Fred and I are camping in Jasper National Park. I love being outside and recall what Victoria Loorz said about “relationship-ing” with Creation: we are in relationship with creation, and she with us. With this in mind, I notice what I notice.
A vibrant orange Wood Lily says, “Hello.” I see more of them as I ride on and stop for a closer look. The petals form the flower unlike any lily I’ve seen. Daisies flank the trail, welcoming everyday pilgrims to notice the beauty all around.
A very large raven watches us cook dinner in a picnic shelter at Lake Annette. He paces back and forth a few feet away, eyeing us. I get the feeling he wants us to know he’s willing to share this space as long as we understand it belongs to him.
Back at the campground, we’ve just missed meeting a grizzly with two cubs.
Black spindles fill the southern landscape, evidence of the 2024 fire. I pray Tonglen for the forest, breathing in the death and loss, and breathing out a blessing for new seeds sprouting, new homes under construction.
Every day, jagged, snow-capped peaks catch the clouds. Rain comes and goes, making any firm plans to hike or bike impossible. I sense them saying, Let this moment unfold and see what happens. Trust that all is well, and you will be given what you need.
Another dinner in another shelter, another bird eyes us, chirping until we choose the table away from the nests the swallow guards. She never leaves her post or takes her eyes off us, and never asks us to leave.
I listen to the silence, the wind, the birds, the raindrops on the tent, and feel connected to the deep peace of the trees, mountains, clouds and sky. I feel an ease within.
Deep peace of the running wave to you
Deep peace of the flowing air to you
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you
Deep peace of the shining stars to you
Deep peace of the gentle night to you
Moon and stars pour their healing light on you
Deep peace of Christ the light of the world to you.
—A Gaelic Blessing
An Everyday Pilgrim 