The Hills are Alive with the Sound of Longing

Watercoloring at Deerfield Hills,

June 01, 2019 my birthday and National Trail Day:

In the morning, I wake in darkness. All night, I lay giddy as a child on Christmas Eve. Excitement as I have not known in years. Four hours of sleep and I am leaping up for a sunrise hike at Deerfield Hills. For a moment, I’m discouraged by overcast skies. I slow my morning, wasting time. But the lure of watercoloring my favorite place on my birthday draws me out. As I drive down country roads, I hope for the brilliant colors the clouds may yet turn.

Sure enough the clouds become trimmed with peach as the sky grows clearer. I push along trail 4 with its close quarters and hard hills. I’ve missed the actual rising of the sun, but what a feeling to be on trail so early! Now I understand why my dad has been telling me to get up and hike before 9am. I can’t wait till the Appalachian Trail, rising each morning, especially in the summer to beat the heat.

As I near the lookout, my heart sinks thinking I’ve missed the most of the colors. To my surprise, I see an orange ball of fury peeping through the tall pines on the horizon. I quickly set up my watercolors and attempt to capture the dawn. I’ve never seen this bend of the river so vibrant! The sun is in front of me along the water instead of behind me and the trees. All around the sun’s orange rim are the pink clouds of morning dreams.