Monday, October 8, 2018

September 22—Silver Creek.  Autumn is a time of harvest, and of gathering together, it is a time of sowing and of scattering; a time of the crunch and rustle of leaves with each step you made and of hushed, crisp air, and it is also a time for the gypsies to head out one (or perhaps two) more time before the coming of winter, to be with nature and the glories surrounding this precious world. 
Thus, this time, we went faraway and high away, in beautiful Peace Valley at an elevation of 4,490 feet.  It was frightening to look to your side of the unpaved winding road and find yourself within merely inches from such a huge plunge down a ravine of steep mountains and a forest so densely forested with conifers that it almost seemed bottomless.  
And what a beautiful campground that was when we got there!  Situated among a mixed-growth lodgepole pine forest and a dense vegetation in shades of orange, as gorgeous autumn tossed its rainbow-tints of beauty everywhere.

We set up camp and got ready to prepare dinner, for we were famished with hunger after our long trip and perilous journey.

Then we got on our bikes and when for a ride around both campgrounds.  At the hot springs resort we went to the general store and got some ice cream, then we rode down to check the hot springs pool, volleyball and basketball courts, and playground and horseshoe pits.  Down at the river we stopped again and walked around, making sure that there were enough water pockets for the Fisherman to cast a line later on… anglers in the area cast for whitefish and rainbow trout and the Fisherman could hardly wait to try his luck!
We went to bed early, although sleep was hard to come by with all the amount of noise and racket coming from some over energized children next to our gypsy caravan, frolicking and shouting among themselves, almost up to midnight.  But all in all, we love sleeping in our gypsy caravan, and now that we have changed beds and are closer to the heater, what a difference that has made!  

We woke to a beautiful Saturday morning.  I read all morning—just taking it easy, meditating and contemplating all the beautiful colors around me while the Fisherman fished.  
In the afternoon, we put on our swimming suits and headed down to the hot springs pool.  The water enters the pool at 100 F. and exits the pool at about 97 F. The pool holds 180,000 gallons of water. This type of pool is known as a "skim pool." The water flows in one side of the pool and out the other, changing the entire volume of water in about 6 hours. It was the perfect temperature and although the bottom and sides of the pool are formed from the natural rock, you float on your floater and your feet don’t have to touch the rock if you don’t want to.  How relaxing and awesome it felt.
Naturally, after dinner, the Fisherman set out again for another fishing outing, and this time he took me with him.  We got on our car and went onto the unpaved road to another mile or so to an open place where years ago we boondocked with our kids and some friends.  The river there runs low and beautiful and everywhere you looked it was this immense expanse of everything lovely and free under the broad wing of God.
That night, for the very first time ever in my life, I fall sleep being lullabied by the mystifying songs of owls…  the hoo-hoohoo-hoo sounds the last notes to enter the unconsciousness.

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