Oh, wow. The temperature this morning was already near fifty degrees – time to start shedding layers (or at least wearing thinner ones)!
The trail was a sloppy, muddy mess; I should have waited at least one more day before wearing my motorcycle boots instead of my winter boots. As it was, going to have to wash my jeans again today – apparently I scrape my own ankles with the side of my foot as I walk.
Bobbie caught up to me about seven minutes before sunrise, which was as wonderful as seeing the second sunny dawn in a row! And today, the water was still enough to reflect the sun as it transitioned from red to orange, climbing ever higher into the sky.
I love reflections. They can take a photo that’s merely good and make it stunning. Light above and light below – one of the items on my photographer’s bucket list is to capture the Aurora (Borealis or Australis, both if I can manage it!) reflected in still water. Radiant color above, color below.
On the way back down, Bobbie remarked that this daily trek could be likened to a spiritual journey. That as you travel along the path to enlightenment, you begin in the dark, with uncertain ground underfoot. You have obstacles like mud or ice or rocks. You’re often walking it alone, with only brief encounters that might or might not encourage you on your way. The hill is long and arduous, and just when you think you might be getting somewhere, there’s a brief pause for breath on level ground, and then it’s up the stairs… only to find another steep hill in front of you, with a sometimes-treacherous surface underfoot.
On the route, you face choices, each of which has consequences (walk the long path and maybe miss the sunrise; walk the short path and maybe injure yourself if you fall), and even if you reach the goal (the eastern overlook), that point of enlightenment might be obscured, impossible to detect except through knowing that it’s there.
I love her instinctive, unthinking brilliance.