Lost in Paradise

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,

And miles to go before I sleep

-- Robert Frost

 

 

I love the quiet here - there are sounds, but not of traffic - all I hear is birds, bees and bullfrogs. The peace and quiet seems so sweet, so tangible. Before I left, my son asked, how is going away and reading in a hermitage different from staying at home and reading in a room? I couldn't articulate a response, and even now I can't, but I feel a difference. I had said it was something to do with my mindset, and it most likely is. Going away to some place new seems to make me alert, be more present, more aware, and that's one of the things I'm constantly trying to remember to do back home. It seems a lot easier to do in new surroundings because I'm not trying so hard to be present - I just happen to be.

I made myself lunch in the tiny kitchenette - potatoes roasted with olive oil and thyme, sat out on the porch and ate them - no, savored them, every bite slowly. It's amazing how simple roasted potatoes tasted so good.

As I was eating, I heard a thud behind me and turned, and there was a slender black snake with a white belly coiled around the branches of an oak tree right behind me. I took a picture, finished eating, and went on that hike I've been longing to go on, excited, full of energy, looking forward to seeing what other wild life was around here. It was a beautiful time of day and year, the sun shining gloriously, a slight breeze rippling through the trees as I walked through them - tall and strong, their leaves a gorgeous spring green, the dark snaky path inviting me in. Every step seemed to make me stop and stare - a new born leaf unfurling, shiny and glistening, a tiny spider the size of a comma but brilliantly red, rushing creeks crossing my path asking me to put my feet into their cool clear waters, delicious looking mushrooms tempting me to pick them (if only I knew which ones edible), tufts of cushiony moss, looking like bright green powder puffs, tiny birds the size of butterflies but singing like they were in an opera, lots more snakes - grey and black ones, some mean looking ones...  

...and on and on the delightful surprises came, until I realized I was lost. Truly and totally lost. There was no path, no civilized sounds or noises, nothing except the sound of twigs breaking under foot. The woods are now not-so-lovely, dark and deep; I walked and walked, probably in circles, or most likely across the entire mountain, or so it seemed. I had nothing with me, except a camera. I couldn't orient myself, try as I did - all that was around me was trees, trees and more trees, birds, butterflies and chipmunks - none who could talk. I remembered stories I read about people gone hiking in the Appalachians and never returning, men going off into the wild and found dead 4 months later, of a guy who slipped, fell and broke a leg and no one came to help because there was no one around to hear.

But amazingly enough, none of these stories scared me. I had a feeling I'd find my way again - that there's no way I could be found if I didn't get lost, that getting lost was the best way to bring myself to the present moment, and that's what I came here for, after all. So I sat down on a flat rock fanning myself with a feathery frond of a fern for a while, and then got going again. And just as suddenly as I thought I was lost, I found my way again. I saw a grassy clearing through the trees and remembered seeing it before and thinking it would make a lovely picnic spot. Now it seemed like holy hallowed ground that I wanted to kneel and kiss the earth!

 

 

I trod my way through broken branches and fallen trees, through the clearing, and onto the trail again. It was still a long way back "home", but my step was lighter and my breathing easier. I picked some wild cranesbill geraniums on my way back, put them in a glass of water, and set it on the little table by the window. And then I fell into bed, for a lovely, long afternoon nap.

Thanks for reading! If you've ever been lost, share your thoughts about how you felt being lost. Did it feel scary or exhilarating? Ever since I got a GPS, I love getting lost ;)