Mostly sunny this morning, but a very damp 35 degrees after yesterday’s rain. The campfire is reluctant this morning, but after awhile a cheery blaze warms me as I sit with my cup of coffee and “A New Earth,” reading about the pain-body, the condition where one identifies with one’s pain so much as to lose touch with the real person.
After breakfast I walk across the meadow, irresistibly drawn to the aspens on the hillside. This time I find a game trail that ascends at a comfortable angle and I am soon at the aspen grove. I take lots of photos even though the angle of the sun is not ideal. There is quite a breeze, causing the leaves to shimmer and sparkle as they dance about. It is really quite marvelous and I thoroughly enjoy being there.
Back at camp, I have a long cello session broken by wood gathering in the deep woods behind the camp. I realize there is so much more to explore. I did not have the energy for it earlier in our stay, but I feel like I’m missing out on something important. Well, next time…. The twigs and branches that I find are really quite wet, so I reluctantly leave the magical woods
and walk across the meadow to gather twigs and branches that have had more time to dry in the sun and the wind. Back at camp I continue with playing cello until Becka calls. Someone made her angry and she calls to talk about camping because it makes her feel better. We plan a camping date for next summer, perhaps right here. Clifford needs to use my cell phone for a business call, so I give him the phone and head on back to the aspens.
The sun is now low in the west, shining through the gap between mountain peaks. It is cloudier this afternoon, so I have to wait for sunnier and still moments to get shots with the glow of the leaves as the sun shines through them. Back-lit leaves of plants and shrubs also get my attention.
Even while I wait for these photo-opp moments, I am thrilled to be here on the mountain with these lovely trees.
I can’t bear to leave until the sun has settled low enough that no more sunlight illumines the grove. Finally I say “good-bye” and head down the hill, picking up chunks of wood on my way. Back at camp, it is time for another campfire, hot tea, and journal writing. Bass Creek has been good for me. Every day I breathe in the fresh air; I am surrounded by mountains, tall ponderosa at the meadow’s parameters look down on me, dark mysterious woods invite me to explore, and golden aspen dance for me – they have all shared their strength with me. I am feeling healthier and more peaceful being here at Bass Creek. There are even moments of joy. I hope to carry this joy with me as I move forward to what lies ahead.
