I step out of the bus, into the full light of morning and I feel the sun’s warmth and energy on my skin. I wipe sleep from my eyes and then stretch my arms toward the bluebird sky. Grabbing my binoculars, I meander my way through a stony meadow, snaking my way around boulders and bitterbrush, serviceberry and choke cherry, heading towards the creek. As I slowly pick my way to the creek, I hear the songs of yellow warblers, cedar waxwings and others I do not know and the omnipresent background roar of the creek itself as it rushes down from glaciers high atop Gardner Mountain. I reach the tree-lined bank and take off my glasses as I crouch down to wash my face in the frigid water. This morning ritual of washing my face with cold water, awakens me to the day. I hear the whine of a mosquito and watch it alight on my forearm.
This is something I do every morning here and it now has become a ritual, which somehow makes it more than a random or careless act. In fact, I take great care with this ritual and even bow to and thank the creek and flowing water. Thanking it for what, I don’t know. Just thanks I suppose.
These morning ablutions, create a sense of newness and renewal and I let go with each splash of cold water and turn towards the burgeoning day. This day is a new day and this simple ritual may allow me to step more lightly upon my way. What if each step was taken as a ritual? What if each place was seen as sacred? What if each moment was seen as magical and all people chosen? What would our days be like then?
As this thought lingers a moment in my mind, I become reabsorbed by the rushing water and noise of Wolf Creek. Before turning towards the possibilities of the day, I pause a moment, bow and thank the creek for always being there – refreshing, cleansing and invigorating.
Written by David LaFever