As I began my hike, I tried to still my mind (letting go of my thoughts; which bird is that? oh the black throated blue, focus on my breathing - in 2,3,4 out 2,3,4,5,6, boy it is muddy out here! random songs that played on repeat, etc.) without much success. But I was able to immerse myself into the endless babble of the brooks crossing my path, a constant, peaceful companion, until I reached the height where the brooks were no longer with me.

On my way down I imagined the impact of each small step, filtering down through the layers of the earth, the soil and the bedrock; my gratitude and love radiating like the roots of the trees and the depth of the fungi intermingling and healing deeper and deeper spreading far and wide as I walked.

I was touched again by how communing with nature brings me such gratefulness, each sapling that is there to hold on to, down the steep rocky slope, and the solid flat rocks helping me wend my way through the water and mud, the wildflowers along the way making me smile. My heart rejoiced even as the rain joined us as we neared the bottom.