Suddenly it is mid-March, and winter is all but flown past. I have been skiing more, for which I am thankful (and enjoying immensely), but skiing has always been more about speed and entertainment than balancing the inner spaces of self.
I find I am missing the Gorge and the stormy, wild character it exudes in the deep of the winter months. I love what I do but, ever since I started, work has been about long hours that are (as I suspected they would) beginning to kick the emotional stuffing out of me. Since childhood, hours lost in the woods have been about self-care, about quiet, repose and reworking the jigsaw puzzle pieces I become when I'm too stressed. Time for a hike.
The weather forecast was a gamble, which we lost. It was a soggy five miles spent hunting imaginary leprechauns in the vibrant green of the Gorge, lost among the mosses and ferns along the trail.
But beautiful. It never ceases to amaze me how a landscape so close to civilization can feel so untamed. Our breath was visible in the air, the scent of the rain clean and poised between deep winter and spring. The cusp seasons have begun.
|beautiful Herman Creek|
|Pacific Crest falls|
Columbia River Gorge National Scenic Area, Oregon
~5 miles, ~1000 feet elevation gain