Mountain waterfall

A few weeks ago I had another amazing experience on Katahdin. I had the opportunity to be a part of group of eight people who hiked/climbed the Hunt Trail. I knew a few of the people and met the others the night before our adventure. I had been on Katahdin the previous summer - up and down the Saddle Trail - so I knew the ruggedness of the mountain. But the Hunt Trail, though gentle at the beginning, is an incredibly challenging endeavor. Once we reached the rocky ledges before the tableland I became pretty maxed out, physically and emotionally, and later spiritually. This was not at all a bad thing, just intense. The group I was with banded together to help each other in so many ways and the caring support was an integral part of the experience. There was one point where tears surfaced for me. I tried to hold them back, but they were not to be denied. I can clearly admit that they were in part due to fear (it was VERY steep), but there was much more. The support was part of it and I also had a very subtle connection to Barry. I had the sense that he was there in the background, sort of lending his appreciation from afar. I wasn't looking for it, but it was definitely there, and in those moments I felt so very grateful for so many things.
This poem, I think, surfaced as a way of explaining those tears. The above picture is of Katahdin Falls which we passed fairly early on during the day.

Mountain Waterfall

Luscious liquid falls from solid ground
into the freedom of the air.
Some molecules softly dissipate into mist
while others,
bound together by earthly forces,
crash onto protruding rocks, roots, and trees.
One way no better than the other,
they coexist in that space
at that time
to make a lovely display
of the sweetness and surrender
of letting go
and the strength and courage
of flowing ahead.

Sarah Carlson

August 26, 2011