In September, I stood along the snowy banks of Summit Lake, the fishing rod cold in my hands, the water black and broken as silent flakes fell. Fog descended, and I casted into the grey wall, awaited the quiet “ploonk” of the lure. I slowly reeled in, pulled up the line, cast again. The fog breathed in and out, and the fish weren’t interested, but the moment opened my eyes once again to the power of being present and absorbing as much of every experience as possible.
Another cycle around the sun; another series of chapters, stories, and photographs have been shared. I really pinch myself whenever I get a chance to review the pictures I’ve taken, and remember the adventures of the past year. I’ve travelled solo and with good friends; shared many quiet moments watching waterfalls or sunsets; howled with laughter under a number of super moons. My trusted Truck of Fun and I journeyed far from home. I wrestled with my nephews. Saw my first moose lunching in an alpine lake. Cheered as I cut ski turns in Sierra powder (yes, there was PLENTY of snow on which to play). I even reached the summit of Mt. Whitney for the 15th time.
A solo ski tour from June Lake to Tuolumne; gentle stepping across the ridge of Bloody Mountain; the Eureka Dunes in full bloom; almost stepping on a tiny nest of eggs burrowed into the tundra of Humphreys Basin; making Pop an amazing brunch spread for Father’s Day; watching an incredible sunset on my birthday at Lake Italy; anxiously listening to the surf creep towards my tent on the Olympic Peninsula; the clouds parting across the Cascades, and the smell of Christmas dripping from the pines; the majesty of Glacier National Park, which can only be described by moments and experiences instead of a few choice words; coming home to my Sierra and finding hearts and endless vistas; a gorgeous dragonfly landing on my chair and posing for its close-up; rainbows above a hidden bench of orange aspen; helping out mom after her back surgery; the first snow of fall tickling my face and coating the brim of my hat as I wrestle to set up my tent; inch-long frost coating strands of grass in a marsh near 10,000ft; skating the high lakes as clouds streamed overhead.
“What lies ahead? I wonder to the emptiness. / That grand question which may only be answered / By venturing forth, unafraid. ” – The Green Dot Tour, LEM
I’m not sure what lies ahead, but that’s part of the fun. It’s like casting into the cloud.
May the coming year, and many more, bring you happiness, laughter, and the excitement of venturing out into the unknown.
Whhhheeezzzhhhhh… Ploonk.
A year in review slide show:
Thanks to all for coming along on the ride!
From the luckiest girl in the world:
Climb Hard. Be Safe.
The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2014 annual report for this blog.
Here's an excerpt:
A New York City subway train holds 1,200 people. This blog was viewed about 4,400 times in 2014. If it were a NYC subway train, it would take about 4 trips to carry that many people.
Makin' Moose Tracks 