Pondering the passage of time

Mt. Shuksan in 2013

While searching around in my pictures for something else, I rediscovered this picture I took of Mt. Shuksan six years ago. I've been hiking with the Senior Trailblazers since 2008, and it was right around the time I took this that I changed over from using a regular camera to using my cellphone to capture all my pictures. This is one of the last ones I took with the camera.

I feel very fortunate that I can still make it into the High Country during the summer months, because it's not only very beautiful and soothing to my spirit, but I also have an incentive to keep myself fit enough to continue with this activity. And that's saying something: the inevitable passage of time means that several of my fellow hikers are no longer able to do it. One day, that will be me, but not today, not this year (I hope). I've gotten much slower going up steep terrain, but so far I haven't needed to turn around and retreat on any hike. There have been a few close calls, though, and it's been enough to make me think twice before heading into the wilderness this coming year on a sunny day with a difficult hike. There is always the option of heading out with the other group, which goes slower and doesn't push quite as hard. But I would miss my dear friends, so we'll see what the summer brings.

Everybody needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in, where nature may heal and give strength to body and soul. —John Muir

How is it possible that more than a decade has passed since I began the pursuit of spending every single Thursday learning about this area? If you think about how many weeks that would be, how many drives on old logging roads to get to trailheads, how many pairs of hiking boots worn out, well, it's a significant number. I didn't set out to accomplish more than one single hike. It's been a wonderful journey so far, and I don't know when it will end. But I do know that it will. That's what happens as we move through our days.

This winter has brought major changes to many of my friends. I learned recently that two of my favorite fellow gardeners in our community garden will no longer be planting. One has moved away, and the other is no longer capable of carrying out the bending and stooping that gardening inevitably requires. Another reminder that nothing is static in this world. It saddens me, but I will certainly not be giving up my own spot in the garden this year. I actually like the soreness that comes after a day out there preparing the soil to receive tasty vegetables. I look forward this year to enjoying tomatoes, kale, cucumbers, zucchini, onions, and maybe a bit of fennel and kohlrabi from my little plot.

One of the good things about keeping a blog is being able to look back and remember what my life was like five or ten years ago, to reminisce about my first years here in Bellingham and what I expected from our move into our retirement. It's been way more rewarding than I would have expected. Sometimes I think about all those years I spent skydiving, and how I believed that I would never want to stop, but time passes and things change. Now, it's difficult to understand how I ever managed to do hundreds of skydives every year for over a quarter of a century. That was then. It's not who I am today.

That lesson tells me that there will come a day when I will not be hiking every Thursday and spending time in the wilderness. And there will come a time when I will also give up my spot in the garden. Is it a good idea to consider what and who I will become in another decade? I'm not sure, but what I do know is that it's almost always a slow process, imperceptible change but change nevertheless.

I don't mind. One of the realities of growing old is realizing that as things change, our spirit becomes stronger as our bodies begin to fail. There is never one vantage point that stands out as the pinnacle of success, of accomplishment, of "having arrived." Wherever I stand in this wonderful world, the ground will shift under my feet and I'll be somewhere else before I know it. Looking at the magnificent scenery from atop a mountain peak is gratifying, but then one must turn around and begin the descent. And sometimes that descent is just as delicious, with the right mindset, anyway.

Well. It is now time for me to begin my descent into the day's activities, now that I've finished this post. Or almost finished it. I believe it will be another sunny day, with a stiff northeast wind, so I'll bundle up as I head to the coffee shop to see my friends there, to drink my favorite latte, and to share the conversation and concerns of my dear coffee-shop friends. Then I'll come home and putter around, maybe begin to think of what flowers I'll want to plant on my front porch this year, who knows? The day is new and fresh and hopefully will be bringing all of us something we can appreciate and delight in.

My partner is quietly sleeping next to me, my tea is gone, and it's time to get going. I'm always surprised at how I begin to get restless after sitting here and writing for awhile. I do hope that whatever you decide to do with your precious day, it will bring you to the end of it with some satisfaction. I'll be doing just that myself! Be well until we meet again next week.