Sunday morning, in the middle of our Memorial Day getaway in Glenwood Springs, CO, I was having trouble waking.
Groggy, foggy-headed, and heavy limbed, I climbed into the car to go to one of the most beautiful spots in the Rocky Mountains, Maroon Bells. Once parked, I lumbered out of the car, stumbled around the lake, and stared blinking at the iconic mountain, wishing I had access to a decent cup of coffee. Not even this view could move me.
We headed back to the car, and I chose to walk next to the stream. As I stood on the bank I spotted an island in the middle of the creek, with a path of step-able stones across the water.
As my foot found land on my tiny mountain island, everything changed.
Fatigue: done. Foggy brain: clear. Heaviness: lifted. Instead, an infusion of awe, the nourishment of beauty, and a grounded, profound energy seeping into my cells.
There's no place like home.