On late summer afternoons, we have the supreme luxury of popping up into the park as the visiting hordes are departing to return home and choosing a short hike into pristine wilderness to cap off the day. Snow Lake is an easy destination of a little over a mile and one of the first trails to melt out early in the season though a few white patches remained on the trail from the heavy snowpack this year. The beargrass was in full bloom along the way with their big white surreal blooms resembling full breasts, exotic eye candy backlit by the sun low in the sky, scenting the warm air with a heady perfume. Yellow cedar added a pungent aroma after baking in the hot sun all day, a sharp tang so reminiscent of hikes of yesteryear. In their mad rush to bloom, wildflowers were breaking free of the snow and begging for the sun, faces upturned. At the lakes’ outlet, we crossed logs to a small peninsula jutting into the water where I shed my shoes and plunged bare white feet into cold crystalline waters to soak and dawdle, popping fresh cherries into my maw. Atop the impossibly clear snowmelt waters, shimmering ripples of light undulated as a warm wind skittered across the surface. A mayfly wobbles and bounces in the air above the water as if dancing to its own tune. Birdsong and the hum of busy insects in the lush undergrowth still tender with fresh green shoots and beneath all this a ringing silence. We while away the late afternoon mesmerized by the rhythms of eternity, deep in the wild places, downshifting into timelessness.
Posted on: Sat, 12 Jul 2014 13:58:44 +0000
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