Wonder. Beauty. Creativity.

"The artist and the photographer  seek the mysteries and the adventure of experience in nature ."   By Ansel Adams P.C. Barbara Frohne, Tom McCall Point

A moment of wonder and beauty as snow flakes dance from the sky.  Catching crystals in my hair and  on my lashes, I pause to breath deeply the fresh air.  My mind strives to take in all this white colored beauty, created out of water turned cold.  Insulating blankets draped over tree branches wait for spring warmth.  My skis leave tracks, but after I pass on, more falling snow will cover every trace of my visit to this mountain forest. I wonder at the silence and carry the peace home.

Starting out earlier than my eyes wanted to open, I filled my pack with food, snacks, water, extra layers of clothes, and rain gear. We wanted to get to Paradise, the highest lodge on the mountain while there was still a parking place that mid-August morning. Hiking the Skyline trail through alpine wildflower meadows was something I had dreamed of for several years. I’d seen photographs of the mountain with fields of Lupines and Indian Paintbrush in the foreground, and I longed to experience those lush meadows myself. This was not one of those blue sky mornings where everything seems fresh and clear, invigorating heart and spirit. Instead, clouds hung in close and a light rain fell from the sky.  In many ways, the rain was a relief, a break from the dense, smoky air back at home. Breathing was easy. The clean, moist, air felt good in my lungs. A raincoat would help keep me dry and warm. Starting up the trail from the parking lot towards the lodge I found my first flowers

“Youth is happy  because it has the capacity  to see beauty.  Anyone who keeps the ability  to see beauty  never grows old.”  ―  Franz Kafka Life can be such a rush.  I rush on past the things that bring me most peace and joy, feeling pressed and stressed.  Taking time for a nature reboot, to stop and wonder, to deeply see, to treasure with my senses created beauty transforms the whole day.   Last night I lost my cell phone.  When I went to bed, I didn't know where it was, but I knew it wasn't at home.  Likely I left in the room where I attended a meeting.  But I could have dropped it on the lawn I crossed in the dark.  It could have slipped into the trash with the paper plates I tossed.  Or maybe I didn't notice that I dropped it in the parking lot while talking to a friend.   This morning I traced my steps back to where the meeting was located.  It wasn't in the parking lot or on the soggy lawn.  Security didn't have it. I couldn'