Better Living Through Literature
Words + Projects + Stuff I Like
The first weekend in August is also Lughnasa, halfway between the summer solstice and the autumnal equinox. I’m not really a Neo-Pagan but we did our own version of “visiting holy wells” to celebrate–i.e., we went back to hang around Millcreek for a couple hours, where it was hot enough even at altitude that the river felt really good (and kept the beer cold).
It’s wildflower season up at altitude so we headed back up to the Uinta Mountains an hour away to look at them:
Alpine meadows always make me feel like Heidi. Check out that natural bouquet in the second pic!
We didn’t hike yesterday but we did hang out for a mini “beach” day at Millcreek:
It was lovely–the air didn’t feel like opening an oven, the water was “refreshing” (numb your toes cold), and messing around in that lovely shallow stream always makes me feel like I’m in The Wind in the Willows.
As is tradition now (at least since 2017), we went up to the Uinta mountains for the Fourth of July. This time, we didn’t do the full Lofty Lakes Loop trail; we haven’t been on real hikes at all this year because of the rona so we didn’t want to attempt a thousand feet of elevation gain per mile, at altitude.
Instead, we hiked to the lowest lake and played around in it. This is Scout Lake, but it should really be called Bob Ross Lake:
Likewise, Bald Mountain should just really be called Mount Bob.
We didn’t go up into the mountains for the three months of the first wave, both because the Forest Service had asked people to stay away and because there was no way to stay six feet apart on a narrow trail.
Which means we missed all of the snow melt and leafing out and jumped right into summer:
Which means….Moley’s back in the river!
We still avoided a real trail–this is all just off the road at the upper canyon in Millcreek, which is closed to cars until July. But wow, was it nice to get out (and get in the water):
The canyon is mostly bare of leaves but not yet snow-covered; we went up for a walk yesterday and I thought of this passage I found in The Wind in the Willows (at the start of the chapter when Mole ventures into the Wild Wood):
Copses, dells, quarries, and all hidden places, which had been mysterious mines for exploration in leafy summer, now exposed themselves and their secrets pathetically, and seemed to ask him to overlook their shabby poverty for a while, till they could riot in rich masquerade as before, and trick and entice him with the old deceptions. It was pitiful in a way, and yet cheering—even exhilarating. He was glad that he liked the country undecorated, hard, and stripped of its finery. He had got down to the bare bones of it, and they were fine and strong and simple.
We made it up into the canyon for a little bit for the first time in two weeks and the colors are at their peak. But the spray from the river is starting to freeze, so there was no splashing around in it for Moley.
It’s the Autumnal Equinox today and the mountains have gotten the memo: The light has changed to that slanting golden light and it was brisk up there.
We went for another hike by another mountain stream over the weekend. (I couldn’t get in this one, since it’s a watershed; very hard for Moley.)
I don’t know where this fascination with running water has come from but I’m about ready to see if I can go make a life on a river, just like Mole:
This day was only the first of many similar ones for the emancipated Mole, each of them longer and full of interest as the ripening summer moved onward. He learnt to swim and to row, and entered into the joy of running water; and with his ear to the reed-stems he caught, at intervals, something of what the wind went whispering so constantly among them.
(The entirety of The Wind in the Willows is online, btw.)
Instead of a hike, we went wading yesterday. I’m not a great swimmer and have no desire to become one, but rivers (or creeks, in this case) have my heart. Let me stick my feet in one and see the hidden banks and suddenly I’m thinking of becoming a river guide and breaking out The Wind in the Willows quotes:
Never in his life had he seen a river before—this sleek, sinuous, full-bodied animal, chasing and chuckling, gripping things with a gurgle and leaving them with a laugh, to fling itself on fresh playmates that shook themselves free, and were caught and held again. All was a-shake and a-shiver—glints and gleams and sparkles, rustle and swirl, chatter and bubble. The Mole was bewitched, entranced, fascinated.
