Jesse Gall

Fireflies Like Flashbulbs Part Two

In The Mountains, The South on June 14, 2011 at 2:55 pm

When last we left our four explorers, we were desperately searching for a good viewing spot. Rushing river on our  left and an intimidating forrest on our right, we plowed forward for what seemed like forever. It may have only been a few minutes of walking but as we all know I’m carrying heavy things. Distance is relative to the amount of stuff your totting. Duh.

Having been on the 6th trolley, five groups of viewers had arrived before us which left the best spots about a quarter a mile down the path, a fact I would later be thrilled about. Eventually, we found a clearing on the left, out of view of the path but overlooking the river. A perfect place for the blanket, chairs, and my exhausted legs. Never let it be said that fireflies don’t make you work for it.

After relaxing for a short minute, staring off into the reeds and rushing waters of the landscape, I decided to investigate the river a bit more. Leaving my shoes on the bank, I lowered my feet into the river and grabbed ahold of a protruding rock, crouching a bit comically like a frog. Slinking forward on all fours, never lifting more than one limb at a time, I crossed the currents and rapids, seeking the shallowest parts to hop through. After a Spiderman-like voyage, I found myself looking back across the river I just crossed, letting my thoughts wander in meditation.

Let me just say, that if you haven’t crossed a river recently, you should. There is something indescribable, a oneness that connects deeply and dances like a child with your spirit. There is so much force in the world, so much natural power, it becomes almost impossible to maintain any sense of ego. Yes, I crossed the river. But I did so with an understanding that in some way or another, the river let me cross. An undeniable amount of uncontrollable variables led to safe passage across that river. I began to see that truth in every journey and slowly felt an admission of smallness ripple through my mind.

The sun was beginning to set, red-wrapped flashlights clicked on, and as I looked across the river, through the gentle mist back to my resting shoes, I saw the faint flicker of the night’s first firefly.

To Be Continued

Until the end, the Mended Blend


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