Monday, January 19, 2009

Mon, Jan 19, 2009: Monarch Lake Snowshoeing

I'm not sure how to get this out there without revealing some of the story behind it... at least, not telling the story behind it leaves me feeling like there is an important piece of writing missing from this post (actually, a paragraph's worth which I wrote in a previous post and then later removed. It now sits quietly in my Documents folder, contemplating the truth of its existence). So I'm just going to say it... I'm dating someone. Normally an admission like that wouldn't be met with such hesitation from me, but in this case it is... partly because when I have begun writing about other people I have dated since beginning my blog, it seems that we break up shortly after. I find this to be an interesting coincidence since none of these people even knew that I had a blog, much less would have read it while we were seeing each other. (Actually, one person knew that I had a blog but wasn't interested in reading it, a fact that I found somewhat offensive. I wanted to bonk him on the head with it. Don't you want to know me?!). I wonder if there is a similar force behind me writing that I am dating someone and things not working out with them. There you have it.

I mention all of this because I have another "we" story... as in, we went snowshoeing on Monday! We headed up to Monarch Lake equipped with enough layers to keep us warm in Alaska (which wouldn't be such a feat, actually - my sister recently said it was 40 in Alaska). The snow covering the road leading up to the lake was already packed and crunchy, and our snowshoes made a terrific racket as we clunked towards the water. We made a detour through some virgin snow to the edge of a little stream that lead away from the lake.

After our grueling half mile hike to the edge of the lake, we settled at a picnic table and ate our lunch, admiring the snowy field that was the reality of Monarch Lake.

After lunch, we took a terrifying journey across the lake towards several islands that we wanted to visit.

The trek was entirely uneventful, prompting me to thank whatever forces allowed us to cross without falling into the lake, and to fall backwards onto the unmarked snow of the first little island in the joy of creating a snow angel.

The lake and islands had some very interesting things to show us:

I am constantly overwhelmed by the intensity of the blue in the Colorado skies. In Connecticut, the winter skies are usually pale and washed out, but here the deep sapphire blue rings in my eyes just as proudly as if it were June or September.

We navigated back across the lake without incident (unless you count me toppling over multiple times into 2 feet of featherweight powder to be noteworthy), and returned to the car in the midst of elongating shadows as the sun sunk lower behind the curtain of mountains to our south. The drive home was made beautiful by the sharp snowy mountain peaks standing in contrast to the pinks, purples, and grays of the watercolor sky. I love driving around out here, but sometimes I love being driven around even more. :)

Sunday, January 4, 2009

Sun, Jan. 4, 2009: Curves and Sparkles

I have generally been one who avoided artistic creations of romantic love - visual arts, music, literature - because of a fear that I will never find a fulfilling romantic love in my life. Since my move to Colorado, and as a result of the changes that the move has spurred within me, it feels like this fear no longer holds any power over me. Instead of seeing romantic love as something that may not come to me, and feeling pain or sadness because of this, I have come to see it as something beautiful that is in people all around me. It is something that many people want to find and, therefore, a strong bond of likeness flows between any of us who have ever dreamed of it, hoped for it, experienced it, or worked to make it a reality. It seems to me that it's one of the best things about being human, not something to be avoided.

Today while in a restaurant, I saw an older couple sharing food and conversation in front of a large window, beyond which tiny snowflakes were lightly drifting down among the passing cars. Despite everything going on around them, their eyes found only each other. The lines on their faces transformed into the beautiful curves that circumnavigate smiles, created by their words and the image of the other in their eyes. To find that kind of pleasure and comfort in another person is beautiful, and it saddens me that I ever let something so beautiful make me afraid or hurt me.

This Saturday the 10th marks the 1.5 year anniversary of my move to Colorado. I think one of the biggest things that has come out of this move, in terms of my personal development, is my realization that I deserve to be cherished (as does everyone, but I was unable to see this as applicable to myself before the move). I want someone's lines to curve and eyes to sparkle because of me, and for the first time in my life I can clearly see that I deserve that (as we all do :) ).