Yosemite Valley from above

One of my favorite places in the world to be is Yosemite Valley in the Fall. At the bottom of everything — granite for miles, towering above. In the Fall, the temperature of the Earth starts to meet the Sun as the Northern hemisphere drops into the start of darkness. Still hot during the day, and starting to dip into frigidity when the moon lifts. With that change from Summer comes changes in the rock that lifts from the valley. Water that was once flowing, creeps into the cracks between rock and freezes at night — expanding the space between what was once one shape, becoming another — stretched. Granite yawns, stretches, pops and cracks — until there’s an undoing and release. Boulders the size of small houses tumble almost elegantly down from the cliffs above. Exposing new rock — something totally virgin to the air, eyes, the sun. Light crawls across the patterning and something new is created. Scars are highlighted, the wall of the mountain side offers newness unearthed. Not without slow and sometimes rapid expansion — TOO QUICK — slow down. Growing pains. Stretch marks. Expansion in separation from what was home for thousands of years! Pain in that.

I think about the destruction and absolute fucking heartache those rockfalls bring. How they change lives in an instant and how tragedy lives beneath the breaking up of things too heavy to imagine hurling through the blue bird sky. And, I see the choice, too. Erosion or expansion. Or both at the same time. To open to sunlight or be tucked away beneath something large, strong — behind a wall, in darkness and safe. Both have their time. There is choice in being so close to something so unpredictable — life, nature, being alive. Absolute fucking majesty. Releasing something stuck. And, beauty in rock being warmed from the inside out, water getting into the cracks, freezing, expanding and exploding into pieces. Let it soften. Let it soften. Let it soften. Water forgives the edges and touches all the sharp parts, melts into them, loosens them. It is all accepted as something to wash over. Let me love even that piece of myself. Even in the deep dark. At the bottom of everything amongst giants. Choose to see, if you look. Everything softens in time.

Clouds Rest from above

Lover of words, community and connection. Formerly, Wilderness Therapy, Basecamp and SoundCloud. Currently, living in the woods and working for Wildbit.