Boots on the ground
I set out early knowing I'd be hiking for hours. The day was cold, dew still clung tenaciously to tree leaves even as sunlight worked to burn it away and bring some vestige of warmth to the morning. I felt those golden rays upon me, warmth radiating inwardly, and as my boots hit the ground I breathed in deeply of the crisp morning air. Those first few moments were glorious; the day, and hike, stretched out ahead of me and I revelled in the known path I'd take, that is, I knew I'd take unknown paths today. My boots were on the ground and it felt good. I felt good.
The sounds of nowhere
They played in counterpoint to the rhythmic crunch of my boots on the track; the sounds of nature.
The trees around me creaked as their boughs moved slightly, slaves to the morning breeze, their leaves fluttered, a million tiny pennons snapping in the wind. Birds flitted here and there, I could hear their wings as they alighted from branches and nests, burst into the air, and they glorified in the gift of flight. Their calls seemed triumphant, almost mocking me for being land-bound and flightless. Grasses swayed, the dry summer grasses rasping against each other loudly and the lush winter grasses much softer, more subdued. Such a beautiful white noise.
I was nowhere, an unnamed place, upon planet Earth, the only human, and I brought my own sounds.
My boots crunched the path, grasses, lush and dry, scrunched beneath their sturdy soles and they scraped upon rocks as I stepped on them crossing creeks and rocky sections of track. My breathing came faster at some points as I climbed, the straps of my backpack rubbed slightly on my shoulders, fabric on fabric, water sloshed in my hydration pack...human sounds, but not out of place.
Moments alone
I enjoy moments like this, hikes upon which I see no one and say nothing.
As I move through nature I get the feeling I'm walking away from everything, that I'm leaving the world and it's strife, turmoil, stress and worry behind. I live amongst humans, we all do, however I like to walk away, become a simple part of nature, and apart from humankind; it's there I find myself. It's there I find peace.
Sunday lunch
Trail mix tastes better when eaten on a trail whilst hiking. I get a sense of connection to my Neanderthal past: Nuts, berries and seeds sustained their lives as it does on the trail for me now.
I'm a little more civilised though, and brought my JetBoil so I could brew up a hot coffee. I sat on the ground, watching the creek meander by with birdsong floating down from on high, eating the small can of tomato and onion flavoured tuna fish and crackers which felt like a feast; simple food tastes better in moments like this. Sure, I could be sitting in a café in a fashionable part of the city, surrounded by strangers [strange humans], but would I feel connected to the planet as I do in the wilderness? Would I feel as connected with myself as I do? No, of course not.
Walking away and coming back
Life, our set amount of time allotted to us on this planet, is unknown.
I recall, as a younger man, not thinking about life, the end of it or how to best value it and use it. I do now though, and I fill mine with as many experiences as I can because I know all too clearly how easily it can be taken from us. This is one of those experiences; hiking.
It's not just about walking away from society, getting exercise or fresh air...it's about drawing closer to myself, thinking without thought to anything but myself, wellbeing, enjoyment and gratitude...It's about living.
Design and create your ideal life, don't live it by default - Tomorrow isn't promised so be humble and kind
Any images in this post are my own