Lessons on the wall

Ah. It's so nice to shower again. I love camping, I really do, but the moment you get home and wash off 3 days' worth of sweat and grime from your body is oh so sweet.

I had a good trip, one I desperately needed. It was good to get away from work for several days (and especially nice since I still don't have to return to work until Tuesday). Sometimes you just need to stop what you're doing and go do something different before it drives you mad.

We went to Capitol Reef National Park because I had been there only briefly on my last camping trip and really wanted to spend some more time there. This is the perfect time to spend in red rock country. A little later in the year I'll move on toward the mountains and forests further north, but for now I'm enjoying the glorious colors of southern Utah.

And how colorful it was. I couldn't believe how green and red and blue everything was. The sky was crystalline next the the richly colored cliffs surrounded by so many shades of vegetation. The colors seemed to come alive before us.

We went on 5 hikes in 2 days, so needless to say, my feet are about ready to fall off. On one hike, we climbed up a mountainside to end beneath an arch that sloped right over our heads. On another, we climbed an entire mountain, straight up most of the way, and walked on top of the arch at right, though you can barely see us in this photo (we're the two specks right in the middle). I can't say I'll ever have a chance to do something like that again, so it was an incredible experience I'll always treasure.

One thing I really pondered throughout all this was how much I needed to appreciate the moment. So often I get caught up in rushing through life, trying to get everything done so I'll eventually be happy. Why not stop, take a breath, and appreciate the beauty that surrounds me?

But when I get to those places where I know I should stop and look around me, I'm too busy trying to capture it all with my camera so I can save it for later. Why can't I learn to savor each moment and have the memories, not just the photographs, to hold on to?

And why must I try to stretch each moment out? I get so frustrated when I can't seem to make things last as long as I want to. I have to realize that this is how life is, filled with little moments that collectively fill a lifetime. Just because we can't capture memories in a jar to preserve them forever, and even though they tend to fade over time, it doesn't mean they aren't precious or won't be there when it matters. I have to treasure each moment while I can--while I'm there-- and move on to the next when it is time.

No more holding onto the past longer than is due. Time to create new memories while continuing to savor the old.

Those are just some of the lessons these old rock walls have taught me. I wonder how many other lessons they've taught through the eons? Too many to tell.