I'm not sure if he knew I needed it but D loaded up the Swinger and Gingy Maillet and headed to the eastern plains to hunt antelope on Friday. I was left coming home to an eerily empty house and no sign of responsibility. The sheded hair of a missing dog and the chill of a fall afternoon sat solemnly in the house, greeting me as I entered. I did not know what to do with myself.
I woke up Saturday morning envisioning a loosely falling orange leaf freshly unsuctioned from a fading green branch. I felt it unlatch; fluttering to the ground in orangey brilliance, soon to be mulch. I love Fall for the sense of reflection it innately brings. This October, I feel like a leafy free agent of sorts.
I spent Saturday on the Elk Meadow trail thinking about the year: about what I had planted and what I was currently harvesting (an activity spurred from S). Some seeds I planted early in the year took off tremendously and some have fizzled out. Just like the leaf, it felt exhilarating and scary all at the same time. I considered what signs meant and why I still look for them? I guess I need a certain amount of magic in my life. The ipod shuffled ironic songs in my ears until it ran out of juice. My attention was then drawn to the chatter of the woods - the birds, the wind, and the people on the trail. Not that I didn’t acknowledge them before but rather that having on headphones always feels like wearing a veil, like I’m not fully there. I stopped to take photos of the gorgeous, yellow, crunchiness in a patch of Aspens. It was cloudy and cold. Temperatures shifted throughout the hike: the sun felt so good and the chills felt so bone numbingly real. I welcomed it all as if none of it would last too long.
It felt good to reconnect to a me that is creative and happy. One that planted seeds with that desired growth. I’m stoked about reaping the harvest this Fall. We agreed we would work together on it; the Uni and I - a collaborative effort of sorts.
Strangely, I felt like crap Sunday morning but still set out for Boulder to meet AR and H. We went for a hike at Table Mesa where there were even more lovely fall colors: the lime greens, the maroons, and the orangey yellows. There was tall grass swaying in the breeze and Kiera bounding through the terrain like gravity was for the weak. There was pleasant conversation and supportive feelings. There was ease of time and space. It felt good. It was so opposite than the Saturday hike but so fulfilling and inspiring in a different way. There was a chill in the air and the stark flatiron of rock face. There was laughter and hope. And then there was delicious Indian food and Chai tea and both Mango and Rice pudding at the end of it all. I was in such a relaxed daze, I barely wanted to drive myself back to Denver.
I came home to a silent house once again and the prospect of writing. It felt liberating to be free from the thought parade - just silent, just present. I was back to my old Sunday night antics. Not fully knowing what was achieved this weekend but feeling like something major was rebalanced. Trusting the Uni and trusting my life, my choices, and my intuition. Lovely.
