I have been wanting to spend time up on Mt. Lemmon for awhile now. I love the ocean, but I also love being in the woods, and Mt. Lemmon is at an elevation of 9157 ft. so even though it's just 45 minutes away from home, it feels like a completely different world...not a cactus in sight.
The last time I was on the mountain was a year ago, with some of the same people. Each year, IRC Tucson shuts down for a day and the staff has a retreat. It's a day of hanging out, eating way too much food, and playing wacky games for the sheer joy of being silly and laughing together. (It was a bonus that my team won today...huzzah!!) I love the sense of camaraderie this kind of gathering builds. We come down the mountain more bonded and ready to dive in for another year.
That being said, I still really long for a day "up there" by myself where I can leisurely stroll on trails and ponder life, the universe and everything... and bring all of my concerns before God in the midst of His creation. I was able to steal a few moments of that today, and it was like warm oil to my aching soul. The temperature was perfect (neither hot nor cold), the sky was crystal clear, and the scent of pine trees filled the air. I must go back and soak up more of that and soon, before it gets cold. Shivering my way along trails is NOT my idea of a good time.
Anyway, I spent a little time staring at an empty creek bed, imagining it full of rushing water (oh, how I love that sound!). I wondered if there would ever be enough rainfall to fill the creek again; I wondered if the rocks longed for the water or if they were content to be laid bare for however long the dry season would last. Or maybe it's both-and?
Hmm....
Hmmm....indeed.
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