Alone, but Not Really Alone

Though I may not be the most outgoing person in the world, I really do love people.  I think the thing that helps me to love all kinds of people, is that I know who and what they really are.  During my career as a teacher, especially in the later years, this perspective helped me to stay focused on the truly important things, and I became more patient and to continue to reach out to them, and yes, even to really love them, in spite of their occasional rowdiness or disrespect for me and others.  I am certainly not perfect, and the older I get, the more I recognize the critical role played by others, parents, family, friends etc., in helping me along the journey of life.  I have become more grateful to all who have traveled this journey with me, even for a short distance.  All have influenced my life in one way or another, and I am equally convinced that people I never knew in this life have affected the way I live and what I am and seek still to become in profound ways.  Even though numerous people have been around me throughout my life, there are times when I simply long to be alone, alone in my thoughts and with my Maker.  There have been special places where I have gone to think without being interrupted and to commune with my Creator.  When I was very young, I remember going over by the "Big Tree",  which stood a short distance from our home on the banks of a small irrigation ditch.  There I would sit and think and wonder what life held in store for me.  Later, I found a special place near the summit of Midnight Mountain, where I could sit and look off toward our home in the valley to the east and with just a slight turn of the head I could see into the Cache Valley area near Preston.  Near the pass going from North Canyon over into Skinner Canyon near Sherman Peak I found a place where I often took my scriptures to prepare for my Sunday School or priesthood lessons to be given the following Sunday.  I could sit there for hours without hearing a sound except for a passing airliner flying high in the sky in the distance.  With only the calls of the birds and the breeze in the trees, I could truly ponder and reflect on the things of most importance.  Another place that became a favorite was Camp Bartlett, especially during the cool days of September, when the heat of summer was past and the air was fresh and invigorating.  During the Summer months Camp Bartlett has a special place in my heart as well, but for different reasons.  Then the area resounds for weeks on end with the sound of scouts and their leaders doing all the rowdy things scouts do at scout camp.  I cherish the time spent in these activities myself, but an even more special feeling fills my heart when I am there alone during the month of September or into early October.  Then, all is still.  The water of the lakes is often mirror-like, reflecting everything in view in perfect clarity.  The fishing is also at its best during these few weeks of autumn.  This is an added bonus.

Yesterday I had nothing on my schedule.  A perfect opportunity for a day alone in the mountains I love.  I chose to go to Camp Bartlett.  I even took my fly rod this time and a little box of assorted flies.  The day was perfect, not to hot and not to cold.  There was only a hint of a breeze, which felt good and put an occasional shimmer in the surface of the lake, momentarily replacing the near perfect mirror of water surrounded by aspen and pines.   I did my share of sitting and pondering and I also tried my skill or rather lack of skill as a fly fisherman.  This time the fish seemed to be hungry and I was able to land several nice trout.  Most of them were put carefully back into the water to bite once again at a later date at the fly of another fisherman.  I did bring a couple home and we enjoyed a good fish supper tonight as a result.

Normally, I don't go around taking pictures of myself, but with the good fortune I was having with the fly rod in hand, I wanted to somehow capture the moment, so I found a nearby aspen tree and tied my ever-present camera to a branch, set the self timer and hurried to get in the picture just as I pulled a fish from the water.  Below are the results.

Not the biggest one of the day and therefore released for someone to catch another day.  I'm still pretty fast for my age.  I am having more trouble at night though.  No longer can I turn off the light and be in be in bed before the room gets dark.  Those were the days.

The view from the near the gate at Camp Bartlett looking south and east toward Liberty and Lanark, my old stopping grounds with blue waters of  Bear Lake in the distance.