Writer - Author - Poet
Writer - Author - Poet

Yesterday, I did not turn on my computer or my phone and left my house for the day, traveling up north about twenty-five miles or so; first on the highway, then onto a dirt forest service road for several bumpy miles until I reached the trail head –destination, a secluded high mountain lake.

Before I swung on my daypack, I checked the outside temperature: 45 degrees Fahrenheit. The narrow earthen path had several puddles and the rain drops on the underbrush indicated it had indeed rained the evening before. The sunshine warmed my legs as I headed up the first switchback.

Several miles later, I came to a rock slab and began a vertical climb to a ridge. At the top, breathtaking views of a distant mountain range appeared from the north. I stopped only for a moment or two before continuing my way to a lake nestled among three mountain peaks, the grey-black rock in sharp contrast to the soft blue hues of the water.

I found a flat boulder overlooking the lake and decided it was the perfect lunch spot. First, I removed my sweat soaked t-shirt and snuggled into a warm fleece pullover; then, poured a cup of lavender-chamomile tea from a thermos I seem to always insist on bringing whenever I head into the high country.

I think I must’ve sighed a dozen times, letting my thoughts drift. A golden eagle flew overhead –my guess, searching for an unsuspecting pika. I watched the bird make several dives seemingly right into the rock crevices and admired its’ tenacity and razor-sharp focus –something I’ve come to appreciate more and more as my book launch nears and the cover of my book grace the pages of Amazon and Target and posters and social media pages.

After my return from the solitude of hiking in the hills, I resisted the temptation to turn on my computer or check my phone, hopeful that the peace of the day would stay nestled in my heart for a few more hours before answering the author call to duty. I’m no expert about raptors, but I do know that eagles eventually rest as well.

How did you find solace this week?


© 2021. Sharon Kreider. All Rights Reserved.