in aspen, colorado, it is one of our favorite trails…alongside the ridgeline, through the aspen forest, ducking under fragrant pine, climbing. the vistas are stunning, the scent is rejuvenating, the air fresh and cool.

this time there was snow on the trail. the combination of the warm sun and the snow beneath our feet was exquisite. new trekking poles in hand, we were in our glory.

if you don’t take the bridge over the more swollen section of the stream and climb higher, than you can take a divergent path and step rock to rock upstream to an old log that lays there just waiting for people to sit on it. we have sat on that very log every single time we have hiked this trail.

there is something magical about that spot. right in the middle of the stream, mountains behind us, dappled sun on our faces. it is as if every single thing becomes clear. we sit in that very space and all the life-whirling stops, the dots connect, the primary is primary. love.

we dropped our hands into the cold mountain stream, water running swiftly over them and on to the rocks below us.

we talked. we were silent. we touched cold fingertips to cold fingertips.

it is the sweet phase.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

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