an overview of LeConte, up and down

 

the hike itself

our bodies and will work together

for over three hours of hard hiking

up the fourth highest mountain east of the Rockies,

the angle up, daunting,

hundreds of steps chiseled into the rock

and built with wood as if stairways,

the lower slopes strewn with golden leaves,

a goodly number of trees aflame with color along the trail,

higher up the mountain we look back and down,

and clouds fill the first third of the elevation gain,

other clouds are high enough to allow and frame vistas

that pull the eye and the soul

back into the wonder any walk in beauty should feel,

sunset is gorgeous but lacks color

as a front settles in on us,

through the night light snow falls for hours,

building up on the trees 

and on the roofs and steps of buildings around us,

yet the way back down the mountain was safe,

with no ice below our feet but for slushy snow,

fall not yet ready to give in to winter,

still winter visits in the morning

to foreshadow the coming truth,

mountain ash has readied itself, dropping its leaves,

and clustering its hope into what new years will bring,

the ash prominently display bright red berries

who stand out beautifully in the white snow,

which marries itself to the evergreens 

that continue to grow and thrive, even in the cold

when the sun’s energy is so rationed

that growth almost hibernates,

we hike down the mountain with care to our footing,

and with joy in each revelation of transformation,

the snow like magical frames

within which each view we have known before

finds itself transformed, and we feel both stranger, 

and welcomed, into this new land,

our steps down the mountain are every moment a cusp of choice,

our eyes and brains choose between multiple possibilities every step,

when memories grab my attention, I can miss what’s before, 

and misstep,

what a hard lesson walking down a mountain can teach us,

that we need to live in the moment,

while at the same time realizing

how choices now can impact how next we live,

we must do the best we can to find a good path forward

and avoid the stasis of fear as we realize

that the consequence of choice might be wrong,

we make it down the mountain,

we are tired, and fulfilled,

near the end my wife spots an unusual salamander,

we stop, marvel, photograph,

a lesson to us to allow spontaneous revelation to occur 

while we still take cautious steps in our journeys.

by Henry H. Walker

November 4, ‘21