After Acadia

A few days after coming down from the mountain the real world always intrudes, especially in the form of folk who’ve forgotten what a mountain looks like. Even an erstwhile naturalist like Thoreau understood this truth. I blogged for him today:

Though you may have sauntered near to heaven’s gate, when at length you return toward the village you give up the enterprise a little, and you begin to fall into the old ruts of thought, like a roadster.

The trick is trying to hike there in your mind each morning, if your body can’t make the trip. And when flatlanders get in your face, do not descend their hellish valley, and don’t just turn your cheek, leave them right behind and climb to places that they haven’t seen in many months of Sundays. It’s OK though if you leave them with some choice words of adieu.