The Wall

I had a dream about god last night. I don't remember exactly what message the dream was supposed to have for me, but I do know he was not happy with me. He stood over me, glowering. There were pine trees and a brook and a steep hill. That's all I recall.

/

So I woke up this morning, considered my work load and took off for a walk in the woods, to High Rocks Vista near Point Pleasant, Pa. This is a haven for rock climbers year-round and ice climbers in the winter, and it's the only place I would refer to as "my sanctuary" within two hours of my front door --- especially now, as spring has officially taken hold. On this warm April day, I found a comfortable spot on a sheer bluff overlooking Tohickon Creek and listened to the creek pass by, its waters swollen with winter melt. I lay down on a slab of red rock and simply ... existed. I took a few minutes to dream up a short story about the grisly demise of a through-hiker styled after someone I know too well and then read from a book ("The Monsters of Templeton" by Lauren Groff) for two more hours.

/

Vultures circled overhead. A red-headed woodpecker tapped on the bark of a tree whose branches stretched into the open space above the Tohickon. The sun warmed my stubbly face. My legs dangled over the wall of rock. All the stress of my life melted away. I had no problems. I had no responsibilities. Life was perfect. I was alone and unmolested. I could breathe again. And I smiled.