I am the tree

As I ride my bike on the
Blue Ridge Parkway
comfort and peace
embrace me

This isn't new
this cradling
I've felt it before
multiple times

But this time
I'm cycling the Parkway
something I've done
only one other time

Must have been 2015
I had hopes I was improving
and I was
but then it plateaued
symptoms spread
and my body said
That's all I've got

Until now
this last day of July, 2020
me, here, again
cycling this tiny sliver
of the BRP

Dreaming of one day
being well enough maybe
to bike-pack
the whole grueling, joyful
four-hundred plus miles
camping along the way
meeting others who thrive
in this love
of the journey
a love for which words are
inadequate
sharing the night sky
the sunshine
the wind
the rain
sunsets, sunrises

And maybe
it's only a dream
and that's okay

As I pedal
tears of joy
grace my cheeks

Awe
Gratitude
Perfect harmony

I whisper aloud to the trees

I love you

And they whisper back to me
the same

Gosh, people would think I'm crazy
That I feel you talking to me
But John Muir would understand
He listened to the plants

Together
the trees and I
chuckle

And the wild flowers
and beautiful weeds
and grasses swaying in
the breeze

All
a part of me
Me
a part of them

I am a weed
I am the grasses
I am a flower
I am the tree

Field of wonders

View from Groundhog Mtn., Buffalo in the distance

Looking north, somewhere between Groundhog & Mayberry Ck.

Looking south, somewhere between Groundhog & Mayberry Ck.