"Climb the mountains and get their good tidings.
Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees.
The winds will blow their own freshness into you...
While cares will drop off like autumn leaves."
The picture was taken on my last camping trip with M. in Virginia--a fallen tree exposing the source of the many years of steady growth...the roots. I contemplated this tree for quite a while, broken as it was by some savage storm--yielding to it, splitting open, with some wisdom of surrender to the elements I really want to learn. Now, I am ready to lose myself in the endless green once again. M. and I leave in a few hours to go camping--just the two of us. We have ventured through campgrounds and wild places in Shenandoah National Park, New Hampshire's impenetrable forests, and Maine's rocky coastline...but, never before without our children.
I plan to take Muir's words with me...climbing mountains and asking for their greeting, watching trees absorb sunshine for hours if that is what moves me, opening my arms for the winds to blow through my bones, and letting cares drop off however they may. Muir's words...ten years worth of interrupted conversations with M. to punctuate the silence...the language of nature...and the random wandering of my own pen. Back to my roots--the humble origin of everything...