I have to admit: it doesn't feel that great. I feel under-exercised, over-sugared, and a little boring. Here is where I need to say that there's no need to remind me of how good I have it. I am well aware of this. It's just that travel to mountains or desert or forest--I'm not picky--for more than a couple of hours feeds my soul. I have to come to feel like I need that time to recharge, and I'm only getting it in small doses. I feel like when doctors check you for things like Vitamin D, there should be an adventure level check too.
OK that's silly. But anyway. Cabin fever! I have to remind myself: if I could hike and camp all the time, would I even appreciate it as much? I wondered about this as I slogged up a closed road, feet sinking deep in a stew of slush and ice, on yet another too-short excursion. Probably not. Each trip I manage to take feels like a delightful game of hooky, each moment precious. I'm not picky--each excursion is good, because I don't have unlimited choices.
I hiked up through rain, crossing that invisible line where it turned to snow (I love that magical line). The dog raced around, overcome with joy.
|A rainy, sloppy day but great views!|
I know people aren't dogs. We need to go to work, and pay the bills, and worry about stuff. But it's a good reminder to me to live in the moment. I can pace and look at maps all I want, but that won't make summer come any faster or get me freedom from work (seven years and 350 days!) any sooner. I'll make it through cabin fever just fine.