The Inspiration

When I was a teenager I bought three beautiful posters, photographs of nature scenes.  I loved these pictures.  I visited the store on several occasions to leaf through all of the pictures that they had.  I chose very carefully and was so excited to finally get them home and on my wall where they always made me happy.  They were tranquility, peace, and beauty.  One was a stunning picture of a waterfall in autumn. Taken from the bottom of the waterfall, large rocks were carpeted with leaves that burned crisp autumn colors, as the water splashed and swirled around them.  The water appeared soft and cloudy, it was surreal and heavenly.  The second picture was an image of a pond; a pink sky and wild meadow were reflected in it.  There was tall grass and wildflowers that grew from the pond in the foreground of the picture.  The third photograph was a forest of tall trees brimming with fall colors enticing one to spend a quiet afternoon studying each leaf and hue.  The names of these spectacular places were written in small print in the corner beneath the photos, but I never actually took the time to read them.  Years later I moved to Cleveland and about a year after that I realized that one of the pictures, the autumnal waterfall, was taken near Cleveland in Cuyahoga Valley National Park.  It was a picture of Blue Hen Falls, and I thought to myself, "hmm, I should go there someday, that's pretty cool."  A few years after that, I got an amazing opportunity to spend a summer in Denali National Park, Alaska and I soon realized that the photo of the pond was that of Reflection Pond, deep within the park. What I didn't realize was that there was something missing from the picture that graced my wall at home.  Hidden behind the clouds, that lay on top of the meadow, was a majestic mountain: Mt. McKinley, otherwise known as Denali, "The Great One".  The mountain is the highest in North America at 20,320 feet... it is something to behold.  I still hadn't visited the waterfall in Cleveland, but here I had one chance to see the spot where this serene picture had been taken, and even more perhaps, see the mountain that had been covered up in my picture at home.  I wasn't going to miss it.  I would visit the waterfall when I returned.  About a week after moving to Alaska I had a dream that the whole summer was over and I hadn't done a thing.  Well I did not let that dream come true.  I did things.  I saw plenty.  And it was all amazing.  I rode on a helicopter over Denali, a massive white, blowing, giant; spotted with colored tents that were filled with courageous hikers living their dreams.  I climbed mountains, not Denali... but not an ant hill either.  I breathed in the glory of reaching the top of Mt. Healy, the 5,417 foot mountain that I was privledged enough to see every day outside my window when I woke up.  I was 10 terrifying and  unforgettable feet away from a black bear.  As tempting as it is to indulge on this story a bit... he didn't even know i was there... thank god.  I saw the heaven sent Northern Lights dance through the sky.  I ran through the quiet  park at 11 pm as the sun started to dissapear for the evening in late summer.  I enjoyed as much as I could possibly enjoy and then 2 weeks before I left I spent an evening camping in the shadows of the glorious mountain, Denali.  I went with two friends to the Wonder Lake campground, an eleven hour round trip bus ride, going maybe 25 mph.  This is as close as you can get to Mt. McKinley via the park road, and its also within walking distance to Reflection Pond.  It was crystal clear, not one cloud covered the quieting sight.  It was early September and the nights were cold, but I walked from the campground to Reflection Pond in the early evening.  It was breathtaking, awesome, and spiritual.  There she was, standing as I'm sure she has been standing since the beginning of time.  Looking over the earth, giving people a chance to peek at heaven... and she was reflected perfectly in the pond.  I stayed there until it was dark just looking at her, afraid to leave, afraid that I would regret not staying longer, but eventually I returned to the campground, freezing and hungry.  I ate, washed up in icy cold water and then snuggled in a sleeping bag and lay under the stars holding onto the moment for as long as I could.  When I returned to Cleveland I knew I had to go to Blue Hen Falls.  The following spring I planned a fun weekend for my then boyfriend, now husband, Don.  We saw a Baltimore Orioles vs. Cleveland Indians Game at Jacobs field.  Don rooted for the I's, I rooted for the O's, hon.  The next day we took the train into Cuyahoga Valley National Park and stopped in Boston.  My mission was to take a hike and stop for a picnic by the falls.  We started out, map in tow and walked for a while... we started to get nervous about how much further we had to go.  We had to get back by a certain time to take the train back, so we decide to turn around before we made it to the falls and find it another day.  The next time we went on the "find the falls" journey we had our son, Gabe, with us.  He was one and a half and we had him in the baby jogger ready to take a hike.  We started up the hill towards our destination, and as we turned and swerved and moved about roots and branches and had to do most of it with the stroller tipped to one side... inches away from sliding down a hillside we stopped.  Don, I could tell was ready to stop a while ago, but I am a bit on the stubborn side.  I enjoy planning out the "perfect day" scenario in my head: Mom, Dad, Baby, all happily hiking to beautiful destination.  Laughing, picnicking, taking in the view.  We could be on the cover of an adventurer's magazine, although we would all need much more trendy cool hiker's apparel.  Anyway I tend to start thinking that I messed up the day if we don't end up with the perfect memory... but none the less, we both agreed that it was stupid to attempt to do the hike with a baby stroller and we headed off on a different direction.  Real Quick: the day went like this:  walk, walk, enjoy picnic...me, "oh look, (referring to map), if we go this way we can get to Brandywine Falls, that's supposed to be pretty."  Poor husband, "ok."  Three hours of walking with a restless toddler later we finally got to Brandywine Falls.  After enjoying the falls for a few minutes our minds wandered to "how long is it going to take to get back?"  I thought I saw a shortcut on the map to get us easily back to our car.  We had a little bit of food left and a sip of water and the only thing around was a bed and breakfast. Well they have to have water I thought.  Armed with a twenty dollar bill, I went up to the door and knocked.  I didn't want them to think I was a freeloader.  A man answered, I asked if I could buy a water, he said he was only a guest... a moment later my doctor poked her head around the corner.  She and her husband happened to be staying there that weekend... what are the chances?  Anyway, she filled our water bottles up for us and offered a ride... I said... "oh we should be fine."  I don't think Don agreed.  Twenty minutes later, after I realized the shortcut I saw was the interstate highway which we would have had to jump down to from thirty feet above, and after several bikers told us we were a long way from where we wanted to be, our knights in shining armor: my doctor and her husband pulled up in their car, rolled down the window and said, "sure you don't want that ride?"  One of the bikers said, "I'd go if I were you."  So we did.  I held Gabe tight in my lap and figured there had to be times that people just didn't worry about a car seat.  This was surely one of those times.  We took a lovely and LONG drive back to our car and could not have been more grateful for the ride.  We would have been walking FOREVER!!!!!!!!!  I think if we had walked we would have ended up divorced, and Gabe may have eaten us before we got back to the car, so I'm really glad it worked out the way it did.  We will never forget that day... it may have been forgetable if it was just a boring old magazine cover.  Our third excursion to find the falls was earlier this summer.  I studied the map this time even more carefully and realized... umm, there is a parking lot across from a trail head that leads right to the falls, only a few minutes walk away.  I felt a little stupid, but it was kind of funny.  So we sunscreened up, took our snacks and our two year old and went to FINALLY see Blue Hen Falls.  It was a lovely walk complete with all the fun hiking obstacles.  A tree down that we had to climb over, some rocky and twig covered dirt and of course a small bridge that stretched over a shimmering stream.  It was here that I was inspired to write a children's book.  As we threw rocks into the stream, we wondered what those rocks will see in their lifetime.  "Ohhhh, what a cool idea for a kid's book!"  I told my husband.  We walked on and saw the falls, and I felt as if I had finally made it to some sort of finish line.  I took plenty of pictures which I LOVE to do, and my husband so patiently waited for me to feel content that I got every angle and artistic shot imaginable.  The falls were beautiful, but my mind was onto something else.  I couldn't stop thinking of that idea.  Now, I have had ideas before, and sometimes I have started to write them down, but never have I done what I did when we left the park.  I wrote immediately.  In the car on the way to get ice cream.  I kept writing while I waited with our sleeping babe in the backseat and Don went to get the homemade creamy dream for himself and a rootbeer for me.  (I was a full on vegan at that moment.)  I wrote on the way home.  I did get distracted over the following month, but during our end of July trip to Rhode Island I got inspired again.  Standing on an empty beach in a misty rainstorm looking out at the water, a lighthouse's light going round and round in the distance; I finished the book in my head.  Then I finished it on paper during our drive home to Cleveland.  It felt so good to have something finished.  So many times in my life I have started something and not seen it through and I vowed this time it would be different.  And it has been.  A week later I googled: how do you publish a book? and a whole new world has been opened up to me.  I'll get to all that later, but for now I really do wonder if everything happens for a reason... if I hadn't bought those exact three pictures half a lifetime ago would I be where I am right now, trying to get my first book published?  By the way I still need to visit the White Mountains in New Hampshire where the third photo was taken.  I wonder what adventure is in store for me there when I finally make that trip!