Better Late Than Never

Fall was late this year in Vermont. We wondered if it would ever arrive or just go straight from summer to winter. The trees were parched as we had little rain. And we wondered if this would affect their color. We waited. We watched. We wondered.

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Then it came. And it was as glorious as ever. I found myself once again in awe at this amazing natural cycle and rhythm. Nature knows. Nature has patience. Nature follows her own timetable. And it was better late than never.

I am also following mine. In this journey called life I am finding I need to have patience too. For so long I have meandered. I have traveled different paths only to find they ended and I had to turn around. Others paths have led me closer to the answers this heart of mine yearns for. Yet I’m still meandering. I am still learning. And I am still growing.

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It is a beautiful thing, this journey. As I dive a little deeper into who I am and to what my purpose here is, I find surprising discoveries..

I am more present. I am feeling tremendous gratitude for the many precious gifts in my life. I am listening closer to what my heart is telling me. It’s not always perfectly clear, but I’m getting better at truly hearing what’s inside me. It’s a journey of progress. Of steps. Of surrendering. Of opening and expanding and most of all…letting go.

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After 23 plus years of sobriety, I think I’m finally figuring it all out. Better late than never.

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Heaven’s Gulch

I tried to get to Devil’s Gulch last year, but along the way I was distracted by Ritterbush Pond and never made it any further.

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This year, I was determined to hike there and to see this unique natural feature on the Long Trail near Belvedere Mountain.

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It was a beautiful day when we set out. Ritterbush Pond appeared, and we did linger there for awhile. How could we not? The calm reflective waters invite lingering.

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But it was Devil’s Gulch that was our destination. The trail there is deceiving. It travels down instead of up. Down, down, down. Deep into a narrow valley.

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A ladder leaning up against a rock face is the first clue that there is more to this place than meets the eye.

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At the top of the ladder you look down into the gulch. Devil’s Gulch. I expected something dark and sinister. But what I saw seemed more like an entrance to a magical and enchanted place. An opening into another time and dimension. It captured my heart immediately and completely.

Huge rocks and boulders lay scattered about before me. Some resting precariously and others seemed as if they had been there forever.

Thickly coated in emerald green moss and lichen. Tree roots embracing and holding them in place.

An altar appeared. Made of rocks and moss. It felt almost church like. And I wondered why. Why was this beautiful place named Devil’s Gulch?

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As the sunlight filtered through the overhead trees and we explored this captivating place, I realized it didn’t matter why. To me, it felt more like Heaven’s Gulch.

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A place of serenity, peace…and a little bit like heaven.

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Weekly Photo Challenge: Symbol

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I discovered this compass on top of hill near rocky cliffs on the coast of Maine. I have used it frequently in my writing. To me, it symbolizes what my life is all about. The path I’m traveling, and my journey towards myself. The compass reminds me, life takes us in many directions. Sometimes we get lost. And sometimes we get found. And sometimes in getting lost we are found.

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Symbol.”

Springtime at the Quarries

They always surprise me, these abandoned quarries.

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I always discover something new each time I go. A new trail. Another new hidden quarry. A new view. A new sense of awe.

In the springtime, the quarries show their true colors. The deep and mineral rich water sparkles brilliantly in the sun.

The leaves fill in the woods and trails filtering light and giving life to the things that grow here.

The rocks, scarred and striated, stand tall and proud above the glorious pools below.

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This newness…is how I wish to live my life. Each day a new beginning. Each day a new chance. Each day a new adventure.

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And the quarries in springtime remind me just how beautifully brand new each day is.

Sea Glass

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Sea glass. Glass that has been worn smooth by the turbulent ocean waves. Sometimes called tears of the sea…

Or mermaid tears.

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I have a passion for sea glass. I search for it whenever I am by the ocean. I have yet to find any pieces amongst the sand, rocks, and shells. But this doesn’t deter me. It is a quest. A quest to discover these beautiful marvels from the sea.

I’m not quite sure where this passion came from. Perhaps it is because I love the ocean and therefore anything and everything that has to do with the ocean. Or could it be that these tiny treasures remind me of life? They represent a life of storms, of depth, of forces…Thunderous and fierce.  Which then lead to a calmness, a softness… Edges worn smooth, as they find their way out of the raging tempest to land finally upon the beach. 

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I know that life has shaped and softened me. My experiences, my choices, my sorrows, my losses, my heartbreaks, have tossed me about.  Like the crashing ocean life has sometimes crashed around me. And then I find myself washed ashore…In a new place with a new perspective.  Peaceful, compassionate, thoughtful, and calm.  Like sea glass. The same, yet different.

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