Passing the entrance (I didn't feel paying the $7 fee for a few snapshots was worth it), I headed to Weaver's Needle Vista Point. I hiked for about half an hour, up and down hills, my eye on Weaver's Needle. It was so very quiet out there, just a soft breeze as the sun drifted down, shining through layers of clouds as it moved. It was peaceful, and fed my soul.
On my way back toward town, there's a small service road to the back of Superstition Mountain that the locals use to hike some of the trails. I got out and wandered around, mostly focused on the setting sun, and hoping it would break through the clouds at the last minute and shine on the mountain before I left.
As I stood there, silence pressing in on me, the light faded to twilight, I stared up at the clouds. They were drifting ever so slowly, but definitely visible. Sounds from the mountain were audible as I stood there, nothing else moving around me. There's a word for what I was hearing: the breeze was soughing through the mountain. It's not often that you can use that word; and the noise it made was .... a little bit eery, as if something from another time and place was still making sounds from within the mountain caverns.
How often do we let sunsets pass us by?
How often do we not pause in our busy-ness and listen for the wind?
When was the last time you stopped, looked and listened
to nature rather than the radio, or the TV?
If its been a while, or you can't remember the last time, then make time to do it again real soon. Life is too short not to pause and realize how small we are, how short our time here on Earth is.
Nature-ful HUGS to everyone!
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