The Gentle Water

A few years ago, before I headed out on my adventure around Croatia, I spent a morning wandering around Geneva. It was early, and the city had yet to wake up. I drove a few miles over to Lac Léman, a large lake that dominates the surrounding landscape. Street lights were starting to flutter off while the hum of the city steadily rose. I walked along a pier, listening as the waves lapped steadily against concrete below me. Across the lake on the opposite side stood a small lighthouse. A couple fishermen stood beside it, casting their lines out into the gentle water. It was so quiet, occasionally, conversation would float over on the wind. I didn’t understand them, but It gave me an interesting perspective on their early morning adventure.

As I stood there, enjoying myself, I noticed a sailboat silently sliding through the water, gliding in between us, heading out toward the center of the lake. I closed my eyes, picturing what their view would be. Looking both ways, a lighthouse with a few fishermen on one side, and on the other, a lone figure, enjoying a quiet morning, standing on the end of a pier in the middle of a waking city.

The Quiet Calm

Denali National Park, Alaska - Mountains stand, jutting straight up from the valley floor. And while the quiet calm washes over those willing to accept the challenge, filling the human spirit with determination and hope, they continue their stand, ready and willing to break anyone that isn’t up for the task.

The Country

Days pass by, driving North around the fjords, through tunnels, over mountains – always driving, searching. Churches and cemeteries dot the countryside next to abandoned farmhouses, whose only inhabitants scurry about looking for food and shelter from the incessant storms that batter the well-weathered walls.

In the small towns that litter the countryside, church steeples rise up, stretching toward the sky. Every Sunday, town people fill the pews, solemnly giving thanks for the lives that are their own. One-by-one they file outside, walking past the old cemeteries filled with small wooden crosses. The grass is long and unkempt, still brown from the winter, but on the verge of change.

The earth rotates and warms the air. Iceland is waking up from its winter slumber.

Driving by country houses, mothers hang clothes in the yard while keeping an ever-watchful eye on their children who wrestle around close by. Animals, with their thick winter coats, plod through fields grazing on the spring foliage, perfectly content to lie about in the sun.

Endless expanses of color stretch out toward the horizon: Rich green valleys, carved smooth by receding glaciers follow crystal clear meandering rivers and streams. Rugged mountains, torn apart by years of volcanic abuse, shoot up from the ancient flood plains. Clouds race across the sky as shadows roll over the earth.

Sounds of nature are soon mixed with sounds of man. Tractors yawn and roll out of the barns. They lumber over the fields, tilling the earth, cracking the surface, allowing it to breathe. The farmers who toil under the sun day in and day out share a connection with the land. They’re in touch with every living thing, waiting, patiently listening, watching for signs that tell them it is time to start the process. From creation until death, all of Iceland belongs to the earth.

The World Rushes By

Chendu, China- When life starts getting chaotic and it feels like it's spiraling out of control, I always like to take an evening walk.  At night, everything seems a little more subdued.  The lighting, the people, the energy.  Even when I was traveling through China, I could still take some time to relax and gather my thoughts.  While I was on one of my walks, I noticed a bike taxi driver waiting for his next fare.  I'm not sure what he was thinking, if he was relaxing, or just bored, but I found it interesting that he could stand out so well while the rest of the city rushed around him.  He was a rock in the middle of a raging river. Over the last couple years, he has become my rock.  A realization that sometimes it's best to stop and take a look around you, even as the world rushes by.

Wandering Among Giants

Rainbow, California - Wandering among giants amidst a colorful sunset, Abbey Smith and Buck (Strong Man) Bronson find a nice tall boulder problem to finish the day on. Not too easy, not too hard, but high enough to get scared. Pulling for the top, A squeal emerges as a blown foot sends Abbey plummeting toward the earth. Minutes later, she is back on the rock, determined to put up more of a fight. After a moment of hesitation, she pulls the final move to the lip, topping out easily. Standing above the landscape, she pauses momentarily to enjoy the surroundings before scrambling back down in search of another problem.