Beltane Running Creeks Moon
“The clearest way into the Universe is through a forest wilderness. ”
– John of the Mountains: The Unpublished Journals of John Muir, (1938), page 313.
Though nothing in our immediate vicinity would count as wilderness, Mt. Evans, the fourteener that lies directly west of us and is our weathermaker, has a designated wilderness area all around it. I can access the Mt. Evans’ Wilderness Area on the Cub Creek Trail, about two miles from home.
The mountains are our everyday, rising, rising, rising yet still. Steady. Tall. We have our life on and among them, enjoying the air cooled by Shadow Mountain, a mile and a half above sea level. The lodgepole pines, interspersed with the occasional aspen grove, are the mountains’ hair, growing longer and longer. Sometimes the odd bald spot appears, usually with craggy rock visible.
Black and red fox, mule deer and elk, black bears and mountain lions, squirrels and chipmunks are our neighbors. We’re just two legged mammals in our dens up here. With the millions of years of age the mountains represent, in very physical form, our few thousand years as a species is unnoticeable. When we’ve run our course and the homes here on Shadow Mountain are fit only for archaeology, Shadow Mountain will still exist. It will not wonder where we’ve gone, nor feel a pang of loss.
I like the feeling of our impermanence set in contrast to the mountains. They too will erode away, yes, their immovability moved by water following the demands of gravity, but it will take so long. Cannot be imagined, how long it will take. Our visit to the heights will be long over when Shadow Mountain is of Appalachian size. And even on that day the sky will be blue, clouds will form and rain will fall.
