Early this morning, 7-year-old “puppy” Scampi and I drove ten minutes north to Griffy Lake, and took the “Hiking Trail” (which goes up a hill and down), and part of the “Griffy Creek” trail. Had fun. Took pics.

I knew I needed to get back in the forest. To feel the generous spacious blessing in the presence of trees, all invisibly conjoined, underground, feeding each other nutrients. I knew I had to remember that we humans are also trees, rooted Below, open to the surround, seeking the mysterious Above; for when we DO manage to halt, for a few moments — or even a few minutes (if we’re lucky) — that frantic busy bee monkey mind, or I should say, feel through the barrier monkey mind presents, to deeply sense our own mysterious bodily interior, that spacious presence in which our bodies, each one like a tree, an antenna for Earth, is enveloped, like a prayer, a blessing — then my forest walk would bear fruit.

Which it did. It always does. Always.

And of course, I couldn’t help but stop and reverently place my forehead on one of the tall standing trees, remain there for nearly a minute, until the usual incipient dizziness pushed me back.

Some photos. Shown in chronological order.

 

Here we are having already taken the trail to the top of the hill, the morning light hinting: yes, follow the trail east!

Here we are going along the top of the trail, the forest light-filled.

Here we are, at the top, with Griffy Creek down below. Notice BTW, the small, nearly lime green space in the middle of the photo. Even before I took it I wondered: what is this? Well, it turns out it is part of the creek, below, though it looks like it’s elevated. Strange. Of course, I go through my usual wondering: do we exist in some kind of simulation?

By this time we’re on our way down the other side, and have been weaving through massive destruction on both sides of trail. I wonder, some kind of straight-line, massive wind that accompanied one of the recent thunder storms? A tiny dericho? There were times on this section of the trail that I felt “lost,” given that the usual landmarks were no longer present, the partly recent destruction had upended my sense of familiarity.

Beautiful mushrooms at base of big tree. What kind?

Here we are,  along the creek, nearly the finish line.