The Cabin on the Creek: Alive!

 visitors animate the Cabin

the "Cabin on the Creek" just feels right:

endowed with holding the visitor

with both physical and spiritual comforts,

when visitors leave, though,

an inevitable emptiness settles on us still left,

as if the power switch is turned off,

and the machine settles back into companionable expectation,

as if now we are in a Quaker meeting for worship

and awaiting a new "quaking" from the natural world,

a group of family, a group of friends,

animates that which before was more of mechanism

than the vibrancy of something truly alive,

the best within us seeks to connect,

to make sense of it all,

to work to bring forth what feels to be right,

as beautiful and well-ordered as we can help create

when the gifts of other people awaken and bring to life

a connected whole of which we are a part,

the potential before us, around us, within us, alive,

as we wake up and the possible becomes the actual.

by Henry H. Walker

July 1 ‘26

an annual mountain adventure

 

the mountain adventure continues

today has been 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 dawns with powerful thunderstorms:

torrential rain, lightning about 2-3 miles away,

maybe way up the mountain,

rain continues and continues to beat down 

upon the world around me,

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

the rain pauses, mostly, for a few hours,

folks get to trailhead and begin 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 climb, like they are climbing,

down here at the base of the mountain

water flows with abandon onto us,

the creek rises and rises,

not enough to reset the big stones of the stream

but enough to brown the water 

and roar the fall toward the sea,

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

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

it is hard for me to realize 

that my role in the 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,

I am dispensable,

the experience of being one 

with the mountain and its moods

can continue,

even for the hiking 9 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