Entering Yosemite National Park along the meandering Lyell Fork of the Tuolumne River, I found it difficult to enjoy the lush green meadows and beautiful alpine scenery surrounding me. Meredith and I had gotten into a heated argument that morning, and emotions were raw as we slowly descended from the snowy heights of the pass to the high plateau of Tuolumne Meadows. I got a cheeseburger from the campground store but didn’t really taste it as we sat at a picnic table outside, not talking much while the bustling tourist hordes flitted around us. After two weeks hiking together this was her last stop, and while she caught a ride down to the valley I got back on the trail to continue my journey north.
Feeling dejected due to our fraught departure, it took some time for me to look up and pay attention to the mountains again. When I finally did, I was rewarded with a view of the Tuolumne River roaring over a 50-foot drop in the granite, the mist from the falls casting a rainbow inside the narrow canyon. As I stood there on a rocky outcrop above the tumult, icy mist droplets peppering my face, a strong sense of calm washed over me. Refreshed by this visceral reminder of where I was I continued along the path, taking in the simple beauty of walking in nature.
Russell on the Road 