I’m trying to keep myself open to unexpected delights as a part of this journey which means, to some extent, eschewing my usual anti-social tendencies and actually speaking to people. On the trail that might mean an acknowledgement and a quick hello although sometimes that leads to a bit of a longer interaction. Case in point has been today.
I’m sitting on a rock under Hickman Bridge (more on it in a bit) writing in a notebook (don’t worry, I’m not taking my laptop hiking with me—I transcribe in the evenings and upload when I reach a stable connection). This isn’t the same solitude as yesterday; this is a popular, shortish hike that draws families with younger children. But there’s beauty here unlike anything I’ve ever seen. And there are delightful surprises everywhere. The view as I’m writing is amazing—white rock littered with holes left from erosion. A wash dotted with juniper. This amazing bridge, carved out over tens of thousands of years, streaked with red and black layers of rock. And snow still covering parts of the wash and cliffs, forming a sprinkling of white in contrast to the rust red of the rocks.
Hickman Bridge, Capitol Reef National Park, Utah
Every so often families or smaller groups of hikers come through. More than once today I’ve volunteered to take pictures of groups to the delight and gratitude of more than one person. It’s interesting, everyone always seems surprised when I volunteer to take their pictures. I wonder why? Have we so devolved into the worst forms of tribalism that we simply assume that there is no kindness or decency left? Nevertheless, I see offering to take a picture as a small kindness and it gives me pleasure. For a brief moment there is a spark of connection that exists in spite of everything that divides us. And, I must admit, that I am quite surprised at how much I enjoy, sometimes even crave, these moments of connection. It’s a moment when we’re united by nature and a sense of beauty and awe and wonder.
I think there is something to that brief moment of connection that affirms our humanity in spite of everything else. I’m fairly sure that the Mormon father of four young children doesn’t share my political views or would even affirm my existence as a transman (although perhaps that is my own bias and prejudice talking). But for a brief moment we bonded over the beauty surrounding us. They live nearby, and I would like to think that I gave him the gift of seeing this place with fresh eyes.
And then there was the older woman with her two adult children who was curious as to why I was sitting here writing. We had a brief conversation about adult students, she finished college in her 30s, and the importance of educational opportunities. Another delightful surprise. Now, I am playing peek-a-boo with my most recent visitor—a curious chipmunk. Every so often I catch a glimpse of him/her (do chipmunks acknowledge gender) out of the corner of my eye as they scamper about, eyeing me curiously and cautiously.
But now it’s time to move along. I’ve lunched on hummus, hard cheese, chili mango slices, and hot vanilla tea. It’s not the most gourmet of lunches, but in this environment it feels like a veritable feast. Time to see what lies around the next bend.