Quehanna Sunrise / Golden Klimtian Dreams

Morning arrived at our back-country campsite in the Quehanna Wild Area's Valley of the Elk. The temperature never dropped into the 30s overnight, and conditions were relatively dry, so when we got up, our camping gear was not even damp. 

When I saw the pink light starting around 7 a.m., I was awake, and shortly after that, I was out of my sleeping bag and tent and running to the edge of the woods for some photos. Please enjoy the shot above of Quehanna's pink and purple dawn.

We did not hurry, but took our time, and hung out at our campsite in the pines until around 1:30, when we had our gear all packed into and onto our packs, and we began our walk out, back to the car, to food and drink and - eventually, but not TOO soon - civilization.

The journey back to the car was several miles, and about a mile into it, we came upon a beautiful monarch butterfly. It met us at a corner by the creek, on a little hill overlooking our valley. My husband made some sort of exclamation and I looked up to see the butterfly, hovering and dancing in front of him.

It was good timing, as we had just been talking about my big sister Barb, the butterfly girl. I was reminiscing about some dreams she had that were never realized in this world. For if there is one thing that a recent death (or two) does to you is that it brings back all of the other prior deaths in your life. 

But I was feeling wistful on this beautiful day, and maybe even a little sad, thinking about it. I miss Barb. There are things she wanted to do in this life that she never got to do. I don't know what to do with all of that. I can't make peace with it.

But then the butterfly came dancing, and it hung between us, went back and forth between us, in fact, and ended up dancing some more in the air beside my husband. I did not reach for the camera, because I knew there was no percentage in the shot. I didn't want to waste a single second even TRYING.

So I just stood there, practically HOWLING WITH GLEE, and shouting out loud, to Heaven above, where everyone I love who has left me lives now: "WONDERFUL!!! WONDERFUL!!! OH HOW ABSOLUTELY WONDERFUL!!!!!" The simple lesson: choose JOY. And then the perfect, beautiful, orange butterfly, having done its part, took off for parts unknown! :-)

We always try to fit a few small walks in when we visit Quehanna, and one of the jet cell test bunkers is a favorite hike, so that is where we went next, after loading all of our gear into the car. The bunker closest to Reactor Road is the longer walk with the neater things to see, so we went there.

And had a lovely walk in, and sat in the glorious late afternoon sunshine that turned all the trees and all the leaves and all the reflections to gold. So please enjoy the photo in the extras, of the golden Klimtian dreams of this day: gold, scattered and reflected upon the waters of the nearby containment pond. Oh, glory glory glory!

On our walk back out to the car, we ran into three people, at least two of them holding rather large pumpkins. The light was just about done, but they were heading back to the bunker, I thought. 

I told them the bunker was open to go inside; my husband told them they had the area all to themselves. But back at the car, I thought: What were they doing, taking pumpkins there? Hmm? A weird photo shoot? A Halloween ritual of some kind? I turned to my husband: "Pumpkins! They're taking their pumpkins for a walk! And you think *I'm* strange," I admonished him, shaking my head.

Well, it's hard - in fact, almost impossible - to leave Quehanna when the colors are singing like this. But leave we must. So back to the car we went, and eventually we got home, and unpacked everything, and heated up and ate the good chili we'd bought at Benton's in Karthaus the day before, loaded with melted cheese and fresh sour cream, and with buttered crackers on the side. Oh nom!

And this brings us to the end of our Quehanna backpack, more's the pity we had to leave. As it turns out, I don't know the answers to all of the world's big questions, but I do know the answers to a few of the little ones. 

Enjoy the beautiful autumn days. Hang out with the ones you love. Eat the good food. Live, laugh, love. Celebrate your days. Oh, and when the butterflies dance on a faraway hill in the wildest of places, far from the things of man, by all means, go and dance with them!

I want some songs to go with this, and here are three. First, for the amazing dawn sky show, I've got John Denver, with Farewell Andromeda (Welcome to My Morning). For the wonderful butterfly show (sorry, no photo, just a moment of total JOY), Sam Cooke, with Wonderful World. And for my golden Klimtian dream in the extras, I've got Neil Young, with Heart of Gold.