sunday grace: forest story

the forests of the blue ridge mountains are beyond beautiful in any season.

but there is something about that first crisp autumn weekend, when the leaves are just barely beginning to turn and still mostly clinging on to the tree, that lures us into the woods in search of the magic and healing that only nature can give.

the green is greener here.

a few steps off the path the forest's understory is soft and deep.

that light, delivered in radiant beams or feathery dapples, is otherwordly.

shedding our real world armor and reflecting the space, we are kind, quiet, open, lush.

we are small.

and marvel at the smaller.

we are happy and content in the forest's inherent balance of risk and play, folly and groundedness.

or to just be still and stare in wonder and delight without rush or pressure.

absolved and restored.

with permission to be easy and vibrant and tender in a hard grey world.

gratitude.  offering.  commitment, to each other and our magnificent world.

"the clearest way into the universe is through the forest wilderness."

{john muir}

gratitude: week four

on the day after thanksgiving, instead of indulging in black friday, we went to yogaville.

the last time we visited, i was in the midst of making the decision whether or not to leave my job and radically change my life.  yogaville provided the space and stillness to give me some clarity on the issue.

i am so very grateful for this open, loving, spiritual place that is quite unexpected in rural virginia.  being here instantly brings the familiar sense of groundedness that i've been blessed enough to experience in other beautiful places.

i am grateful for the sacred spaces i have known.

(photos taken friday at yogaville.)

i am grateful for the pacific ocean.  her name masks her fierceness and power.  i like that.

i am grateful for the tidepools she leaves behind.  she taught me that you can be bold and raw and honest and still create beauty and gentleness.  i am grateful for all those times i held the hand of my daddy while he told me the stories of the magical little sea worlds that exist in each and every tiny pool.

i am grateful for a home that is safe and warm and happy and peaceful.   living here makes me want to be more creative, more joyful, more loving.

i am grateful for my childhood home that i miss often and dream about with a sense of nostalgia and history and love and belonging.

i am grateful for forests and woods and mountains.  and for trails that help me be brave.

i am grateful for the 24"x72" yoga mat that i can roll out anywhere and transform my body, my mind, my spirit, my day, my life.

i am grateful for the places i have not yet been and who whisper to me that there is something for me to learn there.

my most favorite completely accidental self-portrait ever:  protection, wisdom, guidance, beginnings (all these ganesh gifts)...are within.

i am grateful for the practice of choosing which space to inhabit (i.e. yogaville over target) on any given day.  i am grateful for having those options.

i am grateful for learning (still learning, still practicing) that any space (even target) can be peaceful and transformed by awareness and appreciation of its unique beauty and stories.

above the clouds

see those blue mountains in the distance?  those are the peaks of otter.  we're going to climb the one on the right.  sharp top mountain.

when you stop to take photographs or just to be present in the magnificence of this space (or it you need to rest and your camera gives you the perfect excuse so you don't look like a total wuss), the hike to the summit takes a little over two hours. 

in the space of two hours, we walked from the last weekend of summer into autumn.

have you noticed that trails always start out looking like this?  flat, wide, totally doable?  they get you into the wilderness and then they bring out the steep rocky inclines.

for a girl like me, who doesn't really like athletics, hiking is the perfect activity.  you can't really quit.  you can turn around and go back but that still requires some effort.  i find that once i've committed to some distance, i almost always choose to get the reward (the summit.)

hello tiny delicate flowers.

and weird gigantic orange mushrooms.

my tiny buddha.

my other tiny buddha.

a heart-shaped stone.  always a good sign you are on the right path.

they are almost always ahead of me a bit.  this one always (always!) keeps an eye on me to make sure i'm coming along.

halfway there.

and we have arrived at autumn.

imagine what all of those gorgeous trees will look like a few weeks from now when virginia explodes with fall color!  shall we return?

absolutely!

where i belong

this place, where seekers of adventure and discovery and space come together.

where the forest floor is carpeted with ferns.

where balance is achieved without effort.

and effort is rewarded with this:

where a daring dog becomes legend ("in all my hiking days, i've never seen a corgi on the trails."  said one sweet hiker.)

where we are back to basics.

this place, where there are wild blackberries, cool breezes, butterfly ballet, golden yarrow, nice folks, blue mountains, blue skies, a blue heron (!) and the footprints of thousands made one at a time.

this is where i belong.

i have it bad

wanderlust for the great outdoors.  a love of the wild open.

from my into the wild pinterest board.

the trails project

we are lucky enough to live thirty minutes from the magnificent blue ridge mountains.  in the eleven years we've been here, we've driven its roads, but rarely ventured into the wilderness from the car and/or lookouts.

that all changed this summer.  after i quit my job, i craved wide open space.  i needed to increase my physical activity and spend more time away from the interwebs.  i needed challenge and fresh air.  i was inspired by the story in wild.  we made up our minds to do one hike each weekend. 

sunday was hike two: fallingwater cascades near the peaks of otter.  on the map it looked like the second-easiest loop (last weekend, we did the johnson's farm loop which included a pleasant surprise at the summit:  an actual 19th century virginia farm, complete with current garden.). 

thirty-four hundred feet sounds easy enough, right?  well, fallingwater was 3400 feet straight down into a gorge then straight back up. 

even though simon, a corgi, has super short legs, he is the best hiker. 

i got my bright purple shoes because they were the most comfortable.  they flawlessly carried me through a three hour hike with absolutely no blisters.  they helped tremendously with wet-boulder-hopping (more on that later).  they are actually trail running shoes, lighter than hiking shoes.  plus if i get lost, rangers will have no problem spotting me.

not the most glamorous picnic:  water, granola bars, nuts and bug spray.  maybe next weekend i'll put some effort into it.  total plug for burt's bees insect repellent:  it works! 

corgi butt.

halfway down, you reach the waterfall, which traverses the trail at the bottom of the loop.  because it's late summer, the falls are a wee bit trickly.  i can't wait to come back in spring to see them in all their glory.  also the trail is lined with a thousand ancient rhododendron bushes.  i am imagining how gorgeous they are in bloom.  although they may make my purple shoes more difficult to spot in an air rescue. 

the great part about the summer falls is that you can go off trail and onto the rocks and water in parts.

my trail buddies.

so at the bottom of the hike, the lower bridge that crosses the falls and loops you back up to the trailhead was washed out.  we were getting ready to backtrack when two hikers came bounding across the falls from the broken bridge.  they told us that once you made it across the falls (fall being the resonating word), the trail was in good shape back to the trailhead. 

for some crazy reason, i decided that i wanted to try to cross the rocks and falls under the washed-out bridge instead of coming back the way we came. lately, i have been choosing risk when given the option.   and quite frankly, coming back the way i came is getting old.  this was a big deal for me.  i'm not very outdoorsy or athletic and there was some rock hopping involved.  i watched ken and simon make their way and i followed in their steps with a weird brand of tentative courage.   i was really proud of myself when my purple shoes set down safely on the trail on the other side of the falls.

after two hikes i find myself wanting more.  i love the challenge and the nature and the isolation.  i love the sound the trail makes under my feet and the big silence of the sky.  ken's been crazy-talking about the appalachian trail for years.  all of sudden, it's not sounding so crazy.