Note to self
Today, I woke and made bad coffee. So then I made another pot.
I went to the San Pedro Riparian Habitat and missed the turn, but a guy working on a street project said to go back and to the east and then look for the cottonwoods. East? Thankfully that was indicated on the GPS. Cottonwoods – I know and they were lovely to behold as they came into view – stretching north and south.
As I walked along the riverbank and marveled at the colors of gold, sage, and brown and looked for the elusive Green Kingfisher, I happened upon a fellow hiker. An older woman (maybe my age – because hey, it is what it is), and she asked me if I saw the pond. I said I passed by it but didn’t see any water. She said, “Well I know more than you do, so I’m going back that way.”
la di da
She might have ruffled a different me but instead her desire to find that kingfisher too made me look up in the trees for it, and instead I saw giant nests with cormorants and wished I could see the chicks I heard squawking. I also walked more mindfully, thinking about how I want to be present, I want to understand my needs, I want to open up to the possibility I have a nervous system that is hardwired for chaos and disappointment, and that neither are happening right now.
I breathed in the dry air and looked in the distance at the Huachuca Mountains, which look like cardboard cutouts. I did a complete turn around and still could not find the pond, but the river was flowing a little stronger and the view through the cottonwoods was magical. I want to hold these moments where I feel grounded, centered, full of the breath of life.
On my way out of the trail, I saw the older woman sitting on a bench. I noticed the layers of clothing she was wearing – a jacket around the waist, another long sleeved shirt on a tee shirt, hat and water bottle and fanny pack and I felt lighter just whistling as I cruised by her.