Tuesday, August 24, 2010

I miss...

the dark stumble to my tent flap and that first breath of air and light
clear moutain spring water
entertaining ourselves while we wait for the scouts to come
laughter at campfire
singing songs while serving fajitas every Tuesday
the sudden scamper of a weasel across my path
mingling with the staff at night
spending the entire day outdoors
walking the nature trail
singing hymns at night on the kitchen porch
kayaking and swimming in the frigid lake
climbing the rafters of the nature lodge
reading on my bridge
being called mom by the nature and scout skills staffs and all of their crazy antics
the smell and feel of Douglas Firs
walking at night without a flashlight because my feet know the trails
hanging out at waterfront
the rustling wind through Quaking Aspens
waking up to a black powder rifle and trumpet
random dance parties and singing along to guitars in the kitchen
spending time with troops
the strain of muscles while fixing a road or carrying a canoe
shooting a gun or firing an arrow
flicking out a knife
getting bracelets from all of my kids
identifying yarrow, silvery lupine, lodgepole pine, indian paintbrush...
a numb mouth after eating a yarrow root
the sharp contrast of red pine needles and dark soil after rain
walking past the abandoned trading post
tying knots with a bit of rope
being surrounded by mountains and trees
the gurgle of a passing stream
being alone with complete quiet
the expansive beauty of a sky filled with clouds, stars, or a setting sun



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