There were about a hundred steps to go down. But we were excited so going down meant nothing. As we descended deeper, the world became silent, the volume of nature was heightened instead. Tons and tons of liquid angrily protruded through from the other side of the dam. At the end of it, the water trickled along nonchalantly like striations of liquid chrome. The curvy lines in this lake looked like they have been traveling along lightly since they were even a thing. One wouldn't presume that those curvy strides were just blasted out of a hole half a mile back. A hole that seemed impregnated by water, transitioned to a better world. One with less clutter.
As we hiked further, (away from the world) the cool, breezy temperature invigorated us with more energy for adventure. Shades of green and yellow trees everywhere. It was a beautiful sight. Nonetheless, each time I looked down the more I became worried. More and more holes in the ground made me believe my worst enemy was among us. Small, 4-inch diameter holes were the tale-tell signs of snakes. It's funny though because for most of the trail, I was the one leading. After spotting two just born snakes (which were at the size where they could still be debated as being "cute") I decided it was probably at everyone's best interest that we head back. Usually when the young one's are present, the mother or help isn't too far.
Being here with friends, with open-minded individuals made this an experience. It made this day a memory. There's only a few things that compare to spending intimate time with nature. It can seem daunting, unattractive and senseless. But so can life. What you make out of every experience is what you get from each experience.
