ROARING LION CREEK

The Sunday mid morning hike brings the two dogs (whining all the way up the mountain), my beloved (always ready to hike) and me (still remarking on our good fortune to have a 65 degree day with sunshine) to the nearly empty parking lot. We pull around to park behind a home-made camper and note the bumper stickers: Support Bush. Ours say: Peace is Patriotic.

The trail is in shadow most of the time. The roar of the creek is comforting this time of year. Our black lab charges ahead, returning periodically to check on us. The other one herds us, and if he's drawn away, he returns, takes his place behind me and gently nudges my hand with his chilly nose.

It's steep, and honestly I've never walked more than about a mile on it. By then the creek pulls me down the sidehill to sit, absorb, watch the sparkling white waters, let the cedars look after me for awhile. Rumor has it there's a lake about 3 miles up, as mountain lakes usually are, but it's smaller than it used to be. It's a personal goal to get there one of these days, just 'cause.

We see four species of mushrooms in a 30' area. My beloved kicks what looks like dog turds from the trail and they send up a cloud of brown smoke: puffballs. Their dust is a super antibiotic. Prince's Pine (Pipsessewa) and Kinnickinnick (Uva Ursi) line the trail, which I take note of, in case we need to address a urinary tract infection. And the arnica leaves are fresh and new, surprisingly; they must put down extra roots in the fall, to shoot up their stalk and lovely yellow flower in the spring. Am I walking in a pharmacy? Yes. Arnica for bruises, cedar to cleanse the auric field, huckleberry leaves for immune support (the berries are the best, but they're long gone). Not to forget the creek, manufacturing negative ions which bless our bodies richly.

We return home to plant garlic, haul out the frosted tomato vines, clean off the patio, and pick the last of the plums from the ground, checking for worm holes. Abundance seeps into me, like water into a dry creek bed. Leaves, fruit, tall unkempt grasses, a little extra money in the bank, a flock of birds adoring the feeder, a family that manages to co-create in laughter and kindness most of the time, a job I don't hate. And health. And a partner that is my best friend. How precious these days.

I'm so happy to share them with you. They're not exotic, but they are as sweet as a soft plum that just today fell from the tree. May you be so blessed. Star