I was laying in bed this morning clearing my mind with meditation, a very difficult thing for me to do. Just to be for a few moments before my day's activities begin.
As I closed my eyes my mind began meandering back to my far past. Back to my childhood. I heard my mother reading to me from a book something about fluffy white clouds blowing past under a blue sky. I didn't concentrate so much on the content of what she was reading as the sound and quality of her voice. Something very soothing, rhythmic about her voice back then. I must have only been 3 or 4 years old.
I'm not at all sure why that particular memory cane to me this morning but I've been hanging on it all this morning. As I recall mom read to us quite a bit, usually at night before bedtime.
Thanks mom for such a bright memory. Maybe that's why I love to read so much?
On my agenda for next week is to pick a good location for my winter campsite up on York Gulch. So, this Sunday, Lord willing, I'll pack my big backpack with my machete, saws, etc and hike along Stanley Rd cross Clear Creek where it narrows then follow Fall River for a bit over a mile to where it joins York Gulch Rd. Then it's a very difficult steep grade up to Joe's timber at about 9200 feet.
I want to find a copse of ponderosa pine trees and build my shelter within. The trees hopefully will give me at least some protection from the hundred plus mile an hour winds York Gulch is notorious for.
I would like to use small 3-4 inch pines for the walls and roof. Then I plan on constructing an outer wall system and fill the space between the two walls with pine boughs and aspen leaves for use as insulation.
2 raised beds inside the hut will be for sleeping. Small pine trunks will form the frame with smaller cross pieces of aspen saplings covered with soft spruce or pine boughs for warmth. With my 2 sleeping bags and a blanket maybe just maybe I won't actually freeze to death over night! Ha-ha.
I've decided to build a small fire ring in the middle of the hut to help stave off the coldest nights. But, I won't be building a white man's fire but rather an Arapaho fire meaning a small warm fire. I can use it in the morning to brew tea and cook oatmeal if I want.
The second bed will be for visitors from town like Mike Ellington who loves to camp or Pastor Bill, if I can persuade him to leave the comfort of his very comfey home. I know Joe will be wanting to visit from time to time.
I feel a little lost now that the Melodrama is no more. I'll miss my fellow cast members a lot. It was great discipline memorizing my lines for Bob Faithful. I was the hero of the story. And, its been a lot of fun for the last year and half rewriting my own life's story.
Shakespeare said all the world is a stage. And, we are all actors. We can choose to be the hero in our own myth... our own legend.
That's what I'm hard at work doing...rewriting my own story...one for the ages. Yeah!
BR Schoenbein
October 27, 2015-Tuesday
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