12 We still walk the trail. We still eat at the Latchstring, positioned across the street from the lodge. We still spend the morning in our pajamas in the lobby, playing Train with dominoes. But for years now, it’s been the three of us; the dragon perished for good long ago and poses no more threat to the princesses. As we sat in the hot tub, the sky became steadily darker, accompanied by a gentle, distant roll of thunder. Soon enough, raindrops were splashing softly into the hot water, onto the cracked wood. It was a calm drizzle, nothing that would scare us back inside. The rain only lasted for a couple of minutes before it turned into sleet, splattering icily onto my hair. I shivered a bit and sunk further down so that my shoulders were under the water. All around me, heavy fog had settled on the tips of the canyon, seemingly erasing any world beyond the lodge and sealing me in my own reality, one of calm and blissful joy. It didn’t take long before the sleet seemed to blur my surroundings, and I realized that it was becoming thicker, whiter: sleet had turned to snow. I reveled in the atmosphere’s peace. Flakes were flurrying silently among the dark green trees, clouding the sky and landing softly on the green grass. As I peered over the edge of the railing, I caught a glimpse of two whitetail deer trotting just below us, past the lodge and into the trees: a fairytale bonus to an already perfect scene. Everything was still. Nothing mattered in that moment. I felt no worry, no questions. I could simply feel the authenticity of my reality, the knowledge that this moment was only this moment, and I was experiencing it now and never would again, but that was alright. If everything was routine, I wouldn’t feel the need to worry. And yet, this drastic change, arriving without warning, did not bring anxiety; it chased it away. I was eager to see how diverse the canyon’s weather would dare to be. Experiencing that peace, I would have been more than happy if I’d been met with a massive snowstorm or a frigid downpour. Within twenty minutes, the snow slowly changed back to a sprinkle. Soon after, the sun broke through the clouds, shutting off the rain and chasing away the dreary peace. My grandmother and I discussed how strange that weather was, how quickly it had changed. I was sad to see the storm leave so soon. Perhaps, sometime, a new stormwill come, and I’ll try not to fear it as I’ve done before. I’d like that peace again, that happy surprise. So, for now, I’ll put on my coat and straighten my shoulders and think to myself: bring on the storm.
RkJQdWJsaXNoZXIy NzkyNTY=