Right, Left of "Kind of left" ...

It was a beautiful day ... the kind of day you'd find in a Bradbury book.  The air was crisp and blue and the sun was warm on my face when I stepped out the door that morning, so I dashed back inside and changed into my grubby hiking clothes and shoes.

I love hiking. I love to see where my feet will take me and what wonders my eyes will see as I venture onto a new trail.  Granted, I know Arabia like the back of my hand. My son and I have spent hours there hiking and enjoying our time together being outside, which, in my opinion is where we're SUPPOSE to be the majority of the day ... not inside sitting on a couch being mindlessly entertained by television or playing internet games.  The world is an amazing place ... it's meant to be explored.

So, with my Dandelion Wine book (by Bradbury, of course) in hand, a bottle of water and a camera, I set off to climb up to the summit.  It's close to a one mile hike from the parking lot to the base of the mountain and my feet felt so light when I arrived there, I decided to run up the mountain instead of stroll.  It was so much easier than I thought it would be ... maybe I AM as young as I feel!  Once on top, I could nearly see the endless sea of forever!  Not a single other soul was around, except for an eagle who kept doing flybys looking for prey.

Not an eagle ... but I did soar!

I found a comfortable spot on a rock and sat down, leaned back and pulled my Dandelion Wine book out, flipped over to about the middle and began reading about his best friend growing up, John Huff.  Over the last few months, I've become a deep reader of all things Bradbury.  I can relate to him through his style and presence of writing, so it was only natural that I enjoy reading him on a day such as that.  It was about forty minutes later when I was startled back to reality by a covey of birds shooting up out of the brush next to me and decided it was time to do more hiking.

Arabia Mountain and I are old friends ... I've been hiking it for twenty something years, so when the thought of choosing which path to take came to me, I decided to come up with a more creative way of hiking.  I texted a friend of mine ... "left or right".

"What?" came the reply.

"I'm hiking. There are two trails ... left, or right?"

"Right."

Somehow I knew that was going to be the answer, so I headed down the right side of the mountain from the direction I was facing ... or, the back of the mountain.  Down through shrubs and puddles of water where salamanders scurried my feet carried me.  Frogs leaped in all directions, leaving perfect circles in the water, and dragon flies zoomed around me in all directions. I came to another fork in the path ....

"Left or right?" I texted.

"Right", came the reply.

Each time, I'd text back what I was seeing, feeling and smelling.  It became almost like hiking with a blind friend ... allowing them to borrow my eyes so that I could describe in detail exactly what I was seeing.  If I didn't give enough information, a quick note came back that would simply say, "And ....."  and I would continue describing in greater detail what was around me.

For a creative soul like me, I came to the sudden realization that had found a muse.

So this time I turned down a steep slope into the pine glade.  Tall Georgia pines stood like thrown lawn darts, their tops closely woven together, in front of me.  And then I stopped dead in my tracks ... it was the scent of something heavenly.  It was light, like jasmine, but slightly musky the way old gardenias smell right before it's time to throw them away.

"The scent here is incredible!" I texted.

"Find out where it's coming from," came the reply.

So I began to look, following my nose.  On the ground, in the air, I used my eyes to carefully scope out my surroundings to find what it was that was creating such a magnificent scent.  My nose carried me through the pines and to the base of what appeared to be a pin oak.  High in the tree were tiny white flowers on a vine ... perhaps that was where the scent was coming from.  I'd never know.

"I can't find it. I think it's in the trees!"

"Don't kill yourself," came the reply.

Good advice .... I left it for another day and continued down the path, now growing narrow as I ventured deeper into the trees.  Another junction ... two paths to the left ... one turning precisely left, the other turning KIND of turning left.

I inquired.

"Kind of left," came the reply.

This led me into woods so dark and deep that for a moment I felt I was drowning in a sea of bark and pine needles.  The air was prickly feeling and all around me was the looming feeling of the tall trees over me. It was slightly unsettling, so for the second time that day I broke out into a slow run.  The feeling was exhilarating as the tips of the pine boughs tickled my face with their needles as I dashed past ... like a thousand fingers reaching to touch me as I passed by.  The goose bumps rose on my arms and the back of my neck .... perhaps Bradbury was playing with my head.  I continued to run.

I ran all the way to the parking lot, not out of fear, but because it felt so great to feel my lungs swell with fresh air and feel my heart pounding in my chest!  It may have been one of the best days of my life!

It hit me as I sat in the car that my solo hike had become very special in a way ... not only did I hike with Ray Bradbury, but also with a friend who was sitting miles and miles away in an office, helping me choose which way to go.

My Cup is Full ...

Life is sweet like that.