the mountain, and its moods

 

the adventure continues

today has been of the primal:

in the night life demanded I realize my fears of loss

and my inabilities to fix things,

to take care of others,

though when morning came,

I was still of giving and love,

I helped send off 14 family and friends

to hike up Mt. LeConte, Walisiyi to the Cherokee,

the day dawned with powerful thunderstorms:

lightning, usually 2-3 miles away, 

maybe way up the mountain,

rain beat down upon the world around me,

as the group finished breakfast and packing for the hike up,

the rain paused, mostly, for a few hours,

folks got to trailhead and began

the great effort of hiking hard up the mountain,

often rewarded by beauty of stream and forest, and rising ridge,

as the morning ran out of its time,

more thunderstorms settled on the mountain,

and on the hikers,

and my fears for them climbed

like they were climbing,

down here at the basement of the mountain

water flowed with abandon onto us,

the creek rose and rose, not enough to reset the stones of the stream,

but enough to brown the water

and roar the fall toward the sea,

I hope the storm has cleanses the upper reaches of the mountain

and allowed a sunset tonight to be there for the taking,

it didn't happen,

it's hard for me to realize

that my role in this whole endeavor

is so much less than it was,

how wondrous, though, that I still have a role,

that the next generation picks up the baton,

that I am dispensable,

that the experience of being one 

with the mountain and its moods can continue,

even for the hiking nine year-old,

for the middle school-aged hikers,

for the recent high school graduates,

for our niece, for our sons,

for friends joining the adventure,

there are a lot of circles that we hope will carry forward,

even without us,

and not be unbroken.

by Henry H. Walker

June 28, ‘26