Quiet and Calm

I came here to find something, and thought it not strange that I didn’t know what it was.  I wanted something outside the bounds of what I know or imagine, or even suspect.  It’s part of the way life has become after career, ambition, and five-year plans.  I don’t need to know anymore, or even to believe.  I come to Glacier Park with eyes wide open and look around.

I don’t need a plan or hypothesis beyond avoiding trouble, while assuming greater risk in keeping with older age.  I am blessed if I hunger and thirst after Right, not knowing what right is.  I have come to a place of peace in not knowing, peace to live.

Wisdom also is of little value, because there seems something above wisdom, with no way to measure the worth thereof—something above all nature, or above all, Nature.

Be still and know, I say to myself.  Be quiet; be calm.  Stop what you’re doing, look around; see what Nature is doing. Stopping is not a means to an end; it is the end.  Be silent before Nature; read slowly; live slowly.

I am Daughter of Lysle, like Son of David, daughter of the Lion of Judah, of the Prince of Peace.  His name is Life.  He brought me into this place, where I am constrained to be, and to hear his still small voice. 

I am prone to wander, and often think: better to serve what I was taught, than to die in the wilderness.  But here there is shelter and refuge and soul health, a very present help.  Grant me wisdom; grant me courage, as I set feet on lofty places.

A Buried Alien

I took these pictures along a trail that leads southward from Logan Pass to Hidden Lake, on a stormy day.  I got back to the jeep in time to drive down the mountain before they closed the road.  The hard part of the hike was to remain upright in the strong wind.  And to hold the camera steady. 

Gunsight Mountain 9,258 feet’

Stormy days in the high country may decrease as winter approaches or they may increase.  Eventually, the road will close until spring.  No matter, I will hike the lowland until my prepaid monthly rent is expired, or longer.  We are not creatures of weather and roads, but of seeking something.