Country roads take me home, to the place I belong

Today’s weather forecast called for clear skies, gentle breezes and temperatures in the low seventies. It seemed impossible after the soggy and often snowy weather we’ve endured in Dayton, Ohio this spring, but I believed with a faith born of desperation that the weatherman knew with a certainty what he was talking about.

I woke early in the morning and worked to get my household chores finished as quickly as possible. By eleven o clock the beds were made, the dishes were done and drying in the sink and the sweeper had been run through the downstairs living quarters. The digital camera and tripod I’d received for Christmas were packed into my rucksack and waiting on the table by the front door. I was bound and determined to get out and capture the woodland wilds of my community just as the Wizened Wizard has always shared the natural beauty of her own private reserve with the rest of us.

By eleven-thirty I was on the road and headed towards one of my favorite parks in the entire state of Ohio; Glen Helen. Whenever my soul is in need of revival this is the place that always seems to provide me succor and solace. It is about a thirty minute drive through beautiful farmland and when you drive as I did today with the windows down you can smell the good earth and it is a heady perfume to the soul.

Blue skies and country roads.

The last few months have been rough on the Bauman household. Pregnancy has not been kind to my wife, Felicia and I have not enjoyed watching her go through so many days of pain. When her normally gregarious countenance has not been hidden behind a mask of stoic endurance it has been covered in tears of suffering. Mentally I feel like the marathon runner in the last few miles of the race. There is nothing left in the tank and the only thought remaining in my mind is surviving the ordeal until the finish line.

By the time I pulled into the gravel parking lot of the Glen Helen Reserve I was beginning to feel a state of relaxation I’d not felt in far too many months. I was ready to begin my photographic safari and capture the perfect photo of spring flowers. This was going to be the perfect day.

It wasn’t long before the realization dawned upon me that the woods were still sleeping. Aside from a little moss upon the occasional moist rock or fallen tree the forest was still blanketed in a uniform brown of slumber.

The only flora I saw all day.

Still, the day was beautiful and it felt good to be out in the woods with the sun shining down upon my face and the smell of spring filling my nostrils. As I continued my walk I could feel the stress melting away from my heart and spirit. I felt like something was trying to communicate with me. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it but it was as if something was whispering in my ear.

There wasn’t another living soul in the woods or so I thought. The only footsteps I heard were my own as I walked along the path of my own spirit quest. When I came upon the bridge I knew that it was something for me to cross alone. Somewhere on the other side understanding waited for me.

The bridge.

The whispering continued and even though I still couldn’t put a name to its source I listened attentively. Now I walked with a purpose. There was something I needed to learn this day. It was then the rock spoke to me. It told me there is a path to a better place through the burdens that sit upon my mind like the weight of the world.

The weight of the world.

The tension in my shoulders began to melt away and I followed the path through the rock. Somehow I knew things were going to be alright and that events were proceeding according to a plan beyond my understanding. My spirit was refreshed and renewed. When I walked around the bend in the path I came face to face with the source of the voice who’d been speaking to me the whole day.

The living waters.

It was the sound of the water that had been whispering to me during my journey through the woods. It was the one thing I could not capture with my camera; the sound of the healing waters washing across the landscape of my soul just as they brought nourishment to the land around me. It was not the image I’d set out to capture, but it was a moment I was glad to have experienced live and in person. I surrendered my worries to the living waters and felt as if I’d placed them into far more competent hands than my own.

Still there was one more truth the day had to share with me. When I came to my journey’s end it was the stone steps that spoke the final words to my spirit and sent me home with a smile upon my face and a song in my heart. The steps told me no matter how daunting the path up the mountain appears there is always one perfect thing waiting for me at the summit.

The hard climb.

It has been too long since I’ve seen you smile without the grimace of pain attached to it. The tears you have shed have been like nails pounded into the fabric of my heart. Watching you suffer through these past few months has been the most difficult task I’ve ever had to endure. Yes, the path to the mountain top has been arduous and difficult at times but the son waiting to join our family will be worth every moment of suffering. I am so grateful for the joy you are about to bring into our lives. You are the most perfect thing I’ve ever known in my life. Thank you and hang in there, angel, the end is in sight.

The one perfect thing.

Afterword:

I apologize for having been away for so long. It has been difficult for me to feel creative during a time when my wife has been going through the travails she has endured to have this baby. Today was a break I desperately needed. Unfortunately, Felicia still has seven weeks to go before she gets a respite. You women are a tough lot. How do you do it?