Dust & Ink

My bones have been running dry & begging for sustenance, like a barren river bed absorbing a light spring rain that is craving to overflow. These bones weren't the kind of dryness that led me in pursuing distraction as was true in the past, but the kind that slowly dwindled away my creativity & livlihood.  I felt like I was standing in the scene of the movie 'Garden State' where the characters are standing in the rain, literally yelling into the giant hole in the earth as their feet resided on the  cusp of the abyss. At the same time I could hear the resounding opening canto from Dante-

"In the middle of the journey of our life

I came to my senses in a dark forest,

For I had lost the straight path.

Oh, how hard it is to tell

What a dense, wild & tangled wood this was

The thought of which renews my fear!"
(Inferno, Canto 1, 1-6)

You see, I realized I was standing on the edge of this existential abyss & may have been there for sometime.  The proof lies in the journal pages that have held more dust than ink through the past several months, my pulse that was running flat. While I am ever so encouraged by my surrounding community & friendships, my ability to love them is off, or at least it seems so. My 'in-spout' for love has seemed disconnected from it's source. So, with the understanding that my heart was in need of acute repair, I set my sights on a fresh adventure to re-attach myself to the Author of life & love.

Yesterday morning I woke with renewed vigor; the air had a freshness about it & I didn't struggle quite so hard to leave the comforts of my bed. With my mind revolving around the impending trip to my beloved Colorado back country, I scoured some maps & read reports to find which areas had road access as the high country is very much in the midst of winter.

I nearly resorted to opening my Colorado recreation atlas, closing my eyes & parachuting my right index finger down to pick my destination but, alas, that was unnecessary. My eyes caught glimpse of my destination, Guanella Pass. This is an area I have spent a good deal of time in during summer & fall months & felt confident in my ability to handle it if the weather were to become unstable. A modestly packed bag, camera, some highly treasured outdoor gear & my tent were tossed onto the passenger seat of my little truck & I hit the road.

Within an hour I exited I-70 into Georgetown where I connected with Guanella Pass. The drive was incredible as I watched a springtime rain shower slowly exchanged itself for winter snow as the ever ascending, switch-back pass took me to 11,000 feet above sea level. After briefly considering camping in one of the several closed campgrounds at the top of the pass, I found a small trail that led me on a short hike & to a flat landing with good cover & a nearby stream. Like a kid on Christmas morning I opened my tent & immediately began construction. The footprint to my tent covered a shallow bed of snow & within minutes the tent was standing before as gloriously as any of the finest cathedrals my eyes have seen. I crawled inside to precisely lay out my gear to the soft musical patter of snow falling on the rain-fly.

I assumed the challenge of starting a fire & walked through camp as if I were in a very domesticated Man vs. Wild episode. My viewers would have found this endeavor anticlimactic as it proved difficult to set a tent -side blaze in the current, moist woodland which serves as a sharp contrast to Colorado as a wildfire tinder-box just last year. Soon, I humbly retreated to the warmth of my tent leaving behind me the smouldering remains of pine needles & kindling.

In my tent I slipped on my favorite gloves to return sensation to my fingers & doubled up my wool socks to do the same for my toes. The zipper of my mummy bag was pulled up as high as possible while still allowing my hands to hold a new book within reading distance. I opened the pages of Chasing Francis, gifted to me by a close friend & caught that intoxicating smell of fresh pages & journey yet to happen. I started reading chapter one, & while reading, my mind was filled with hope for a fresh encounter with my Heavenly Father. So I lay the book down to wait, the snow still dancing on the fabric of my small shelter, but nothing came, only silence. I lay there with my eyes fixed to the roof of the tent as if to see it miraculously open with light but the opposite happened, snow slowly consumed my tent leaving it prematurely dark. Before I knew it I had shut my eyes to do one of my very favorite things, sleep.

When I woke again the soft patter of snow had slowed & I found myself quite warm as the several inches of snow had sealed the exposed area between the ground & rain-fly. At the same time the sensation of an overly distended bladder entered my thoughts & I put on my shoes to remedy this.

I stood up in my post nap euphoria in the untrodden powder outside my small tent door & was confronted by a serene, monochrome mountain-scape. Everything I saw was covered in snow, including my tent converted igloo. The scene before me was strikingly similar as when Lucy first steps through the wardrobe into the Narnian winter. I smiled at the thought of seeing Mr. Tumnus walk by.

 

After taking pictures & mesmerizing at the the crunch of snow beneath my boot I entered my tent of the last time that evening. My gaze was westward as the sun said good-bye & took it's last breath before dipping behind the shadow cast mountains. I lay back in my mummy bag & my stare returned to the roof. I clicked my headlamp off to on in several cycles being left in total darkness between a cloud-covered night sky & snow enveloped tent. I clicked my headlamp off a last time & the final residual speckles of light faded from my sight.

Repeatedly I waved my hand in front of my face without being able to see it in the slightest. Then, as a surprise to me, I laughed, thankfulness overwhelmed me in this moment, not for the things I could see but for those I could not. This darkness in my small winter home reflected a deeper truth to me.

It was a small encounter with my Father & I felt His embrace in this moment where it was just He & I. Then, with new life in my veins, I did one of my favorite things once again, I fell asleep.