We sat there, on the top of the Pinnacles in Pinnacles National Park, scanning the heavens for something we once almost lost. And there it was, wings spread wide, with slight tilt of its head: the California Condor. It really was a site to behold, one I’ll hold onto forever.
And there are many memories I’ll hold onto forever from Pinnacles: the drive in with lush green rolling hills, how dim light filtered into the caves, how the meadows looked housing wildflowers in bloom, how the woods put forth streams of light on my muddy boots, how many switchbacks there were climbing the Pinnacles, how many snakes we saw and almost stepped on, and painting facing the jagged rocks.
This was on a Friday morning when I stood with a paintbrush in hand in front of the Pinnacles, letting nature simply be while capturing the essence of my surroundings; it invited me to listen. And how important it is to listen, nature is perpetual by design, but not indestructible. What a great reminder, the California Condor is, that each of us have the power to preserve what is for our children and our children’s children.
It’s hard though, in a society of constant commotion and frenetic energy to do what nature demands of us. You see nature, while around us, does not come to you, you must go to it. Slow down, wait, and watch. Tell me, what is she telling you?