Today on Tiger Mountain


September 16, 2018

Preparing, packing my pack.

Sun warm on my back,

as I put on my boots.

Filtered sun through the trees

to greet me as I begin to walk.

The sun glints off numerous

shades of green.

A few leaves with a golden hue,

as the final days of summer recede.

I enter the more dense

second growth forest.

The skies darken and the light wanes.

Just as I hear a clap of thunder

the wind begins to create

a dance of conifers and maples.

It’s only drizzling.

I am immersed.

I keep on walking.

The wind picks up.

Bending the most vulnerable branches

into arching shapes.

The elders only somewhat impacted,

full of girth and strength.

The rain gains more power.

Just as I get my pack’s and 

my rain jackets on,

the wind howls.

The elder conifers now

waving wildly.

I glance uphill,

putting on my hood.

The sky opens and begins to pour.

With my next step,

just off to my left,

a reverberating crack of thunder.

As if on cue, the hail begins.

I continue uphill now

paralleling an immediately formed

small creek running beside me

down the trail.



Winding it’s way 

down the mountain

taking needles, stones and leaves 

with it.



All is one.

Some lightly colored 

golden and 

salmon-colored leaves appear,

plastered to the rocks 

under my feet, 

as if clinging to the 

last moments of summer.

Continuing to walk uphill,

I am drenched within minutes.

Cleansing rain,

washing the summer’s dryness away

in an instant. 

Nourishing, rejuvenating, and


in the moment.

Following uphill 

the ever growing creek

in the trail.

It flows without

abandon downhill.

Within ten minutes

the winds quiet,

the rain slows and

the hail stops.

The skies lighten.

There in front of me

off in the distance,

the beckoning light 

of the sun

breaking through the clouds.

Creating a magical moment

of light

on the lacy leaves of a 

high bush huckleberry.



Steam rising,

drops dripping,

and sparkles of light

all dancing and twinkling

on the few red huckleberries

left clinging to the branches.

What a magical moment!

What a gift!

Thank you Mother Earth!

Less than a half mile to go.

The sun beckoning from 

pockets of blue sky

draw me to the summit.

The creek running downhill

now non-existent.

The ground just wet now.

Sunlight glinted off 

new raindrops covering

all of the many varieties

of forest beings.

Once on the summit,

the world between 

clouds, sun, mist, and clarity

all dance before me.

Chaos lifts and

a new moment rises.

A moment to commune with.

On my way down, 

enjoying solitude,

embraced by

filtered light interwoven

with the forest floor.

Near the bottom 

I hear a voice behind me say

“Looks like you endured the gully washer.”

A guy made a passing 


as he walked briskly by.

Endured for sure.

What if we more than ‘endured’ 

life’s chaotic storms?

What if we endured, 

abided within,

created resilience from,

grew a true thriving experience around….

all of life’s gully washers?

What if we listened

to the heartbeat

at the center of our soul,

calling out to

co-create a new existence?

Are you listening?

Feeling, co-creating?



Carrie Lafferty

Sept 2018