Enjoy the Journey, or Sit in the Mud — a story

“From the deep of the woods rises a victorious song…”

Some will cherish the journey, others focus on the ending

Two hikers are walking in a forest at night. If that seems like a weird time of day to walk around in the woods that’s because, yeah, it is. The hikers aren’t there to make trouble, hunt, or even sing around the campfire. They are both there to see something they’ve never seen before. Something cruel and ugly, yet perfectly spectacular.

Stumbling around, Hiker A says, “It’s pitch black out here. How are we supposed to get to the Lake on time?”

Hiker Z, close behind, responds, “‘On-time?’ What do you think this is, our lunch break? Who cares what time it is. We’re in nature! I’m just worried about those wolves people say hunt on the trails.”

Hiker A’s not having it and nudges off the idea that any such creature might prowl these woods. So they continue their journey.

That trail turns out to be harder than the two had previously thought. Headlamps can only help so much, and everything beyond the reach of the light is a constant mystery; an impending threat.

“What’s that!” yells Hiker Z.

“It’s the Forest Monster!” says Hiker A with a wicked laugh. “Would you calm down? It’s just a dumb frog.”

“Oh my God. I thought I saw something else. It’s a good thing you’re here.” Hiker A can’t say the same. The two carry on, plowing through muddy floors and sifting past hanging vines. Roots trip one or both of them every couple of steps. Insects flood the air around them, clouding their vision in the spotlight of their lamps. It seems like a miserable time if you ask me.

“Really, how far is this Lake?” cries Hiker A. “The sun’s gonna be up any minute and we’ll miss the famous ‘Sight.’”

“I’ve heard good things about the Sight. What is it supposed to be exactly?”

CRASH

“Oh, no. That’s it, I’m outta here.”

“Come on. First with the frog, now with that little owl. Look.” Hiker A points a headlamp at the small bird perched over their heads. Its eyes beam like reflectors back at them. It’s quite cute, actually. “It can’t be more than a baby.”

Hoo-waa, hoo-waa

“I must be too much in the moment, you know?” admits Hiker Z.

“Maybe you need to focus on getting to the Lake and seeing the Sight like me. Then you wouldn’t care so much about every little thing that happens. Every little noise in the bushes.”

Hiker Z nods and they keep it moving. Once the sky has turned grey, inching closer to dawn, they reach a place that’s tight with undergrowth, way too dense to pass. Hiker A has a fit, as you could imagine.

“Now we’ll never make it to the Lake!”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure we can find a way through here,” says Hiker Z, trying to help. After searching around for some minutes, Hiker Z finds a small box with a red dot on it. “How strange.” After opening it, Hiker Z presses a button contained on the inside. Out of nowhere, the thick foliage around them starts to agitate. Leaves and branches shake, birds and ground animals stir. The hikers crouch in terror.

Hiker Z notices that the wall of plants is laced with a strange, almost unnatural pattern of flowers. An ominous floating light comes into view. Then another hovers to join it. As if by some deep forest magic, a group of fireflies swarms into the area. At first intimidated, Hiker Z notices something.

“Look, they’re going to the flowers. They were probably attracted to the pollen once they got shaken up.” The light produced on the butts of the flies makes it possible to make out a route around the thick undergrowth. Both are relieved.

“Thank goodness! Maybe we’ll make it to the Lake in time to see the Sight.”

“There you go about ‘time’ again.”

The end is near. Hiker A can feel it while rushing ahead, leaving Hiker Z in the dust. After running and crawling and breaking through twigs, the two finally arrive at the top of a hill with a perfect view of the Lake. There’s only one thing wrong.

“We made it! And with time to spare before sunrise.”

But Hiker A is not pleased, shivering in the cold of the early morning. “Is this it? Wha — What happened to the Lake?” They look out to see, well, what is not one lake anymore, but a seemingly endless stretch of smaller lakes and puddles.

“Aww, that’s awful. We must have come at the dry season — ” But without warning, Hiker A takes off down into the valley. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to reach the next lake. Then, once I get there, I’m off to see the next lake. Then the next one, and the next one, and — ”

Hiker Z is shocked, more surprised that Hiker A even feels like walking after such a long night of ups and downs. No, Hiker Z just sits there like a little fool on the side of the hill, seated over a kingdom of muddy pools.

The sun now peaks over the wavy horizon. As its rays beam in strands across the tops of trees, Hiker Z starts to feel their warmth. The insects clear out, making their way down to the murky waters. Birds fly and sing overhead, and butterflies make their morning runs across the fields. From the deep of the woods rises a victorious song of howls pouring through the teeth of wolves. The event is utterly breathtaking.

Better than anything else is when the sun’s rays fall down into the valley. They create a show of light and reflections that only a rare few can hope to see. Only those willing to sit, breathe the air, and enjoy the view. So enticed by the view, Hiker Z won’t realize until later just how special this particular moment is. It’s a moment of peace.

Hiker A stumbles around in the cold mud, going from one puddle to the next. Hiker Z squeezes the cool grass and takes in a deep breath.

***

I hope you can enjoy your journeys, stop, and take more breaths every now and then. It’s definitely something I should work on. Take care out there. Peace.

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