For Lack of a Better World

This time a year ago, Luna and I were falling in love with Yosemite national park for the very first time. We had driven into the park in the early morning hours well before sunrise and found a parking lot that just so happen to be in full view of Yosemite Falls, an epic . The plan was to spend a full day at the park to have a better understanding of what we would need to bring with us on a longer trip in the future. As sunlight filled the valley and the wonder of this place became more eminent, it was clear that we were in the midst of an experience from which we would not soon be free.

We started out with no plan at all. We had no bearing, no map, no sense of the breadth or the width of the valley floor or the mountain ranges that formed it. We didn’t know the names of the peaks or the number of waterfalls, the season of the year we were in or the fact that there would be a full moon illuminating the landscape throughout the night in a couple of days. It is safe to say that we anticipated nothing and that every day held up a surprise of some kind.

The thing that became immediately obvious to me is that time moved differently here. I felt immediately connected to a tract of geology eons old. And had I sensed time in the conventional manner I might’ve felt the weight of the 42 years of regret weighing down on me for having never made the effort to find this magical place before now. But the grace of this ancient space was enough not only to spare me from such a burden but also to carry me weightlessly through the coming days as I found myself returning to a home I’d never been to before.