Meeting God on the Path

Twenty-five cents buys a handful of chicken feed and minutes of joy for the feathered residents of the Clear Creek History Park.  Each chicken looks unique, and I enjoy  resting my bones while watching them live in their historically accurate chicken enclosure.  I'm fascinated by how different each chicken is - especially the ones that look like they are either wearing fancy feathered hats (or sat under the blow dryer too long).  None of them look particularly robust - perhaps that adds to the historical accuracy.

The chickens are one of the last stops on my morning walk along Clear Creek - a walk that has varied little over the decades.  After breakfast I leave the hotel, walking down Washington Avenue until I cross Clear Creek.  I then slowly walked down the path, being greeted by dog walkers, power walkers, Moms jogging while pushing strollers, college students walking to class, and bicyclists on their way to the bike trails.  People almost always make eye contact, smile and speak (unlike where I was for study leave - Pittsburgh -  where everyone looks the other way).  There are just enough benches strategically placed along Clear Creek to make my morning walk pleasurable.  I have favorite places to pause and elevate my knee, whilst gazing at the water and mountains.  Each bench allows for a slightly different view - sometimes it is water plus Lookout Mountain, other times it is water plus North or South Table Mesa.  Occasionally I get Castle Rock in the view (I avoid looking at the Coors plant).  Always I see trees and water. And leaves - cottonwood leaves - littering the ground like a golden carpet.  Autumn is here.

I love these benches - they give me a place to rest and reflect before starting on the next push to the next bench.  When I get up to Rocky on Saturday and head out on my very favorite trail, there will be no benches waiting for me on that journey.  Instead, there are rocks and logs in all the right places, which should provide enough rest to get me all the way to the First Meadow on the East Inlet Trail, and right to my precious "thoughtful spot" - my most sacred prayer space.

I also pray whilst resting on the benches along Clear Creek - I breathe with the water, mountains and falling leaves.  And I'm not alone in praying along this Creek, as each morning I see an (easily) 90+ year old physically frail saint who slowly shuffles along the path - looking like she or he lives in that liminal space between this world and the next.  Slowly she or he walks, rosary in hand, soaking in every moment - pausing to watch the golden squirrel, or a leaf falling from a tree - or the smile on a child's face.  This person takes it all in - every second - and offers back prayer and appreciation.  God walking along Clear Creek, savoring creation.

I almost didn't come away for vacation - I was scheduled to go home to Scotland during this time, but circumstances made that trip all but impossible.  In the end, I decided to come to this home for a little while, and rest and re-set.  Today while walking along Clear Creek, I realized that vacations are a bit like the benches along this path - they provide a place to rest and recollect, so that you can push on through the next hard stretch of the journey.

I make the most of those rest breaks along Clear Creek - soaking in the beauty, resting the knee, appreciating God's presence.  May I do the same with this vacation time.

Letting Creation nourish me,
Kim