Where the sky begins and the mountain ends
That is where you can find me
Above the tree line floating softly in a cloud of thoughts
Songs of the aviators surround me
Life is so strong up here
And the great aerial ocean tastes fresher than ever
Sitting atop the world is an honor and a treasure
To inhale the truth that surrounds us in the woods refills the spirit
A tonic for the soul
How it invigorates my cells and axons and eyes
Watching shooting stars quickly rip the temporal
The sun rising over ridgelines curved to greet that great ball of hydrogen
The provider of life, how it warms my mind
Life is so strong up here
The serenade of the mountain stream rippling over rocks and logs and landscape
Where the sky begins and the mountain ends
That is where you can find yourself.

Break Time

My first season at Konnarock is halfway over. Its hard to believe but its been a blast and time is flying by. We get a two week midseason break which is sweet. I’ve seen so many beautiful sights and places and worked with so many sincere, genuine people, it really has been an honor to be involved with the Appalachian Trail Conservancy, an organization I became instantly smitten with upon digging in.

Hoping to get out on the water soon. But here are a few random pictures of recently.


A small baby bear seen in Roan Mountain. We hightailed it out since momma had to be close by.




First turtle sighting on the trail. Lots of species use the trail. Thousands of species traverse the great green swath that is our Appalachian Trail. Some as their home and some as a migratory route.




Morning light warming the trail.

Loving a Lilly

A beautiful water lilly opens up for the day.

Speaking of lillies, frogs come to mind. Here's the closest thing I have resembling a frog so far, seen at Comers Creek Falls along the AT.


photo by Ted Martello

Still Catching Up

Smooth Sinuousity



Stopping to smell the rhododendron on the AT




I'm still catching up on this thing, and not doing well. I may catch up one day though. We just got back from our first week at Matts Creek and it was quite a week. A lot of young hard workers amongst the blooming rhododendron. James River Face Wilderness is a beautiful place full of wildlife and color,. We got to watch a lightning show, a rainbow, sunrise and sunsets, and shooting stars passing across the celestial canopy as we laid out across the ground in amazement at the constellations, coordination, and stories of ancient times lay spaced across our optical opus.



The lunchspot and watering hole was gorgeous, blooms all over running up and down the slowly trickling stream. We installed a stream crossing to minimize erosion and sediment stir up from hikers. Lots of salamanders, crawfish, dragonflies, water striders, and many other creatures inhabit the ponds that skip down Matts Creek, starting as a spring higher up before emptying into the James River.



The view from basecamp with the clouds atop the river in the morning was awesome, something I've been wanting to see for quite some time. It was worth the wait, the thoughtless beauty that is the morning of a new day was extraordinary, making my soul smile.



It was a liberating experience for many of the volunteers as they momentarily escaped the concrete jungle and came into the woods to volunteer their time and energy. They loved it, felt free, felt more alive, worked hard, and slept well at the end of the day. For some they reconnected to nature, rekindling that lost bond, and it was very moving for those who felt it. We got a little closer to the source. It was nice to see that under the circumstances that it was one pretty tough hike in there and a tough hike in the worksite of switchbacks up and down the mountain with our water source presiding at the bottom and camp up top. But all went well, and it was a great start to 3 weeks of work at Matt's Creek.

"Whats the matter with you rock?"

I got to know rock this week. Rock is an interesting medium, so hard, so solid, so unforgiving. It stands strong, seemingly unmovable, until one picks at it from the right angle, dislodging that inert energy, turning the potential into the kinetic, the still into the movement. And with that push, with that breaking of the stillness, one can lose control in less than a second. From stationary to chaotic, from calm to forceful.

It is one thing to move, it is another to control. To harness that power, to control it, to make it beneficial for your purpose. It takes patience, wisdom, and skill, of which I have little, but they are all growing. Growing strong and solid, just as the rock.

We shape the rock, chipping away at the unnecessary and the jagged, removing the unwanted and molding it into a new form, a new purpose, a new existence.



The danger of this power is when to stop, for one extra chip can crack the entire foundation, losing all progress at the swipe of the hand. So easily one can get greedy, take risks, and push it too far. One simple pluck, one too many, and all is lost, leaving one having to restart from scratch, if, if you can find another subject suitable for the needs you require.

This fragility, this knowing when to stop, of walking the line, it is a good reminder to us of how to take caution in even our daily actions, for they too can cross the threshhold of sanity, rationality, and usefulness with one extra or modest step or move. It is that uncertainty, that question, of knowing when to quit, when to continue, that makes great men and women and makes crumbled lives lost by the lust for more. The insatible uncertainty we seemingly always want to challenge and push. The insatiable wanting for greener pastures and better moments. How do we tell ourselves this is it, this is great, this is enough?

How do we walk the knife edge with grace and the radiance of rarity. The difference between a masterpiece and another overcrowded picture lays in the hands of knowing when to stop. Between a great story and babbling. Genius and insanity. Beauty and fakeness. The sweet balance of self control continues to be a trying force testing even our best intentions and desires.

The difference between dreams and ghosts, longing and lust. The difference between thoughtless beauty and the silence in between. Listen to them both, for they both speak of wisdom, and they both speak of the hidden desires burning within you and me.

~

Who will stay warm and who will be burnt by these drifting dilemmas. To fathom the bridge between transcendence and transparency requires the perception of a kindred soul, covered in the raindrops of intuition. Wet yourself with chance and walk into the light, condensate with the clouds, shine with the sun, and flow with the stream of consciousness, and you will know the answer, for you are the answer, waiting, waiting to be unlocked, etched to perfection, and put into place for a better use, a better life, a bright new existence.

Sighing in the breeze is the spark of subtle possibility awaiting within us all, that small speck of light begging to turn into a blaring blaze, longing to change from the what if of potential to the undeniable force of what is, only awaiting oneself to recognize and become cogniscent of what has always been there.

Awaken the slumbering comet within, become the vapor trail that has yet to be, the tree that is the seed, the answer that is in need, for truth is indeed beauty and beauty is recognized and acknowledged chances.