Climbing into Fall

I have written in this blog before about climbing to the summit of Big Bearpen mountain.  It has become a weekly event for me on Mondays, and since returning from our trip out West it has paid just as many dividends as the weekly long runs and the intervals.  Two weeks ago, upset about the sudden death of my father-in-law, I even ran it twice.  You can burn up a lot of stress running up therapeutic mountains like this one!

We cancelled our planned trip to Cades Cove this year, too, an annual outing which had been scheduled for Friday (Alan's birthday) and Saturday (Jane's birthday).  It was surely not the right time to leave and we could not have enjoyed it.  But Anthony, Sharon, Vicki, and Art all went and Anthony took this gorgeous photo, which made us want to return to this magical place next September, or perhaps even sooner.  As I was on the way down Big Bearpen this morning, I ran into Vicki on the way up, and stopped to ask her all about the weekend; eventually, I decided to run with her to the summit again.  And by the time I reached the top the second time, all of the lingering fog had disappeared and you could see far into South Carolina, and around the back side Whiteside Mountain stood out clearly against a blue sky.  Leaves had begun to turn a golden shade on some of the oak trees on the summit.

And so I felt that I was climbing the summit of another season this morning, leaving behind not only the hot and humid mornings, the thick curtains slanting through green trees, but also the heartbreak and the sad memories of the past.  I felt that I was climbing with renewed strength into new possibilities, a place where the bright colors and the distant vistas grow clearer once again.  Climbing into fall.