Wednesdays are for taking a moment during the week and counting blessings, telling funny stories, and anticipating the approaching weekend. I'd love for you to share your Wednesday moment in the comments or attach a link to your blog.
I apologize for not having any pictures for this week's Moment. I don't use a smart phone, and my camera would have been too much weight for this hike.
On the Solstice, I wanted to see the sun set. We live in the cradle of mountains, so I did a hike I've done before that takes me to the tippy-top of one of the many peaks in our neighborhood.
It's all uphill, and the late wet snow storm we had this year wreaked havoc on the many of the damaged pines, so I often had to climb over or under fallen trees.
Unlike most hikes, I had a time limit. I wanted to get to the top before the sun touched the far ridge so that I could enjoy it and catch my breath before heading back to beat the dark.
I hauled ass. I was red, hot, sweating, gasping for air, my knees were screaming, the dog was like wtf?, but we made it in time. :)
The top of this ridge is a drastic change from the pine forest. It abruptly becomes twisted scrub and blooming cactus interspersed between rocky dragon spines.
I have gotten lost twice trying to find my way back to the trail from this peak, so this time I left myself visual markers.
When I got to the top, I took off my socks and shoes to help myself cool down. The sun was brilliant and bleeding red around the edges. There were nighthawks. Have you heard them? One of the most amazing bird experiences I've encountered, and being so high I had a great show to enjoy.
There was a brief and odd rain sputter. There weren't any real clouds overhead, just a few smears of cloud, so I'm baffled as to where the drops originated. I think it was a warning.
I made the decision to start back before the sun touched the ridge. A gut feeling, we'll call it. I was fatigued and shaky, so I was concerned about the core strength I would need to go back down and over all the obstacles. The trail is slick with pine cones, needles, and loose stones. After I started back, I saw that a storm cloud had blown in right over the ridge where I had been sitting.
It was beautifully lit by the setting sun in purples and pinks, but I was glad to no longer be up among the clouds.
I came home and cooled off briefly in the creek. The kids and I then went out to watch the Strawberry Moon rise for the Solstice. It's hard to believe that it won't occur again until 2094!