Camping in the Rain

A mind that is stretched by a new experience can never go back to its old dimensions.

Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr.

A view of the start of Appalachia at sunset

The thing about

camping in the rain

is that when the rain stops

you go outside-

and you are lighter,

the world is lighter,

the birds are singing again

and a little joy creeps back

into your heart

and you walk the muddy path

splashing just a little bit more

than strictly necessary

smiling like you never saw the sun

until just today

when it pushed its way

past the heavy clouds

and shined.

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Rain-soaked White Cave Path at Mammoth Cave National Park, where my boots got muddy, and I smiled to be back outside.

Tall grass flattened by rushing rainwater on the hillside next to the path to the historic cave entrance at Mammoth Cave

A journey is a person in itself; no two are alike. And all plans, safeguards, policing, and coercion are fruitless. We find that after years of struggle that we do not take a trip; a trip takes us.

John Steinbeck

This trip was not what I expected. I expected quiet and peace and trails and warm nights reading by a campfire. What I got was a lot of rain. Thunder. Tornado and hail warnings. More rain. Flooded campgrounds. Then, periodically, the sun would come out and I would get out and go. It made every moment I spent outside really special. In Arkansas, I got to experience the warm steam rising from the ground at Hot Springs National Park on a cold day. In Tennessee, I got to run along the Mississippi River. In Alabama, I got to hike with my sister, Rita at a beautiful little trail system near her home. In Kentucky, I ventured into a deep cave (see last week’s post here) and came out with a resolution to face my fears instead of avoiding them, and I’m excited about that shift in my attitude. The trip wasn’t what I expected at all; but on reflection, I think it was exactly what I needed it to be.

Now I am home in Michigan, where all the spring flowers are blooming early. The air is cool and crisp in the morning, and the neighborhood animals (and the neighbors!) are making me feel welcome. I’m so happy to be here. Thank you for being here with me. See you next week.

a mass of lilies of the valley cover the ground in the woods near my home

Claustrophobia in the Caves

The ground of fearlessness is fear. In order to be fearless, you have to stand in the middle of your fear.

Larry Rosenberg

the metal door slams.

I’m trapped.

the walls are close

the steps are narrow

so many people

so little air

so far

down

we go

so deep

earth

pressing

in

on

me

the guide turns out the lights to tell us how this section of the cave was discovered

i stay behind the rest of the group, a shadow of fear

I feel myself lightening up a little as the cave widens, and I know the exit is not far

a stalactite chandelier in the Frozen Niagra

Smile, breathe and go slowly.

Nhat Hanh

From the safe distance of a few days, several hundred miles and a bit of perspective, my claustrophobic panic in the Mammoth Cave seems like a bad dream. I have made somewhat of a joke of this fear I have of being trapped, but this two hour tour in Mammoth Cave National Park, called Domes and Dripstones, made me realize how bad my claustrophobia has really become. I made it through the cave tour and was even feeling pretty light at the end, when I knew my exit was near - but I’ve had a residual feeling of panic and resistance afterward. I think it’s time I learn to face this. I understand now that I’m not only afraid of being trapped, but I’m afraid of the panic I experience when feeling trapped. I am afraid of my fear. I can only see that getting worse if I don’t work with it. Do you have any “irrational” fears? Do you have any ideas about how to work with them? I’d love to hear what you think.

Hope you have a great weekend. See you next week!

My last morning at Mammoth Cave it rained, and then a fog blanketed everything.

Soaking in Texas

All beauty of this world is wet with the dew of tears.

Theodor Haecker

The morning after a stormy night

a few raindrops linger

and a silent fog rolls in

Love is not a hot-house flower, but a wild plant, born of a wet night, born of an hour of sunshine; sprung from wild seed, blown along the road by a wild wind.

John Galsworthy

I had a great time visiting my family in Fort Worth this week. The weather was unusually cloudy and rainy for spring in Texas, but not unwelcome -the wildflowers are more abundant than I’ve ever seen them this year. It was a short visit. Now I’m blowing on down the road like a wild seed on a wild wind.

Hope your week was beautiful Thank you for to everyone who shared your photos experimenting with frames! Keep on sending! Maybe they will end up in a future post. Love to you all. See you next week.

An absolute

patience.

Trees stand

up to their knees in

fog…

Denise Levertov