Journal 8

During fall break, I had the opportunity to go hiking in Denver, Colorado. When I reached the top of the peak, I took thirty minutes to sit in absolute silence. I perched my back against a large boulder and laid my head back so my face was covered by sunlight. I didn’t hear any sounds. I didn’t see any animals besides an occasional black bird. However, I did see a beetle crawling on the same rock that I laid upon. I moved my finger to interrupt the path this beetle was taking, and he/she would briskly change direction. I did this over and over. The beetle would not climb on my finger. There is a separation between humans and insects. The gap between man and animal is often bridged when I think of pets like dogs and cats, but there is something peculiar about insects that frightens or grosses most humans out. Furthermore, insects don’t seem to want much to do with us either unless you are a lurking mosquito hunting for blood.
As I continued to stare as far as the eye could see, I looked out into grass that appeared to be dried out. There wasn’t lush green color with rich vegetation; I saw fields of yellow grass with withering plants. Prior to my visit, there had been a snowstorm so much of the flora had started to die. The rock was not the most comfortable place I had ever sat, but the sun shining and warming my body felt amazing. I didn’t think about much in that moment, I enjoyed just being. The air felt brisk and fresh. Each time I took a deep breath I felt like I was cleansing my lungs. My body appreciated being away from all of the pollution. The term fresh air actually felt fresh for once.
My hike down the mountain was less strenuous than my hike up. I had a surprise encounter as I climbed down. Off to my right, a snake about four feet long slithered in and out of the weeds around a nearby bush. My reaction was not to move toward the snake. Again, the snake didn’t really want to associate with me and I didn’t really want to associate with it. I liked being able to see this reptile in its natural environment rather than interacting with it through a glass window at the zoo. The reaction of the group I was with was pretty unanimous; none of the girls wanted to be near the snake. Although my interaction was fairly quick, I did get a solid look at the snake. I could see blackish-brown skin. He had two little beady eyes and a tongue that couldn’t stay in his mouth.

The memories I made in nature in Colorado were wonderful. Not only did I get to hike, but also I got to see what a real fall looks like with leaves that gleam in every color of red, orange, and yellow imaginable. The opportunity to experience nature is one of the biggest selling points for this state, and I can understand why.

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