RW, the dogs and I headed up the mountain late this afternoon, despite the rain, despite the gloom.
We had planned to take a trip this weekend, but had to delay. With a pair of hot drinks for the drive, we made our way up to Gibson Jack trail head and walked off into the rain, deeper into the mountains, with just each other and our pack of canines.
[…he never closes his eyes…]
Idaho is so beautiful right now. In the high country, the aspens are tightly furled and there’s a whisper of fresh chartreuse in exponential augmentation in every direction. I feel so good when I’m out in it. Early in the day, I took ten fast miles on the mountain. I ran like a wild thing through the rain and mud. With Farley by my side, I paced quietly up the mountain, pausing to smell the wet of the junipers, pausing to listen to my creek. He and I dipped down into an aspen and maple grove and I slammed on the brakes. The hair rose up on the back of my neck. I could sense a large animal in the area (I can’t explain it, but some primal thing in me reared up and felt it…). There was no birdsong, only quiet falling all around and pooling at my feet. There are cougars up there, tucked away under the tree line…I know it, for they come down to my street sometimes, all tawny flanks and tall whiskers, I’ve seen them…
Farley too, stood alert, hackles up, unmoving. A sudden crashing of underbrush startled us both and a huge dark form rose up out of the trees. Moose. A cow and her calf. I rounded the bend in the glade and we all stood, but twenty feet apart, watching each other with mutual curiosity. I sat down in the wet underbrush and simply took my sabbath there, on the side of the mountain, soul rest.
Thank God for those moose.
They came to me when I needed them most.
White hocks.
Smooth lumbering gait.
Telescopic ears.
Gibson Jack trail is unfurling.
The world is waking.
My winter bones are thawing.
Summer is coming.
I used to be a prairie momma. Now, I think, I’m half prairie momma, half mountain momma.
Does it suit me?
I think so.
Happy Mother’s Day to all, I hope, if you have young (and old) to tend, that you felt so appreciated and loved today. In every way. Lord knows, I love you. I appreciate you. Don’t ever stop being so wonderful.
Love,
The Mountain Momma
