retreat, grabbing the clouds and warmth and snuggling in for a sweet slumber.   

As the temperatures dropped and the sun prepared for sleep, we made our way home, having successfully caught 5 rainbow trout and hiked many miles.

Unseasonably Warm

"And this, our life, exempt from public haunt, finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything."

~William Shakespeare

Just a few weeks ago, when it should have been snowing and blowing, we found ourselves jumping on bicycles and hitting the trails.  A far cry from typical December weather, we decided to take advantage of a rather lovely day, bike to one of our favorite little places and indulge in some yummy food at Falls Market-  simple and wonderful goodness.

The bike trail from Confluence to Ohiopyle certainty takes on multiple personalities with each season, yet we continue to befriend her, enjoying her many quirks and idiosyncrasies.  Watching the changes from spring to summer and from autumn to winter have proven humbling, as the power and instinct of nature appears ever so evident.  The bike trail, you see, is one place where the changing seasons remain welcome and necessary.  The trail knows how very important the snow, cold and winter freeze are.  Without them, the beauty of summer isn't possible.  

While I don't do church, for various reasons, I am deeply religious and spiritual.  And this, my friends, is my most favorite church in the world.  Maybe someday I'll go inside, sit at a pew and lose myself in my thoughts.  But, for now, I'm content to stay outside and offer quiet prayers and thanksgivings.  

Soon, soon, soon (fingers crossed), snow will cover this magical landscape, acting as an insulating blanket of white to trees, saplings, rocks and plants alike.