This week – the very last week in January – deep into the northern hemisphere’s winter – we had a gift of two balmy days (near 70 degrees Fahrenheit) plus several others with temperatures well above freezing.
For weeks and weeks my days have been crammed with things I had to do. Important things. Things I had promised to do. Places I had to go. Meetings I had to run or to attend. Reports or minutes I had to write.
I am supposed to be retired. But there was no leisure. Not that I noticed.
The first 70-degree day was filled, as usual, with obligations. The second 70-degree day was, after a brief morning appointment, completely open.
I live on the high plains only an hour from Rocky Mountain National Park. There were things I could have worked on but Rocky Mountain National Park is only an hour away.
I drove west, through one of Colorado’s most stunningly beautiful canyons, into the town just outside the park. There I had lunch in a restaurant near the river. The water surging beneath, and sometimes over, the ice was worth the trip.
But I was not yet in the park.
As I drove into the park I suddenly knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to sit in the sunshine on a rock in my favorite meadow. So I did – letting the rock and warmth and grasses and trees and the spectacular vista heal me.
Surrounded by growing and eroding things, my soul was restored. I drove slowly through the park and coasted home. Ready to resume my obligations.
Grateful for my winter break.
Thursday, January 29, 2015
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