I have been searching for inspiration or rather I have been lacking it. I can always tell when inspiration is fading in my life. Things become messy around me, my desk, my house, my kids' rooms and I don't care as much as usual. My teaching seems less inspired, boring quite frankly. And in those times I often don't search for the reasons why. But lately, I've been searching for inspiration. It came in a simple weekend trip to a place we have been many times before, Smith Rock.
My boys and I wandered out to Smith Rock to take a lazy, short hike. We always begin at the bivouac center in order to play on the climbing wall. Our family game is to each pick a section of wall, conquer it and then challenge the other two to conquer it as well. For each climb you gain a point. You cannot touch the ground after you have first lifted your last foot. We are competitive but we help each other. "Move your foot up a little to the right. I think the grip is just over to the left." We inspire each other to be our best at climbing. By starting at the climbing wall we all have energy for the hike ahead.
We headed down the trail and enjoyed some chit chat. We decided we would head to Asterisk Pass, a familiar spot with a magnificent view. When we headed down to the bridge my boys both made a last minute decision to go up Misery Ridge and of course I said yes.
At the beginning of the trail I gazed upward, staring at the rocks, took a deep breath and felt inspired. I love those rocks. Their colors always amaze me. Depending on how cloudy or sunny, what time of day and what side you are on they vary from butter yellow to burnt red. The carefully carved out caves give places for hiding and cooling off. They make a great perch if you are a good enough climber. Each rock is perfectly sculpted.
The view from the top down is one that gives me my Mom legs, as I call them. Whenever my kids do something dangerous I get a tingly feeling in my legs that almost makes me feel as if I am going to collapse. As we gazed just over the edge of each cliff I felt that old familiar panic of what if, but it didn't stop me. We looked down at the rocks which we had noticed from below. Below they look straight and formidable. From the top you see all the curves, carved by rain, snow and wind. One like flowing ribbons another sharp as a knife blade. The canyons are clear from above as well. Dangerous areas where if one foot lost its position a person would easily tumble to their death. From up high I gazed out at the snow-covered mountains; Jefferson, Three-Fingered Jack, Mt. Washington, Mt. Bachelor and the Three Sisters. Their white shapes loomed in the distance breaking the view of all things more West. The valley below with the winding Crooked River, farms, ponds, grasslands and trees laid out in a no particular pattern looked peaceful and serene.
We walked over to look at Monkey Face. Climbing down ever closer so that we could almost reach out and touch it. I sat perched on the very edge with my legs tucked beneath me. I looked around in all directions at this creation. Man tries to make things that are beautiful but no artist can create the mural laid out before my eyes at Smith Rock. I've tried to capture it with my camera but no picture does it justice. The grasses in the river below wave gently in the wind. Pigeons who have been scared out of their roost float by effortlessly. The sun moves and as it does, the colors on the rocks change, shadows appear creating more danger. John Muir would have called that the "range of light". Light changes the painting that is Smith Rock, perhaps that is why no painting or photograph can do it justice. I take each picture home with me in my mind and save it and use it to bring peace, serenity and inspiration to my life.
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