It’s mid October and if one doesn’t get moving soon, the chance to watch summer die in golden leaves fluttering slowly down from branches will be gone in a blink of an eye.

The Great Western trail up Mill creek canyon has always been a favourite of mine. It’s been a few years since my feet have trodden in the dirt up here. It’s a walk of remembrance, great fallen trees lay in silence as a flashing of friends long gone trip through one’s mind.

The early morning start lends to solitude, the only forest sound a woodpecker.
Clouds race across the bluest of skies.
Piles of leaves get kicked into the air.
The mountain lake babbles insane laughter. I sit for a spell and listen intently.

A lone tent in an open field reveals dogs playing, an man eating breakfast.
I connect with the knowledge that I am not the only one craving to get away.
Be alone. Be free. Be me.
I’m finding myself ready now to face another day, another week, another year.
Hiking serves my soul.

Wench, bring my ale, what say you?

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