Bound for this first ever time with nature only
For three nights
And four days
We would walk
Bound for my first ever backcountry journey
To the High Sierra
The magical Sierra
Only ever having seen her from below
The wind was not far from perfect
The sun was kind
The water ran gently
Deer, coyote, grouse, and beaver
To say hello.
How beautiful must this be under the snow!
We would daydream every day,
Not undermining the current beauty of the place
Not wishing we would’ve come another time
But still longing to return already.
How beautiful must this be under the snow?
We walked and talked
To each other
To the trees
Every new view a sight of wonder
Every wild fruit a mystery
Every mountain a sculpture
We couldn’t help but already dream of the future
When we would be here again
Before the same views
Painted with the palette of the wintertime.
The sky began to overflow with clouds,
The clouds soon turned dark and grey,
The wind grew sharp and cold,
With haste we cooked and set up camp.
The rain was coming,
We tucked ourselves in
The first drops began to fall,
Turning heavier every moment
Soon enough becoming ice.
The echo was loud,
But it helped us sleep,
Only hoping in the morning
The perfect wind, the perfect sun,
Would come back to guide our final walk.
The morning entered.
To our surprise, the friendly wind returned
The sun came back
And there also, a shadow
Cast over our tent.