As it has always been...

Two recent earthquakes shook the western slopes of the Rocky Mountains. On March 18th a 5.7 magnitude quake shook a town near Salt Lake. On March 31st, a 6.5 magnitude quake occurred north of Boise. The quakes were unrelated, but caused by the same actions that formed the Rocky Mountain range 80 million to 55 million years ago. The mountains continue to slowly grow, as they always have. It is a reassurance that the world continues to move in ways it always has.

The Idaho quake triggered an instant video conference with school chums from my hometown. We all had ‘working from home’ hair except for that one guy who dresses up for everything, and that one gal who is always put together. His coiffure lay in perfectly combed waves and he wore a sweater vest with a tie, her black hair smoothly framed her flawless skin as she sipped a glass of wine. The rest of us bore wild uncombed locks and sported concert t-shirts and sweatpants. It has always been this way with this group.

Mud season is not my favorite season, but I do love what it promises: long walks in an awakening spring. Plants unfurl their leaves to absorb sunlight, breathe in carbon dioxide and exhale oxygen, producing food and clean air. Afternoon mud puddles transform overnight into crystalline art forms, glistening in the morning sun. As the day warms, rivulets of melted ice trickle into the ditch along the road, rushing to meet the creek, which flows into the river in a rush towards the great ocean. Mary Oliver assured us, “It is the nature of stone to be satisfied. It is the nature of water to want to be somewhere else.” It has always been this way.

In the novel, The Overstory by Richard Powers, one of the characters describes walking through a Pacific Northwest forest tucked into the stony folds of the Cascade mountain range. She walks in a place where one of the native languages uses the same word for “footprint” and “understanding.” The Wenatchi dialect of Interior Pacific Northwest Salish uses the same phrase for “footprint” as “to comprehend and to understand.” In Latin, the phrase solvitur ambulando, translates as, “it is solved by walking.” Walking is good for both body and soul, as is understood in languages older than our own. It has always been a grounding reassurance to feel the earth under our feet.

I’ve been stuck on the song, “Alaska,” by Maggie Rogers. She sings about walking through icy streams and glacial plains. The chorus, “I walked off you, and I walked off an old me,” is a reminder that everything is temporary, and a walk is good medicine to clear the mind. It has always been this way.

While we are physically distanced, we can still make a connection with each other by listening and reading one another’s stories…as it has always been.