Feeling Small

Just before I left on my vacation, I read an article about the value of being out in the wilderness and feeling small. Insignificant is the word used in the BBC article, which sites a study that concludes these feelings of smallness and insignificance compared to the enormous, beautiful world around you, might just make you a nicer person. True? Maybe, maybe not. But man, did I find myself feeling small on the Nantahala river.

As we drove into our vacation spot at the Nantahala Outdoor Center (NOC), I felt myself shrinking. The spectacular mountains and the narrow winding roads are served up like a slice of humble pie. It's a unique spot at the intersection of the Nantahala River and the Appalachian Trail. The magnitude of the earth's beauty is all around you. You can feel the difference in the air you breathe. Our cabin is among the trees, and the river flows just down below.

But today I was on the river. A tiny person in a tiny boat, making my way down through the mountains and trees, through the rocks and the river. This river, that from afar doesn't look much wider than a highway, but embodies as much power on its own as a highway filled with cars. The sunny and almost ninety degree temperatures settling down on the crisp chilly water, created a misty steam rising from its surface. Off in the distance, my son and his friend were just two lego-sized figures paddling along enveloped in the steam, through a gorge in the Nantahala. I thought to myself, my G-d, they look so small.  And I realized, so must I.

How trusting we are. We acknowledge our smallness by respecting the power and vastness of nature's biggest and most beautiful places. Never do we brazenly believe we are the ones in control. Instead we give to the power of the river, respect the direction toward which it sends us, and ride with the force of its flow. Today, I was a rubber ducky, just going with the flow of the Nantahala River.

I am insignificant to the flow of the river. It will flow with or without me, and inspite of or despite me. The magnitude of its beauty and its power is not lost on me.

No Words

There are no words for the river running right beside you

There are no words for the gushing water or the setting sun

There are no words for the sounds of crickets and cicadas, or

a bird calling the sounds of a cartoon snore

There are no words for the quiet still, woods

There are no words for escaping the everyday 

There are no words for nighttime darkness, 

the kind when you can't see your hand

There are no words 

for the mountain skies

the scenic views

the rustic trails

the clean, fresh air

There are no words.