Yesterday was such a magnificent day on the road; an adventure from the time we opened our eyes, an odyssey that left us exhausted but happy and not able to even partially express ourselves once the big wheels stopped rolling and the snowscapes of the Wyoming quit flashing by, no matter how badly we wanted to talk about and explain all of it.
I think about it today and realize that the moonlight on the snowy fields of South Dakota was incredibly spiritual; miles and miles and miles and miles of moonlight glittering on snowy plains, with no sound save the pounding of The Penske’s tires on the pavement. It was an experience that cannot be movied; can only be written about to a certain extent; that certainly can’t be duplicated in Orlando or on Wii. No substitutes available for traveling in the frozen night air in the land of the Lakota, toward your destination where they wait for you and will bring you in out of the dark night with warm arms. And Mount Rushmore is a religious experience for any American. More so for me, I think, because I like pine trees. Talk about climbing to the high altar of American statesmanship!
I think about it today and realize that the moonlight on the snowy fields of South Dakota was incredibly spiritual; miles and miles and miles and miles of moonlight glittering on snowy plains, with no sound save the pounding of The Penske’s tires on the pavement. It was an experience that cannot be movied; can only be written about to a certain extent; that certainly can’t be duplicated in Orlando or on Wii. No substitutes available for traveling in the frozen night air in the land of the Lakota, toward your destination where they wait for you and will bring you in out of the dark night with warm arms. And Mount Rushmore is a religious experience for any American. More so for me, I think, because I like pine trees. Talk about climbing to the high altar of American statesmanship!
Traveling in winter obviously is not a preferred vacation/tourist experience. But yet, there is joy, there is truth, in all aspects of life so you have to be open, remain open to the possibility of the day and not flinch when opportunity may slip a cold and uncomfortable mantle about your shoulders. The strata of 360 degrees of silver, gray and white has been magnificent to behold; the eagles and the owls soar and criss cross overhead through it all and search the fields for morsels of sustenance that may have somehow been overlooked. Today I am caught and captured by the trees of Minnesota; they have no leaves and I can watch how they grow and live, their bony skeletons standing upright in proud, stubborn stances in the frigid, still air. How I love trees. So the winter is an opportunity for contemplation, observation, and reflection that you just don’t get nor want in the summer because, well, the livin’ is too easy.
So despite what it looks like from there, Call it all Joy. Today the wisdom of the snow, the bare branches, the white sky and the icy path calls to me, embraces me with glad hands and reveals delights that I have always wondered about, but only just glimpsed. Today is another time where I sit deeply in my blessings, in the company of eternity.
JBelle
On Assignment
Worthington, Minnesota
1 comment:
Beautiful post. I have those same thoughts about winter. There is something about the stark colors, the quiet, the bare. I loved your line about summer... the living is too easy. I hope you have on warm socks. I hear the temperatures are below cold!
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