GATHERING...

High mountain wilderness

Like nature herself, creativity is something continually reborn. In nature it seems there is much gathering of precious moments to cherish. Often, creativity is the same.

I'd like to share a time when, high in the mountains, I went a-gathering.

The lavish onslaught begins in the early dawn inside a sleeping bag covered with icy rime.A chorus of unfamiliar birdsong echoes around to waken me in the chill morning air. I want to remember the sounds. I listen hard, gathering.

On through the day I am the willing receptacle of sight and sound, taste, texture, and smell: hot coffee as I bring it to my lips fills my nostrils with familiar aroma; the crunch of pumpkin seeds and tart dried cranberries in  my mouth on the trail; the rhythm of footsteps marches along to the clang of metal on my pack; the distinctive sweet, pungent smell of sage...These and so many more sense-filling moments are gathered here in the heights.

At the end of the day, with the the dwindling fire's smoke in my hair, I am again tucked into the same sleeping bag for the night. The wind plays a song through the trees, a bat swoops, the final call of a raven is accompanied by the rush and shore lap of the nearby river. I look one last time up at the night sky where myriad stars cast their light on the darkness. I close my eyes, then pop them open one last time to record all this magnificence. Gathering, even as I drift off.

Months, even these years later, I can still pull up these glorious mountain memories. They remind me again and again of the value of simply being--of listening and seeing and hearing and tasting and touching without doing another thing. The gathering nourishes long after the moments themselves.