The Mountains - a renewing influence

Eleven-twelve years ago...let's see, that would make Jason 17, Jeni 16, Daniel 13, and Stephanie 10...Yeah, *that* was a busy time, I was standing on my old icky deck with a dirty mop and a dirtier bucket looking at my weedy back yard and knowing that the floor I just mopped would go unnoticed and unappreciated. I wanted to cry. It was one of those days. Anyway, as I was standing there I looked up from my weedy backyard and eastward and there...there were the mountains.

Not the Uintahs but familiar Utah mountains. I was engulfed by memories of childhood camping trips, hikes, summer tobogganing on mountain snow, campfire sing-alongs with Uncle Denny, watching my Papa whittle me a spoon from a piece of kindling, wildflowers and water lilies, tadpoles and polliwogs, glimpses of timid deer and the sight and sound of stones skipping on Mirror Lake in the evening. It was such a healing experience at the time that later that evening I tried to put my feelings down on paper and came up with this...

Being Filled

I stand

with mop and bucket in hand

ready to begin another task.

My eyes, hands and body are

tied to daily chores, and worldly cares.

My list is long

and my cup is empty.

The cup that is drained

by constant giving, giving, giving.

I sigh…

The mountain breathes.

The cool wind

touches my face

and takes with it some heaviness.

As my eyes rise from the ground at my feet

to the towering peaks

my spirit travels the mountain trails,

carpeted with pungent needles.

I walk

in reverence of the beauty.

Splashes of color adorn the upward slopes

and create a symphony of visual music.

Sun on snow and grass and limb

brighten my vision.

Deep, velvet shadows bid me

to pause and listen

to the Creator’s voice.

I close my eyes

and breathe in

the peace and serenity

that my spirit craves.

I am loved.

I feel it permeate my being

and the bindings evaporate.

My soul is lighter.

My cup begins to fill.

This past week I was having another one of 'those weeks' and knew I needed a break from the valley so I suggested that we take a trip into the mountains again. I know I always feel renewed after a visit. So...yesterday Steven and I, along with Jason and his wife Jen, went up to the Uintahs for the day. Jen had never been past Heber so it was all new to her. We visited The Falls below Trial Lake where I used to go as a kid with my dad to 'shower' after a few days of camping. I'd walk away with a cold headache but that didn't matter. I was with my dad doing something 'adventurous'.

The water at the falls wasn't very swift or full, probably because of the new reservoir and dam above at the new Crystal Lake Campground, but there was water and it was still beautiful.

We walked a bit around Trial Lake campground where Steven and I took the kids camping so many times...

…then went over the ridge to visit Mirror Lake Campground…

...and found our old camping spot at the top of the hill, unoccupied. Crazy. Strange. I could pick out the places where we pitched out tents year after year. Where our picnic table always sat. The rock where I used to sit when I watched my captured polliwogs. The trees were different though. So many were gone. A horrible beetle infestation has killed soooo many trees over the past 8-10 years.

I could faintly see the trail we walked daily down to the polliwog pond, (my mother called it the local mosquito nursery) then over to Bonnie Lake…

…where I would pick lilies and lily pads for my polliwogs. I remember when my dad and his brothers would have log rolling contests on Bonnie. They'd find a likely tree, dead, chop it down, saw it into a decent sized log, cut off the offending little branches to make it safe(er), then they'd roll it into the lake, climb up on it and try to knock each other off it, one standing on one end, the other standing on the other end, and they'd roll it with their feet, back and forth. OH! how exciting that was. They all ended up drenched and muddy and laughing thar heads off. My dad was a 'god'. My mother was always so worried but I *knew* in my heart that *nothing* would ever happen to him. It was impossible.

One year, when I was a teenager, my dad and his brothers/BIL (Denny, Brent & Dick) cut down some dead trees and we had a log sawing contest with all the Aunts, Uncles and Cousins. The next day they took the logs down to the lake and with a bunch of rope they lashed them together and made a raft. After that they took two lawn chairs and lashed them to the middle of it, then led their parents (Nana & Papa) onto their raft, seated them like royalty and poled them out onto the lake. With that much weight on the raft the logs ended up sitting just below water level and it looked like everyone, chairs and people were standing/sitting on top of the water, moving as a group. Weird. Wonderful.

I could almost hear the ghosts of our laughter as I wandered. It was magical, that time in my life, and I'm so very grateful for my parents for providing us with a safe place to explore, invent, imagine, and play. I hope Steven and I were able to do a bit of the same for our kids. I think so. Each of them has a love and appreciation for the mountains and nature. That's so important.

The drive was so therapeutic. There were patches of snow everywhere when we got above Trial. We rolled down all the windows and opened the sun roof and listened to John Denver as we breathed deeply. It was funny, I was having some serious problems with allergies before we left. I felt clogged and slow. Steven predicted that it would only get worse when we got into the mountains but...it cleared right up! No problems whatsoever until we got back into the valley and I started sneezing again.

On our way home we stopped and got some awesome jerky at this tiny little store just outside of Kamas, then stopped at "Dick's", a local burger joint in Kamas and had some burgers, fries, and shakes. Very good.

Before we left the spot on the hill Steve carried a couple of large stones from there to the car so I would always have something from that magical place in my childhood. One is resting in my herb garden.

The honeysuckle and roses are overpowering this morning. The daisies are blooming and the snails have decided that they love marigolds for breakfast.