I step in and the scent of sunshine and wood, pine and earth cascades over me like water, filling me up.
It is a scent that is fresh and ancient, umami and sweet.
It is a scent that I know like the back of my hand
and yet
Each rendezvous is its own affair.
It is a scent that connects me to the deepest and truest parts of who I am.
I inhale deeply and the world becomes right again.
This scent that I speak of arrives in spring, on the heels of winter, when the earth has sated her thirst for dormancy and has had her fill of quietness. When she is ready to transition – to wake up – to shed her skin, and burst forth in her unabashed splendor.
It is a scent that is unique to the mountains of the Eastern Sierra. I remember the first time I laid eyes on them – I was dazzled by their majesty. Stark desert gives way to rugged mountainscape in the blink of an eye – her peaks reaching up towards the heavens.
Surely it couldn’t get better than that… and yet it did. I remember my first hike in them – an exploratory jaunt up to Long Lake.
What started out on a mildly exposed trail of sand and stone, quickly turned to piney forest, dark earth, and the scent. I had never experienced anything like it. I was instantly intoxicated and I knew right then that I would never grow tired of it – that I would be inexorably linked to it. That a part of me would always be seeking it, no matter where I was or how much time had passed.
They say that scent is the strongest sense tied to memory. I’ll take it a step further and say that scent is the strongest sense tied to the heart.
Because that’s what I experience in its presence – a complete and total fulfillment of my heart – my being – my soul.
Every morning I am fortunate enough to look out my kitchen window and drink in the magnificence of the Sierra Nevada range, and every morning I am awed by it. But around this time my gaze turns to yearning. A stirring begins, from deep within, and somehow I know that it is time.
As John Muir attests, “The mountains are calling and I must go.”
This time little fingers entwine with mine. Together, we step in and the scent welcomes us like an old friend
and
I know that we are home.
Stay savage friends and Get. It. Done.
If you’re interested in any of this, in my journey, my story, check back weekly. Much more meandering musings and kuhlhuman thoughts to come.
Also! If you have questions about what I write or even suggestions for future blog posts, feel free to leave a comment below or email me at thekuhlhuman@gmail.com.