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Today's song is a classic from Johann Sebastian Bach, a movement from one of his most well-known, secular cantatas. The song is Schafe können sicher weiden (Sheep May Safely Graze), the song that my mother and father walked down the aisle to.
Yesterday I went for an impromptu hike, an attempt to quell the boiling anger COVID-19 has stirred up in my heart over the smallest of inconveniences. Rather than drone on about the experience, I'll give you the pictures I took with sparing commentary. I hope you enjoy the scenes along with my selection from "the most relaxing Bach album in the world... ever!" (at least as far as this publisher was concerned).
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The works of man uprooted. Poetic justice, really.
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Many paths ahead, and none are wrong. I took the middle way
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Hikers love leaving gifts for one another... more on that later.
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The fungi seemed to love something about this stump. I did too.
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Moss is one of my favorite things, and this path seemed like its favorite thing.
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I took a detour off the asphalt when I spotted this foot trail leading towards the sounds of rushing water.
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This tree was posing nicely, begging for me to take the shot.
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Maybe the ancient instincts took over. I felt compelled to follow the stream for a while.
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I'm sure someone had an interesting story to tell about this.
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I spied a cave...
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Then that ancient sense of curiosity took over, so I had to get closer.
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This pentagram persuaded me that backtracking or crawling across the fallen tree to reach the cave wasn't worth it.
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The other collection of symbols nearby further confirmed my decision to backtrack to the main trail.
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Something elegant about the way these roots allow themselves to be seen.
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I was happy to visit his clearing next to the stream twice as I worked back towards the main trail. This spot was marked by a collection of evergreens, and the birds loved to hang around this spot. They sung to me from above, like little angels.
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I packed up in my car and got ready to leave, but then a car came down the mountain road. In the short moment that it sped by I noticed that it was covered in snow, and that ancient sense of curiosity led me yet again.
The drive up the mountain was pleasant, but the snow there wasn't nearly as impressive as the vehicle made it appear. Nonetheless, I continued to the peak of the mountain. I was hungry by then, and driving isn't something I consider a fun pastime, so I made the decision to turn around in a "subdivision" I knew of at the top of the mountain. I say subdivision, but it's more like a few houses along a nice, paved road that ends with a fence that says "PRIVATE PROPERTY." I just so happen to know that beyond that fence is a large community of individuals that live in trailers. A friend of mine from high school used to live there, and I would often take him home after school during my Junior year (Nice guy, rough upbringing. His brother had struggled with childhood leukemia, predictably a thin boy, but alive and well to this day).
As I began the drive down the mountain I passed the upper trail entrance. I had forgotten the upper trail entrance existed! This meant I could easily get to the overlook without committing to a demanding hike. How could I pass that up?
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Blessed symmetry.
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Blessed asymmetry.
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The upper trail: steep and rocky. Some views must be earned.
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It seems I took a wrong turn.... This path led down to the creek, not up to the overlook.
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Dead, lichen-infested tree. The perfect symbol for my resolve at that point.
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Pleasant patch of lichen that made its home on a cozy stone.
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I can hear my knees screaming, "You'll regret this in the morning."
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These rocks didn't ask me to climb them, but they demanded my attention.
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An ancient log with many stories and even more secrets.
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Another elder log, seemingly younger, and an open book.
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Yes, yes, tell me all your secrets, elder log.
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I stepped on a flat stone on the path, and the earth near it heaved. My brain told me it was a great place to hide something, so I wrote a note to a future friend. Soon I will return to see if they replied.
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I didn't see it at the time, but as I look at this picture of the gnarled tree that caught my attention, I see Jesus upon the cross.
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Follow the yellow brick road.
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The overlook: the lips of the mountains were parted, the wind howled through the valley, and I was sure this was the throat of the world that sung songs to God above that our ears couldn't comprehend.
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Someone before me surely felt the majesty that graced this place. They left this verse, a line from a song of David. The full song:
Hear my cry, O God; attend unto my prayer.
From the end of the earth will I cry unto thee, when my heart is overwhelmed: lead me to the rock that is higher than I.
For thou hast been a shelter for me, and a strong tower from the enemy.
I will abide in thy tabernacle for ever: I will trust in the covert of thy wings.
For thou, O God, hast heard my vows: thou hast given me the heritage of those that fear thy name.
Thou wilt prolong the king's life: and his years as many generations.
He shall abide before God for ever: O prepare mercy and truth, which may preserve him.
So will I sing praise unto thy name for ever, that I may daily perform my vows.
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The portal to and from this sacred place.
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The portal to and from this sacred place.
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Did I simply connect with nature? Did I find the ancient Mother Nature that has inspired so many? Did I attune my energies to the earth? Did I meet God on a mountaintop?
I don't know, but I hope to return and figure this out for myself.
