The "bump and grind" trail, in the hills above Palm Desert, is considered a "moderate" exercise workout for some and a somewhat strenuous climb for others. I would put myself in the latter category but I love the trail and the panoramic vistas of the Coachella Valley that come with the trudging and trekking. This week I climbed the trail again and through the twists and turns and winding and ups and downs I noticed that the recent rains had produced a flurry of green growth. The desperate brown dust gray of summer giving way to a green hew of autumn emergence. The mountain and the desert valley below is cooling down. As I walk the trail, sometimes breathless from the steepness, and at other times simply serene walking pleasure, I am reminded of how the journey is a euphemism for my life. One step at a time, sometimes short steps, sometimes bigger steps, but always one step at a time. Sometimes stepping with uncertainty, sometimes with solid confidence I trek forward. At times I can not look up for taking care to watch the path for jutting rocks or craggy roots or any other unknowns. Sometimes, when I do look up I can't see around the next bend, not knowing what is there, my curiosity and determination take me forward. The vast clear sky above on most days, can witness forbidding clouds on others. One doesn't know what the changes in weather might bring or how a flash flood might wash down on me. As I climb further up the trail, I recognize and feel my aloneness, on the trail, and in life. Yet I see not only the footsteps of those who have gone before me, but I often cross paths with other travelers each on their own journey, their own thoughts, their own concerns, their own hopes and dreams carried silently with them as they traverse the trail up and round and right and left and up some more then down then up then back and forth and up once more. At points of mystic view I stop and marvel at the picturesque lush green valley below, the silence and the serenity. A quiet confidence builds in me as I traverse the well worn trail. Finally, after the last dusty steps, the last of the ancient rounded boulders are passed on the last turn of an endless climb, I reach the top, a stark plateau of maybe 30 yards across. Someone has arranged large rocks on the side of the mountain to the west to spell G O D. At one side of the plateau, near where I stand, there is a small arrangement of a cross. Bending over the rocks an older athletic woman ( older than me, but she is terribly well conditioned ) with a large yellow visor hat is arranging and praying and giving thanks, maybe for her life, her love, her health. I turn to the east and gaze out at the vast green valley below me and thank the Universe, the source, the God. I am the fortunate one. I have all this. I have family and love and nature and beauty. I hear the music of birds, the smell of clover and am witness to the oranges and reds of a rising sun. Thank you Universe for my life. I will keep on trekking with hopes and dreams and love of life. I will do so with exuberance and passion and love, for this is how I live my life with curiosity, adventure, joy and love in my heart.
