Mountain Church

At a contra dance I asked my partner what she does for a living. "A Lutheran Minister" she replied, and told me the church where she teaches at. During our conversation I admitted to her I have not been to a church in years. "Its just too hard to be inside on a Sunday Morning, when you can be out somewhere where there is the familiar scent of pine.", I told her. And its true - My idea of a good Sunday is breathing in the fresh mountain air and walking among trunks of patterned black to light brown bark, through the light green needles of a Ponderosa Pine forest. Up there I may get a glimpse of a mountain lion, or more likely mulde deer grazing on a hillside, or a coyote retreating through the mahogany and serviceberry. Some days I may feel the warmth of the sun as it rises over the plains. But even those days that are cool and windy are ok though. To hear the wind breezing through those branches is what I crave, and the best kind of hymnn there is.

I have no doubt that some very spiritual people feel God in a building on a Sunday Morning. But there are others of us who feel the divine outside, walking alone in the woods on a high ridge.

That is pretty close to what my dance partner minister said to me when I told her how I like to spend Sunday mornings. - some people are comfortable with solitude; others need to be affirmed of the divine in the presence of people. This made me think she was a wise lady, and even more so to undersand the renewal and joy of dancing.

She laughed when I told her my best weeks are those when I am alone in the mountains with my dogs, and then come down to dance and celebrate for the weekend.

My bet is that a lot of backpackers are like me, comfortable with the life and entertainment of the city, where we do our jobs, but the away time is precious, and is similar to going to church.

I am pretty sure I could spend a lifetime of Sundays in church and not feel what I did on my approach to the Cirque of the Towers, when two hawks drifted down on the thermals, to soar just above the spruce and fir treetops, in front of the white peaks of the divide.