I woke at dawn with the rising sun coming up and the bluish hue of light cresting the peaks around me. The gentle whispering of a nearby stream silently brushed my senses awake and I unzipped the tent flap, shaking off droplets of dew onto the ground that spread as if tears of joy had fallen from my eyes. That first cold breath plumed into the chilled sky and I walked through the mist with light steps that still loudly crunched the gravel underfoot. After the heavy and familiar weight of a fishing bag settled onto my shoulders, footsteps began to recede from the sleeping ears of the inhabitants still at camp. The sounds of my own traveling announced by rocks.
Once lake side I watched as an older man who woke up much earlier than I had casted a long way into the lake. The line was a golden thread unspooling in the now warm hue of the world. My eyes trailed the path like my future depended on it and watched the silver sheen of the lure waggle its way through the water.
What a small beauty in this wide world.
The glare from the lake as the sun rose higher and higher into the sky blinded me viciously and suddenly I woke up from my deep slumber in a bed at home. My ply wood and insulation home.
Come to find out, I had been dreaming of my blissful venture into open air and while I rested, my mind sought after the solace of the mountains.
It is comforting to know that whether awake or asleep, nature will always be available to grace my eyes and heal my mind. Nature will always be an option to me.
It’s forever a part of me.