Yesterday we drove to the edge and walked to the edge and looked out beyond the edge to see what we could see. At the edge, in that quiet space of nowhere and solitude and cold and uncertainty, I thought I heard music. As I walked, in my too-big rubber boots and three layers of socks, I could hear the crunching of snow and frozen plants and the distinct sound of music traveling over the rocks to find me. It was as if there was a car in the parking lot, impossibly far away, blaring music from their stereo.
But there was no car, it was only us. And there was no music, only something bubbling up in my imagination as I pushed my body to the edge of what had previously been capable. I stopped, to allow the silence to permeate the air again. Standing completely still, facing the opposite direction of the wind and snow, I strained to hear the music, but there was nothing. Only us.
I spent time lingering back or rushing ahead so I could feel completely alone in the middle of the nowhere we had traveled so insistently to get to. I wanted to get to that place where my thoughts could roam free, unburdened by life, in all of it’s many forms. I knew once there, I would be able to uncover the stark beauty of existence and peer deep inside my soul to reveal my own true north.
In the end, I came to the edge of what I was looking for. It was more than I could have imagined.
There is much to say about the second day of our Nebraska adventure, but were already pressed for time to begin our third day and I need to get busy living it! I picture is worth a thousand words though, so I’m including one that reveals the contrast between expectation and reality.
Next Stop… Scotts Bluff and Chimney Rock,
Toadstool Geologic Park, operated by the National Forest Service unless it’s 32 degrees and snowing, in which case it’s operated solely by Mother Nature.