We Reflect to a Deeper Layer

We are graced with their presence, beauty colors
our universe like an endless ceiling of bright blue sky.
Then one morning we wake with heavy hearts,
realizing they have gone, as though sneaking out
in the middle of the night without a word, their
existence seemingly nonexistent. Iron-gray clouds
move through that lovely cloudless sky like a brush
stroke of lingering gloom. We suspect the sun has
an attitude, refusing to rise. And each new day
magnifies the question: Did words accidentally
slip from our tongue landing like poison? Then we
reflect to a deeper layer, flipping a switch because
maybe it’s not us. Maybe it’s them. A surmising…
to soothe the bruises on our hearts.

Lauren Scott ©

Timeless Wisdom…

I came across this old photo with one of my favorite quotes and advice that is truly timeless. In these times of instant gratification, choosing to follow Her advice would be calming to the mind and body...

Lauren Scott (c) ❤️
Photo: my children on one of our camping trips.

Tender Reminiscence

Remember in our younger years
how you’d touch your lips to mine
while standing on the step
when we cold-shouldered time?
No letting-go desire of the
embrace that held us near
No care in the world was matched
in that moment that we shared
Who knew those doorstep kisses
would carry us this distance?
(floating in a state-of-mind
of tender reminiscence)

Lauren Scott (c) ❤️
Do you have memories
of doorstep kisses?

One boot in front of the other…

Some say backpacking is magical, and I’m one of those people. Backpacking for my husband has been his life’s passion, but I only expressed an interest five years ago when I was fifty-six. To this day, my interest in slipping a pack on my back and hitting the trail has not waned. Trees flanking the trails, butterflies floating from bloom to bloom, dragonflies buzzing above the shimmering water, the breeze bringing relief like a refreshing swim in the lake, and the morning light stretching over the horizon remind us that another glorious day has arrived – they’re all magic.

It is humble to carry essentials on my back. I’m not like Cheryl Strayed, author of Wild who hiked the Pacific Crest Trail in three months. I don’t own that level of bandwidth to wear the boots of a thru-hiker, whether on the PCT or on the Appalachian Trail. Nor do I have the desire to attempt a 60-mile trip like my husband has completed on several occasions. I’m a middle-aged woman who possesses a yearning to challenge myself in body, mind, and soul – to step out of my comfort zone and seek adventures to be experienced, even though I need to shed a few pounds.

I get tired at times my legs begin to tremble. I have literally met exhaustion face to face on a few of our hikes. And when I get hot, my face turns pomegranate red, a little embarrassing when greeting other hikers. Sweat trickles and forms in patches on my body that, yes, I’ll refrain from naming. And unfortunately, no shower stands behind the tent waiting to be utilized. And yet, I am pulled into the magic…

I’ve known several friends who didn’t get the chance to celebrate their fiftieth birthday. We all know tomorrow is not guaranteed. I always try to live my life to its fullest, but now even more so as I grow older. Maybe because I’m inching my way closer to the top of the ladder! So, I choose to explore this type of adventure that never appealed to me when I was younger. To live my life in the richest way possible.

I’m not a solo backpacker, but I admire those who are, especially women portraying strength, perseverance, and determination by setting out on their own. I find comfort in the security of going with my husband, knowing he holds the experience and knowledge of the trail. I do help pitch the tent and set up and clean up camp, so I don’t just sit around sipping wine while he does all the work. We make a good team. He’s also the one who calms me in the middle of the night when the snap of a twig causes my eyes to fly open. What was that? A bear? A human? The imagination can truly run wild! But I acknowledge this trait and try to allow his calm composure to flow into me.

As to my body, there are moments when my knees twinge or my hips groan from sleeping on nothing but a pad separating me from the ground! And the sleeping bag manages to twist me up at times, too. All magic. Every lens to the surrounding beauty, every chirp or snap, even each little ache or unexpected precipitation literally raining on our parade falls into the package of a life-changing alchemy. The welcome peace from the hustle and bustle of daily routines. The whispers of wind through the trees attempting to touch the vast sky. The breeze ruffling my bangs looking a bit wonky after taking off my hat. Getting outdoors, inhaling the fresh air, time to reflect. As I said before…magic for the mind, body, and soul.

So, given our bodies remain capable, my husband and I will continue on the backpacking trail one boot in front of the other, relishing the magic of it all.

Lauren Scott (c) ❤️

Shifting of Seasons

I’ll be off grid next week, adventuring with hubby and backpack in the wilderness. So, have a great week ahead and I leave you with this bright beauty and the moods of seasons…

Autumn admired the brilliant blue sky
Winter wiggled out of my sneakers
Spring tapped me on the shoulder
Summer’s hello, sweet as apple pie!

Lauren Scott (c) ❤️

Her Window

The earsplitting howling, an eerie high-pitched note whirls around in Stephanie’s mind as she sleeps. The awful noise wails just outside her window, so she is bound to hear the sound that could echo a music score in a horror movie. Not that she would know because she isn’t old enough to watch scary movies. But her imagination tells her so. The trees fall into a trance like a magic spell cast upon them. They rock back and forth, their branches bending in unnatural ways, the tips like long, pointed fingernails scratching her bedroom window. The sound grates on her brain like a fork scraping a plate and tires screeching on asphalt. Stephanie tosses and turns. She fights to stay asleep, to ignore the menacing noise. Subconsciously, she remembers Beauty and the Beast on the wall above her headboard, her favorite musical, how she adores Belle. They take her to a happy place so she can fall back into that deep slumber. But only for a few minutes…

The scratching escalates, growing more intense, faster, and wilder on her windowpane. The wailing blares louder than fire sirens. Her eyes scrunched closed, she covers her ears with both hands, hoping to mute the horrific sound while lying still, no longer tossing and turning. Fear has paralyzed her body. She feels trapped, so afraid to move even an inch. But she has to get out of bed! It’s coming for her! It will shatter her window and climb inside! Her legs may as well be blocks of cement, but somehow, with all her six-year-old might, she swings her left leg over the side of her twin bed, then her right leg. She is sitting up now but has to run! No time to waste! No time for shoes! Her bare feet must carry her down the hallway to save her parents! Suddenly, Stephanie hears glass shatter, shards land on her comforter! She flies off her mattress so fast, her legs sprinting out of the room!

For a second, Stephanie closes her eyes while her legs move at marathon speed, the hallway never seemed so long. And just when she reaches her parent’s doorway, arms bind around her tightly in boa fashion, squeezing the air from her lungs.

“Let me go! Let me go!” She screams loud enough to shake the roof. Her arms and legs fling sporadically. Fighting off the huge monster with pointy fingernails.

“Stephanie, it’s Mom, wake up!” Lauren gently shakes her daughter, sitting on the edge of her bed. Belle and the Beast watch from the wall.

“Mom! It’s coming for us. We have to get Dad. We have to leave, now!”

“Oh, sweetheart, I think the wind howling caused a nightmare. It’s storming outside, but the three of us are safe in the house. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“I was so scared, Mom. I hate the wind!” Stephanie says, hugging her mother, never wanting to let go.

“I don’t like it either,” Lauren hugs her daughter back, loving the feel of her little girl safe in her arms. “But just close your eyes and know that everything is okay.”

And just like that, consoled by her mom, Stephanie lets go and rolls over onto her right side. Exhaustion from the excitement finally kicking in. Her eyelids close slowly. Lauren sits for a few minutes, watching her beautiful daughter fall into a peaceful sleep. Then she quietly walks out of the room, but the earsplitting howling perpetuates. The storm isn’t due to pass for another ten hours.


Lauren Scott (c)

The Wisdom of Signs

Yesterday, I met a friend for breakfast, and then we took a walk through downtown and the neighborhood. We both were struck by the beauty and uniqueness of this sign that is not uncommon to any of us. So, below are thoughts that came to mind in the form of haiku:

when children are near
absorb their laughter, the joy
flowing into you

snails teach with their wise
leisure movements, taking in
beautiful backdrops

slow down your travels
do not let decades escape
catalogue moments

pause in your footsteps
regard life’s celebrations
breathe in their fragrance

Lauren Scott (c) ❤️

A Plea

I remember our conversation, effort to
calm emotions, phone glued to ear like

a natural extension. Her voice, exhausted…
“When will this be over?” She asked Dad

days later, more like a plea. He could be
gentle or travel the path of honesty. I don’t
know the words he pulled from his language

of a sixty-seven-year love…how he tiptoed
through the reply, though tenderly, I imagine,
since his heart was shattering into millions
of minute fragments. Her time was close.
Our awareness vigilant. Each day, another
breath held until the hands of time would
pause. Then as quickly as the sun fades
behind rolling hills, raindrops splash upon us.
She had ascended. Moments of memories
to follow. But not one day passes without
celebrating her life. Not one day slips by
without her knowing how much she is
loved and missed.

Lauren Scott (c)
Mom would be 101 today,
and since she loved her roses,
we dedicate this beauty for her.
❤️