there's a stretch of trail that runs a few miles here and a few miles there out on the edge of town. it's an old Nickelplate railroad path - with the tracks now removed. i've been down this trail many times... on foot and on bike. this morning, the trail was nearing the end of a life cycle, giving it's all - breathing out color and at the same time, expunging its last bit of air. the outgoing air was fuel to my feet and legs. it wasn't energy-burning fuel. i was breathing in consistency.
i soaked it all in. i drank it up. the mental image of the long trail, coated with leaves, sun soaked and damp from the morning dew has now been forever ingrained within my mind. the fall foliage served as a playground for the birds of the air and the hidden creatures of the ground.
what is it that makes creation so spectacular? the cycle is repeated; the seasons the same. the sun rises and sets everyday. the gladdening light shines upon the land. the wind blows. the leaves fall. the flowers and trees die and then spring to life again every year. this is nothing new. what is it about nature that seems so fresh - when we take the time to engage with it?
like a forgotten friend, the trail is there. waiting for me. for you. for us - to take to the path - to set ablaze the road. to leave our footprints on its terrain - as if to serve as a sign of our temporary engagement. the rocks cry out and rejoice, thankful for our presence.
there is a connection between the earth and man. perhaps because we once came from the dust.
the trail of beauty was a trail of its own demise - its impending death continually serving a purpose, a necessity of nature and of the world. its necessity breeds my fidelity, ability, propensity and supremacy. i conquered the trail with invigorated steps.
to be at one with nature is a beautiful thing. to connect with a Higher power through the chill of the morning air, the color of the fallen leaves, through the words and lyrics of my iPod companion - it made for an experience to be embraced.
and i embraced it.
soon, the death of nature will be covered in white. my moment this morning will sustain me until the coming spring.