August heat and more

Iceberg Lake and Mt Baker on way to Bagley Lakes

I took this picture last Thursday while on the hike with the Senior Trailblazers. I thought a few years ago that I would never see this sight again, that I was finally unable to take such hard hikes. And now that it's over, I realize I was right: it was almost too much for me. I've learned a valuable lesson and won't be going up into the High Country again on hot sunny days. I just don't have the stamina and ability to cool off like I once did. But I still had a great time, once I was back to the cars and ready to cool off and enjoy the nice ride back to the Senior Center. I needed to be out of the direct sun, especially at altitude. We spent the entire day above 5,000 feet elevation, and with that sunshine, it was (for me) rather brutal. I did make it, but I felt bad for my fellow hikers who had to listen to me whine. It's a bad habit of mine, but it always makes me feel a little better when I get to complain.

On Friday, I finally got myself properly rehydrated, and truly enjoyed my monthly massage. It was scheduled weeks ago, but sure made me feel like a million bucks when I walked out of there with what felt like a brand-new body. I also slept incredibly well for a couple of nights, as I felt myself begin to come back to my new normal.

I keep forgetting how old I am, and how much of a difference it makes when you exercise in heat, humidity, and thin mountain air. I took my ability for granted for so long, that I could do whatever I put my mind to, But! I am an octogenarian now, for heaven's sake! That said, I remember someone once telling me that whatever doesn't kill you, makes you stronger. So I figure I must be much stronger today.

And I realize how incredibly blessed I am to have the ability to hike, and walk, and generally move through my days with little discomfort. I intend to enjoy every moment of every day, to the fullest. I just have to scale it back a notch. Or two.

Sitting here in the early morning with my laptop, I can see how much the days have shortened since the summer began. We have reached Lammas (from Wikipedia):

In Anglo-Saxon England, Lammas was the name for the first day of August and was described in Old English literature as "the feast of first fruits," being mentioned often in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle. It was probably the day when loaves baked from the first of the wheat harvest were blessed at church.

It is also halfway from the summer solstice to the fall equinox, and that means the journey back through time's arrow towards the dark days of winter. Since I was born in December, I guess that might be one reason why I feel more comfortable with shorter days and longer nights. Up here in the Pacific Northwest, the difference in day and night length is pretty pronounced. I love most of the weather and whatnot up here, except for the longest and hottest days.  And compared to the rest of the country, we are enjoying mild temperatures, in the low eighties (27°C) rather than triple digits.

Me in front of Mt Shuksan last week

I have seen this wonderful mountain when it was winter and covered with snow, when it's been so cloudy that I could barely make it out, and even like this, in the summer heat. I will cherish these days forever. But I'm already looking forward to my favorite season, fall. I forget sometimes to be grateful for the wonderful life I have been given, but not right now. Today, Sunday August 4th, I am filled with gratitude.

Tomorrow I get my next eye jab, which of course I am not looking forward to exactly, but I am also grateful that there is actually something that might allow me to keep my central vision in my left eye for a while longer. I am sitting here in the dark, with the bright screen in front of me, which allows me to see the dark letters a little better. I might be sad if I didn't remember how lucky I am that there is finally some treatment, and that I can receive it, and hopefully will be able to continue doing everything I've grown accustomed to for a little while longer. I no longer can sit down with a book in my lap and read for hours, like I once did, but it's a small thing when I remember that I still can see so much, and that there are now audio books and large print, just for people like me.

Happiness cannot be traveled to, owned, earned, worn or consumed. Happiness is the spiritual experience of living every minute with love, grace, and gratitude. —Denis Waitley

Yesterday morning, I walked from the coffee shop to the harbor with my friend Steve, who willingly gives me his arm to cross streets and looks for traffic, both in the street and on the sidewalk, gently guiding me to safety, and often telling me that someone is coming long before I become aware of them. I truly appreciate our walks and will miss him when he heads to Hawaii at the end of the month to visit his mother. She celebrated reaching ninety last year, and she is still doing very well. He does visit a couple times every year, a good son. When my son Chris was alive, he would call me twice a year, on his birthday and on mine. For some reason, he has been on my mind lately and I realize that even after all these years (more than two decades), I still miss him. Maybe as you get older you begin to reminisce about all the loved ones that you will perhaps join on the other side. Who knows what comes after this life? I am not one to ponder the mystery very often, but if there is another dimension of reality, we will all find out one day. I realize that I am a believer in something after this, but I don't worry about it much. 

This morning, I am content. Although I had some waking moments last night, I got enough sleep to feel rested and ready for another beautiful sunny (and hot) day ahead. My sweetheart still sleeps next to me, and I have time this morning to read the blog posts you have posted since I last looked. I love my virtual family, and I am glad to have this time with you every week. I do hope the coming week will bring you happiness, and that we will be able to get together once again soon. Until then, I wish you all good things and that you will be well.