From My Journal: No Ordinary Hike

On the weekend of the super full Beltane moon, Dan and I went for a forest hike. This turned out to be no ordinary nature walk, but rather the taking of communion by a wide community. Our beloved naturalist, William Sullivan, had written an article earlier in the week for our local paper about three picturesque waterfalls near Cottage Grove. All three waterfalls were close by one another, and thus made for a day of being immersed in lush cedar and fir greenery edging quietly lapping creeks and ending each time with the grand, powerful, fountain cascade of water.

Our abundant rains made the first trail a mud bath, but as our shoes found the drier curves, the slower pace gave us time to drink in the beauty of the blooming trillium and the creative patterns of the ferns. We were heading first to Spirit Falls and the spirit of the day began to slowly unfold with the other hikers we met. As my husband mentioned, everyone will be seeking these trails after Sullivan's words of encouragement. He was right, of course, for each of the hikes brought more and more of the city populace to these woods.

Nearing the first waterfall, people would tell us of its beauty and how worth the slog through the oozing dirt. One older couple dressed in white told us this was their first hike in a decade. She had stopped to take a gulp of her inhaler and I noticed that the seat of her pants was blotched with brown, but their smiles of contentment were infectious. Quietly we stood near Spirit Falls and felt the mist kiss our faces. The creek roared louder here and pools of water gathered around the rock beds beneath. Everyone who came gave out sighs of gratitude for the wondrous day.

On the route back, it was our turn to mention the awaiting reward. And it was our turn to have a friend fall face forward in the mud. He got up, pants dirt covered, with grace and humor. He had a visible story to share with the other on-coming hikers who mentioned the use of walking sticks found at the trail's start. At our car, we laughed with the elder, mud bitten couple, giving them a cheer as they made it to the end of this first walk and talked with a Cottage Grove pair who had never heard of William Sullivan.

Back in the car, we drove to the beginning of the next hike to Moon Falls. Here the trail parking was near overflowing. As we started up the less muddy path, our local couple came beaming towards us. “You made it!” they laughed. “This falls is even more spectacular.” A ways up the trail came another younger couple who we had seen on our first hike. I gave them a sign of recognition. Most of the time Dan and I love to have nature all to ourselves, but this day felt special. Everyone we were meeting were friendly and open. We each knew how the others felt about the rare beauty they were all enjoying. We were becoming a community of earth dwellers who treasured and respected her gifts. We were also becoming a community who showed compassion if someone fell or gave encouragement for striding above aging or lovingly offered ideas for maneuvering the obstacles along the path.

“Why can't we carry these outdoor lessons of care back to the city,” I wondered. Why can't people support and love each other no matter our age, rank or serial number? From high above us, Moon Falls gushed with the power of the dozens of glaciers from whence it originated. Hikers came and respectfully gave each other private space for gazing, for snacking, for quiet conversations and meditating. To give each other space, to give each other connection, to give each other respect. This is the meaning of humanity.

© 2012