Camping brings gusto to life.
I feel most at home in the woods, setting a camp, tending fire. To do lists fade to become the essentials, of food, of water, of warmth and light, of shelter and company. Abstraction abates. This weekend was time away, a few days spent an hour and 2200’ vertically from home.
I organized the trip, not because it was near my birthday (though it was), but because it seemed a good weekend to get away. I’m not big on self-promoting birthdays. I’m ok either having them be small or having others think of something. I believe it is a time for others to love on you should they want to, not a time for you to demand attention from them.
And so it was we found ourselves at the top of Max Patch on Saturday evening. The sky was mottled with hiccups of summer storms that divinely passed us by. Max Patch is a place where it seems as if the divine breathes; where earth and sky are more intimate with each other. The grass was tall and damp and we spent the afternoon barefoot. I feel that being barefoot like that allows some magic from the earth to seep up through me, some ancient affirmation to creep in and whisper.
Ian and Tammy had graciously brought an obscenely large bottle of champagne for a mountain top toast. I love giving toasts; I love public speaking so this should be no surprise. But I was bested.
My dear friends, who love me for reasons I don’t quite understand, gave toasts to me.
They told me they loved me, they affirmed me in ways I so needed but couldn’t express. I am still humbled and shocked by it. I know I am a liked person, but I often forget to realize that those I love also love me. It was the best gift I could have been given, that elusive present of light, life, love, community, sky, joy, grace, breath, food, touch and future, found in the damp grass atop a mountain.
Thank you thank you thank you, dear friends.
[My birthday was amazing—thank you for all the calls and notes and emails!!! And thanks to my dear roommate Katie for the volume 1 soundtrack to Glee and to my dad for my new fly rod and reel. Something very funny about re-spooling a fly reel while listening to the soundtrack to a sugary show about a high school glee club. Then I went out to Thirsty Monk for drinks with Katherine, Robin, Caroline, Tara and Margarita. What gracious and audacious and impressive ladies.]
