Ah, back at work. After a 3-day weekend spent backpackign in the Weimenuche. The sun shone brightly every morning, and disappeared mysteriously behind a veil of clouds and mist and straight down-no-nonsense rain after a few hours every day. We might as well have been in Ireland with the undulating green hills and rocky out-croppings and damp weather and abundant water. But when the clouds parted just enough we could see the jagged and shiny wet peaks around us and we were reminded that we were very much in the heart of my favorite mountains. And I fell in love as I do every time I visit the MFMs (My Favorrite Mountains). I love their cragginess and expanse and clear lakes and basins of wildflowers and softness of the rolling green fields in contrast with the sharp stern mountains. The wildflowers were, amazing. It was as if someone had taken multi colored paint and poured it down from the top of the mountains and the paint had settles in the basins and the valley floors in amazing patterns of pinks and golds, magentas and blues, lavenders and mauves and red, greens and whites and saffrons. The unreplicable (I think I just made up that word) manifestation of some greater good, some greater being, some greater beauty, draped on the hills. And in the evenings the rain would stop and sleep was peaceful and quiet.
And the company was lovely. My friend took tea breaks and moved quickly, and didn’t complain sincerely about the rain, and made delicious meals, and laughed, and we experimented making cheese toast on a camp stove, and we talked about our childhoods and dreams and traveling and relationships and meditation and tax credits and goals and love and herbs and families and all things wonderful.
What, as usual, a beautiful weekend! pictures to be added soon!
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