Tag: Simone Lipscomb
In Clouds

In Clouds

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High elevation hiking to beat the heat gave the perfect Smoky Mountain experience early this morning. Thick clouds blanketed the mountains. White mist blew across the road as I drove to the trailhead. 

It felt strange to start a hike going downhill, but to get to Andrews Bald, that’s how it goes. It stands at 5860 feet and the trail head is at 6350 feet.  The cloud base was far below that elevation. And it was magnificent.

Wet rocks, lush ferns, water hugging my face as the clouds blew across the trail…perfect. Bird song so sweet my smile never faded. The forest feels close, so close, at these higher altitudes. Trails are carved from rocks and meander between fraser fir and red spruce trees. The smell of the firs intoxicates me every time I’m with them. It’s as if that fragrance calms me, steadies me.

When the trail isn’t cluttered with hyper, human energy and chatter, I’m able to connect deeper with my friends–rocks, ferns, trees, birds, flowers–and hear their voice so much clearer. The same can be said when I am able to stop my internal chatter. 

Clouds act as my guide to inner stillness, inner quiet. They open me to experience the forest from their perspective: moist blankets that wrap everything in their beauty.

The flame azaleas were a sharp contrast to the grays and whites of the clouds.

After enjoying the colorful, fiery beauty of the azaleas, I hiked the Bypass Trail up to the top of Clingman’s Dome and enjoyed being above the forest in the clouds.

I feel at peace, joyful, and grateful to connect deeply with the spirits of the forest. Go outside…find your inner quiet and listen to the wonders of Nature.
Up

Up

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Last Saturday I hiked a trail I’ve avoided because it’s always so crowded. I’m rather averse to crowds in Nature. My quest is solitude in Nature.

But starting before sunrise assured a parking space. Which meant getting up at 3.45 am. And leaving my home at 4.45am. I thought I had lost what’s left of my sanity….all to go hike a crowded trail.

It ended up being my favorite trail, favorite hike, favorite views…even with lots of people sharing the trail that day. And the national park has improved it so much by eliminating most all of the haphazard and dangerous illegal parking. That not only creates a safer environment for drivers and hikers along the road, it creates fewer people on the trail.

It was so good….so beautiful…so intense that I’m thinking of doing it again this Saturday. I got my 100 year anniversary shirt so no need to stand in line at the lodge store. Just hike and breathe and celebrate the wonder and beauty of this spectacular trail. And do it again….and again…and again.

Up in elevation 2612 feet. Down 2503. 10.82 miles. 23,652 steps.

I think I’m going up again….really soon.
The Elk

The Elk

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The headlights illuminated a doe, heavy with her unborn baby; her white tail a flag as she bounded into the woods from the driveway. So alive, so vital.

At nearly that exact moment, ten miles away, the beautiful elk mother, heavy with her unborn baby, was struck by a car.

As I drove into the national park, the thick, red slick on the road lead to her crumpled body.

I stopped and rolled down the window to say words, to say thank you…for your beauty, your life.

White ribs stood out against the deep, red gash…that image is burned into my mind…and her head, looking back over her shoulder at an odd angle.

The bulge in her belly, now still as the mother–both traveling the spirit world. Free of pain and suffering, leaving us behind to mourn more loss of beauty, of wildness.

Our tears mix with her blood. Together they flow into the river.

Threshold of Something New

Threshold of Something New

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I feel change coming. Big change. I feel the old ideas and ways fading, dissolving and something new coming; however, I don’t know what ideas will grow from seeds planted long ago.

Being in a the threshold of change is challenging. The threshold is a place of transition where we leave one place and enter a new one. It can be uncomfortable, scary even. Sometimes, it’s a quick occurrence; however, I tend to sense things coming long before they arrive, so the threshold can seem like a very long tunnel leading to some unknown place.

In the past, I’d expend a lot of energy trying to figure out what the ‘new’ was going to be. Often, when I sensed this kind of change, I’d rush ahead and try to begin building something new before the old had finished its death dirge. That only created more stress and rushed something that wasn’t ready to be birthed.

So lately, I am acknowledging the sensed changes and simply allowing them to have a full and complete, un-rushed passage of decrease, of release. I’m not trying to figure out the next step. I’m simply letting go and remaining open to the Path opening before me as I rededicate myself to serving Earth Mama. 

In this place of letting go….in the stillness, in the waiting…I feel total trust.

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As I was uploading photographs and finishing this essay, I decided to pick up my book, Book of Nature, and ask for wisdom to be shared. I randomly opened to this page… “Release….Step from the perceived safety you know into the vast Unknown. Shed layers of fear and doubt. There is something beyond the physical existence of flesh and bone. You already know the Mystery; it is within you, encoded into every cell.” And this photograph was paired with those words….
Sisterhood of Lady Slippers in the Cathedral of Light

Sisterhood of Lady Slippers in the Cathedral of Light

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Do I kneel in the mud and allow tears of joy to merge with raindrops on the tender petals of the lady slipper? 

Do I sing hymns of praise for wildflowers?

The thought arises to place my hands in the cool mud and paint my face in solidarity with Earth and all growing things.

Maybe I should photograph her ladyship, to show the voluptuous curves of her pink belly.

Perhaps I can create a song to sing to my granddaughter to tell of all the flowers in the woodland.

How do I endure beauty so overwhelming? I feel I’m about to erupt from my skin, like an explosion of light from a star? 

Sing? 

Weep?

Shout with joy?

Dance…no, no dancing because I am surrounded by tender beauties that must be protected so I must be still.

It is difficult to know what to do in the presence of profound beauty. How can I take it in? Dare I even attempt it?

How can I receive the beauty, the unexpected beauty, that simply shows up? The surprise of beauty. How do I take that in?

I want to do something to express the awe I feel, when all I really need to do is be there, be present. Be open. Breathe in. 

A couple years ago I had a very clear message from Nature as I was walking in the woods. The message was, When Nature gives me a gift, I have to learn to receive it. My first reaction is often to capture it with photography. It’s harder for us to fully receive the gift of that beauty when we interrupt the receptive moment of awe to ‘do’ something other than be in the present moment breathing. We can simply pause and breathe with the flower or tree, the river or hawk, and let go of words, drop deeper into stillness with the beauty. The frustration can then fade as we open even more fully to receiving.

Breathing in…thank you, I see you, I feel you. Breathing out….this is me, here’s my open heart. This is who I am. This is me. Breathing in, I take in the beauty, the essence of the flower; breathing out, I have the courage to show the flower who I am. This is my heart. This is me. You and I are one. Absolutely, we are one. 

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An expanse of lady slippers was unveiled due to a blown-down where trees obliterated the trail and a detour was necessary. In wandering around the massive pile of trees and attempting to find our way forward, we discovered a secret wooded area of lady slippers. We would never have seen these precious flowers had we not had to find an alternate path. It felt as if we were invited into a secret initiation of the Sisterhood of Lady Slippers in a Cathedral of Light. And we said….Oh! YES! And THANK YOU!