This is a poetic capture of a real-time experience of one of my many 3.5 mile hikes over the years, around beautiful Lost Lake, situated in the high mountain Oregon forests, on the western slope of Mt Hood, in the Cascade Mountains. Truly paradise! I would give everything to be able to make that trek again just once more. But it’s wilderness, and my failed health prevents it from ever happening again. So, when I am blue, I go there still in wonderful memories.
Mt. Hood peak, seen across Lost Lake, in Oregon Cascade range
drum the root chambers
of the old growth
each step
cushioned by centuries of needle-drop
in this ancient forest
enjoying the rise and fall
twist and turn of the trail
I amble dreamlike
my walking stick is smooth
clutched comfortably
in my right hand
tensions dissipate
soothed
by the audible stir of the wind
in the treetops
wafting down the western Cascade slopes
it invigorates
the steady rhythm of my footsteps
hypnotize
rounding a bend in the trail
brushing through waist-high fern
I crest a knoll
and stop
mesmerized
filtered by the towering woodland canopy
light drifts down dreamlike
settles golden
into the natural cathedral before me
a presence is tangible
a breeze enfolds me
filled with the intoxicating scent
of living earth
an addictive bouquet
of cascade red cedar
douglas fir
ponderosa pine
moss
bark
loam
and ionized mountain air
my spirit rises
my being grows weightless
any sense of self floats away
lifted into oneness
wholeness
bliss
suddenly
I’m startled from my reverie
a young doe
bounds onto the trail ahead
stands proud
pauses in the golden light
she considers me briefly
then disappears
quick as a stolen glance
quiet as passing time
darting my eyes
here then there
in a vain attempt to follow her
I catch a glimpse of silver-blue
reflecting resplendent
where massive tree trunks part
this is the reason for my trek
into this mighty wilderness
I step through the opening
and climb a huge boulder
I sit
pull my legs under me
and lean forward
arms folded
elbows on knees
basking in the energy
just below me
an enchanting tangle of driftwood
floats sculpture-like
unmoving
across the magical mirrored lake
rising spectacular
a chiseled mountain peak
coppered
in the evening sun
I grow very still
listen
gaze
rapt
I become this moment
in touch with my soul
with the eternal
transcendent
alone in pristine
old growth paradise
Huge old growth, Lost Lake Trail, Oregon
rob kistner © 2019
Poetry at: earthweal
Hi! I’m Edgrrr, I was rob’s shih tzu. He misses me every day.
