We spent a couple of days at Arches National Park this week to replenish our spirits. We did this by depleting all the energy in our bodies. For me, I was pretty depleted to begin, but I made it up the trails. I felt fear like I never remember before, the kind of fear that zings through the body and comes to rest, hot and electric in the feet and fingertips, as I watched the boys climb and jump over rock faces. I felt my spirit expand as I looked out over vistas. Concerns that felt so heavy moved to their proper place in my mind, less prominent and less pressing. We enjoyed our time with Shari’s family. We spent money at a rock shop and ate pop tarts. Comic books and AP History papers littered the back seat of the truck. We played card games in the tent trailer at night and made jokes about signs we saw. My boys said, Look, mom!” a dozen times (My favorite phrase). Food was often the topic of conversation when we weren’t eating. Mark swam at the campground pool until we had to leave. I read four whole pages.
These kite string moments, where we watch the boys soar, are different for Richard than for me. He photographs everything and urges us to do more hikes and make the most of the time. I sit and watch, allowing time to be insignificant, focusing on small moments of how they looked and talked on this day. Then I set the memories away gently in my mind. My favorite moment was sitting under our last arch of the trip, watching the crowds and the boys, Richard and I resting in our little niche in the rock. All was well.
