As I continued on – A walk in Gunpowder Falls


It began innocently enough… I’ve walked this path many times before, casting my burdens by the wayside as I walked.


It was the calm before the storm…  And it was apparent that I was the only person along this stretch of the park, I walked without any sense of urgency.

I placed my gloved hands inside my jacket pockets to keep them warm,  after a few minutes I discovered that my normal route was flooded and frozen over.


What to do?

I walked gingerly and listened to the ice buckle and crack under my feet. It eventually gave way and I gave a silent thank you to waterproof boots as I continued on.


I was at this point in the trail when I reached the solace point.


The forest enveloped me in her icy embrace that I was impervious to, thanks to my internal thermal garments.

So, I continued on.


The beauty of winter is often underrated, as the cold reveals the terrain for what it is…

The majesty of the cliffs that jut out from the landscape are magnetic.


The power of the stream rushing to my right refuses to succumb to a fate of ice, being still isn’t what it aspires to.


I look up & wonder about the vantage point from the cliff…. I pause, before continuing on.


I reach a point in the forest where I usually ford the rocks to get to the other side only to find that it is covered by a layer of ice…

I see a future on me on my ass, which is a deal breaker.

No options, so I continue on… Discovering a path to my left.


I’m not ready to turn back because I haven’t acquired what I came here to get. I look upstream to see if there is another way across.


I follow this path and I kick  myself for not discovering this route previously…

And… I continue on.


The sound of the water rushing by insulates me from numbness spreading into my fingers.


I’m compelled to reach back to grab my camera, rabidly removing my gloves to snap pictures as I continue on.


The rush of the water is growing in volume… Filling my ears with the splendor of the sound.

So I continue on…




I wasn’t prepared for what was over the hill…

Undaunted, I continued on…



Here lies another set of waterfalls that I was oblivious to… I made my way down to the stream and absorbed the divine. My appendages weren’t cold, but were pulsating with the warmth of divine intervention.

I didn’t want to continue on…

But I did.


The icy embrace of winter made its presence felt as I continued on.

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How had this segment of the park slipped through my fingers after all of these years I wondered.



As I walked, I felt free, unburdened, unencumbered and I felt a smile creep over my face.



And I continued on…

Content after finding what I was looking for…

A slice of solace, piece of mind, a hug from the Almighty.


Those waters of uncertainty

Mother Nature has always been a gracious host.

Inviting me into her confines, where I am compelled to learn at her feet.

Feeling at peace.

In today’s lesson I realized…

Whenever I’ve come full circle with the reality of what I’ve always known to be true – instead of taking the revelation head on. I chose the path of cowardice – tucking it away in the recesses of my mind, hoping that it will fade away into oblivion.

Sadly, it never does.

More often than not, it comes back with a vengeance.

Facing the waters

Turning my back on “it”


That being said – the question must be asked:


Am I really being true to myself?


Taking it a step further, is it fair to say that if I’m unable to tell the hard truths to myself, then who can I speak truth to?

The older that I get.

The more I come to terms with the sobering realization.


That I didn’t know as much as the earlier incarnations of myself were so unshakably certain of.


In short, I take solace in the fact that there is wisdom in acknowledging the certainty of uncertainty.

There is so much to be gained from the edification of our own fickleness.

Accepting it and taking it head on.

Rather than running or making futile attempts to hide from it.

So, I often find myself walking in the relative solace of nature as a therapy of sorts.

Only to find myself staring back at the reflection in the water, not unlike the mythical Narcissus.

But instead of being enamored with my visage.

I find myself enchanted with the prospect of taming the dual elements of beauty and ugliness that reside within.

Because it is by acknowledging their existence that I can begin to plot my escape from the purgatory of stationary complacency and traverse that long winding road towards higher plateaus.

Enchanted by the ebb of the water.

Enchanted by the ebb of the water.


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