Vagary

by Shannon Thayer (United States of America)

I didn't expect to find USA

In the heat of the day, when the natural world grew lazy, so did we. The hour after lunch, with full bellies, we would lounge in whatever meager shade we could find. Some would nap, others would read. Eric and I lied in the scattered shade of a large juniper, trying to keep the hot sun off our face. The flies too; were lazy. They were large and a deep metallic green. The game was to hold a cupped hand out in front of us and try to catch the slow-moving flies. As lazy and slow as they were, we were lazier and slower. It was just enough of a competitive challenge that soon other members of trail crew joined our game. It was a lazy game, one you would never play at with a busy mind, but my mind was quiet as it had been after days deep in the wilderness along the Mogollon Rim. Just now, this moment, meditating on how to catch a giant, lazy fly, this moment was peaceful. This moment, I was happy, joyful even. This moment was perfect. This moment was the only moment. I caught a fly and released it, I caught a fly and released it. Catch, release, catch, release... Even those that dedicate their lives to prayer and meditation could not possibly know this feeling of calm, of peace. Any thought came and went with the slightest of breeze – possibly caused by the flutter of a fly’s wings. Wilderness has that ability – the ability to quiet the mind, to allow a person to contemplate the beat of a fly’s wings, the subtle blueness of a juniper berry, the texture of a stone, the shape of the veins in an aspen leaf. No one talks – it's only the buzzing of the flies. We don’t need words; we have spent days and nights together. We do not need polite conversation to fill the quiet buzz. We are willing to just be with one another, to enjoy the presence of having someone close. Wilderness is the only place we can do this. There are more soft claps as others join the game. After days in the backcountry your body, your soul begins to remember the rhythms it has buried to live comfortably in our world of right now's, quick fixes and rushed time. Naturally, we rise with sun and the songs of the birds praising and welcoming the day. We eat when we are hungry, rest when we are tired. The thought that we should return to work, clearing the trail, breaks through our silent minds, but the buzz and the slight cuff of cupped hands continues. Catch and release. People need Wilderness. I imagine if a group of us were sitting on a sidewalk, in some big city, lazily catching flies. The passerby's, myself included, would hurry by, casting wary glances, maybe even crossing to the other side of the street. I chuckle at the thought, no one notices, and I let the thought go on the wings of a fly. I watch as one fly lands on my arm. I have never studied a fly, never truly seen a fly. I can feel each tiny black leg as it tickles the hair on my arm. I notice the way each hair on its legs move, twitching tasting. The metallic green glints in the midday sun. I am mesmerized by its sheer beauty – it's not just green but blue as well as purple. The wings flutter for a beat. I marvel at how delicate, fragile and strong they are. The fly continues its journey down my arm, and I just watch and see. These are wilderness days. Days that you know you carry everything you need to survive for a time on your back. Worries and time melt away. Not only can you contemplate your life, but you can contemplate the life of a fly. Wilderness days are about contemplating the warmth of the sun, a cool sip from a mountain spring, a wolf’s howl, and a hummingbird’s wing. Or Wilderness days are just letting those thoughts come and go, just savoring whatever moment you have. This moment. Catch and Release It.