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Then the path turned and led us straight up a hill covered in wildflowers – mountain heather, Indian paintbrush, rosy spirea, yellow broadleaf arnica, bluebells, and more.
Sometimes, when a big thing is missing, little things have their chance to shine.
Last summer I hiked the Naches Peak Loop at Mount Rainier National Park with a group from the Auburn (Washington) Senior Activity Center. I’ve taken this hike before, and it’s always a thrill. There are enough ups and downs to make hearts pump, but the trail also holds long stretches of smooth, level ground – opportunities to pause, inhale the mountain air, and drink in the park’s beauty. Dramatic rock formations rise along one section of the path, telling the history of the volcano’s ancient eruptions. Mountain ponds reflect the evergreens and nearby peaks. On clear days, Mount Adams appears in the distance. This 3.5-mile trek is truly a nature lover’s paradise.
About halfway through the loop trail, the big payoff emerges. Hikers come around a bend and … BAM! Mount Rainier fills the horizon. It’s enough to take away anyone’s breath, no matter how many times they’ve seen The Mountain. Its glaciers sparkle and its massive bulk overwhelms even the most jaded hiker. On a sunny day, it’s dazzling.
On my last visit, however, the weather for the Naches Peak hike wasn’t ideal. Drizzle dotted the windows of the senior center van, and clouds drifted up from the valleys, obscuring views of the surrounding mountain peaks. Hike participants zipped up waterproof jackets and stretched covers over backpacks before we started up the trail. Wet weather doesn’t deter this group of seniors.
Low clouds lent an eerie beauty to Tipsoo Lake as we skirted its shore. Then the path turned and led us straight up a hill covered in wildflowers – mountain heather, Indian paintbrush, rosy spirea, yellow broadleaf arnica, bluebells, and more. Sometimes the varieties bloomed together in a multicolored bouquet, as if someone had taken a packet of assorted wildflower seeds and broadcast them in the wind. Other times, drifts of white bear grass or an ocean of blue lupine performed monochromatic shows. Wispy clouds rose from the meadows, softening the scene, obscuring the mountain after which the national park was named.
As I splashed through puddles, stepped carefully across slick rocks, and jumped over rivulets, I wondered why I’d never really noticed the wildflowers before. Had I hiked this trail at the wrong time of year? Had I been preoccupied by the need to avoid tripping over rocks or roots? Why were blooms at the center of my attention today? Then I realized what had happened. Since the star of the show – the omnipresent snowy slopes of Mount Rainier – had failed to make an appearance, my sights focused on the more pedestrian beauty right at my feet.
I think this is often true in life. We’re bombarded with important information – things that demand our attention – and we look past the smaller joys. When loud voices assault our ears, gentle whispers are lost in the clamor. Lowly wildflowers can be overlooked when the grandeur of a magnificent mountain dominates the scene.
I hope the vivid memories of Mount Rainier’s wildflowers will remind me to savor the little things that come my way when bigger things take center stage. If I pay attention, they can bring as much joy as nature’s more majestic creations.