Millions
Millions of fallen leaves were under the foot until it
stepped down to be submerged by them, both moist and dry. But not so dry
were they that they would break to flakes. The challenge was to take them
at a slope with the extra stretch and stride for a leap over the log.
The log was also a submergee. You are looking for a
solid something to anchor your foot but it most helplessly falls prey to the
rot beyond the bark. It's deceptive. You then pull out the captive
foot and search for a more secure footing.
This climb is not possible without the young and older
living trees that serve to offer themselves as we grasped them. Speak of
anchor, well, that's exactly what they are.
The water cascading over rocks is the creek that makes the
sound pleasant enough for our meditation, japa or chanting to the finger-roll
on our beads. Only a few minutes is sufficient for relishing a moment
before it was time to trail on. The rocks we sat on were just too nippy
on the butt.
There were four butts, excuse me, bhaktas, devotees who
decided on this brief trek of adventure, which lead us to wonder and wander
this wilderness. We had spent a full day on couchy-material over
meaningful meetings. Our stroll through the woods, reminding us of mutual
guardianship, was of equal significance because you couldn't help but think of
the master craftsman behind it all.
May the Source be with you!
5 km
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