Moving Musing #1: A Rainy Trail

In an effort to begin a somewhat weekly set of musings, I have written this shortly after an experience last night. I want to present musings that will help move us, either environmentally, which most of them will be, but also physically, spiritually, and mentally. These musings will come from various life experiences, stories, and accomplishments. It’s just been an idea of mine since viewing one of my favorite blogs, so I figured we could give it a try here, too. They will be somewhat poetic and meant to be read aloud, but they will also be in somewhat of an essay format. I just hope they move you like they’ve moved me. So here goes. . . We call this one A Rainy Trail. 

Drip. Drop. Trickle. I release a slow and deep breath as my feet, in my most minimal shoes, pound against the soft and moist earthen trail. Dodging roots and rocks, I make my way up a hill, slowly at first, and then more steadily, as the lactic acid begins to pump through my veins. I have just started my trail run, and it is a beautiful day, for today it is raining in the late afternoon, and I, being alone, travel lightly and minimally through the forest. Keeping my own pace, I round the crest of the first hill, and to my amazement begin to fill with more than the oxygen that my legs most dearly desired. The stunning scene of trees that surrounds me is almost breathtaking, and I surely needed more oxygen and not less. For the first time in two months, I saw more green than at spring time. This was the first drink for these trees in quite some time, and they had thirsted much. Now full and contented, they shone with a hew of green indescribable. The next 3 miles were full of green and more green, as if the Earth had never been touched. This gave me hope for the world. I did not understand how someone could move through such a scene and not be moved. As I sloped down the cut back on the second hill, I crossed near the lakeside. A steamy, solemn view, it opened my eyes even more. The rain seemed to come down so slowly, yet so powerfully, that I could watch every rain drop hit the still glass pane of the lake, creating ripples until they were broken again by another rain drop. The foggy dew of the lake spilled over into the forest and set a somber tone. Mother Earth was thirsty and dirty, and now she had gotten her shower on this rainy trail, a most beautiful site to behind. I hope to see more rainy trails soon, for you and I both. For nature’s best photograph is a rainy forest. Good luck travelers, and I hope you are moved. 


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