Sunday, July 10, 2011

mountain adventure

I arrived home with West Virginia mountain soil ground into my skin, everything smelling slightly musky and very smokey from rain and campfire and feeling more alive than I've felt in a long time. Hot, sore, soaked, dirty, smelly and utterly alive.

Honey and I have this little thing. When we're in sync about something, any little thing, we have kind of a slide-five, confirmation of everything right between us. We did that a lot more this trip than we have for a long time.

I had dreams, amazing dreams of people far away but near to my heart, as I slept with my head in a Civil War trench on a hilltop, in a damp tent, surrounded by RV city. One friend currently working, far from his family and friends, in Argentina. Others in a far off land...I think it's called Wisconsin. ;)

This is who I am. I am of the land, mountains, rivers, sea and sky and night fires. This is where I am happiest, most content, completely myself.

And I haven't been camping in over 20 years. Now, I know why I feel such discontent. It's not the suburbs. It's not my family circumstances, or other minute aggravations of the day in day out or the lack of writing time to myself.

It's that I haven't fed my soul the way it loves to be fed most in such a long long time. A lifetime. A roasted marshmallow soul under the moon and stars soul. A sun on my skin, rain on my hat, kid in a backpack on my back soul. A dog leash carabiner'ed to the backpack soul.

This is the seven year old Cathy, who when my family couldn't call me in from dinner so easily, my mother sent my brothers out to look up the nearest tree for me.

But I seem to be starting at the end here, rather than the beginning. and this is probably going to be a very long blog with lots of pictures. So maybe I will leave the end here, at the beginning, and give you the beginning to the end tomorrow, and maybe the day after, and again, after that.

I am happy, my family is safe. I love my spouse, and my daughter camped for the first time. Her favorite part was 'camping'. Parental translation: sleeping in the tent with Mommy and Daddy and Lucy.

"Can you see the real me, doctor, doctor?"

Honey and Toots at the confluence of the Shenandoah and Potomac Rivers

I obviously need to do this more. The boys are coming next month.  Life is good, go for hike. Roast a marshmallow over an open fire, under the moon.

2 comments:

  1. nothing better than a return-to-self foray into nature... and coming back in one piece! looks like a great trip!

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  2. very true, aimee. it was wonderful. more pics to come. you would have loved the funky town center cut into the mountainside. appalachian trail hippies and civil war buffs and funky shops with christmas lights.

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