McHugh Creek

The sun shone down through the treetops as I looked towards the dark earth. The smell of fresh dirt and new life filled the air with a sweet stench. We could hear the creek, growing louder at our every step. The dogs searched the rushing myth, ever elusive, just around the next bend. Finally through the fallen trees we found our source of searching. The path continued, or so we thought, through sleeping remnants of forgotten sentinels. Step right, now left, now the trail ends. Over to the right, over the creek, there it continues. We must cross. You balance on the round bridge, stripped of its branches by former hikers, wind, and rain. It looks so easy to cross…but help. You take my hand to show me the way. Slowly, steadily, we make it to the other side to continue on our journey. We decide to head straight up the dank and moist, soil-covered cliff. We wait for our friends; the dogs want to go on. They’re not coming.

You hold me close as the sun shines from behind you and an angel stands before me, where once a young man stood, embracing me. The sweet hush of the creek, now a rush to the left of us. We continue on our adventure. The mossy undergrowth sinks and gives beneath my street worn shoes. I follow you, as we clamor up the steep face strewn with hidden rocks and fallen limbs covered by the loose soil. We reach the top and sit on our throne, two rocks jutting into space, with our legs dangling over the side, swinging freely. The quiet air disturbed only by the heavy panting of the dogs. You sit beside me and peace prevails. It becomes one of those moments you know will be summoned from memory when the air is quiet and the sweet musty smell lingers in the air.

We turn around to a steep trail down, and climb over the fallen trees. Lucy becomes trapped, but she’ll come through, keep going. The sun is warm upon my light blue shirt. Why did I bring your sweatshirt tied around my waist? It’s such a beautiful day. Lucy frees herself and joins us on our journey once again. Heading down the steep terrain we slide and jump through branches, unsteady rocks beneath our feet. We come down exactly where we went up, the trees are familiar, and the ground untouched other than our footsteps from before. It’s as if time stood still. We stand by the creek for a fleeting moment, then sit on the fallen tree lying across the trail. Then you cross again the awkward bridge, and I do it on my own now. The dogs sprint alongside as we run towards the beginning. Run so fast that it’s hard to keep my footing, as I laugh so hard I can barely breathe.