Letting go of things

Letting go of things

IMGP0373 In Telluride one is likely to see all styles of walking sticks: high tech ones by Leki, a broken branch picked up off the ground, or a fine piece of wood, maybe even laminated slices of hardwood carefully glued, sanded, finished. My stick (though it didn't start out mine) was a well balanced piece of hardwood. The original owner had seen a face in the head of the stick, had inlaid a pair of red glass eyes, small enough that you had to look for them, and the stick was beautiful, light and strong.

The point of all this is: I loved that stick. I found it alongside a popular trail, and stood it up against a tree. Several walks later past the same spot told me the previous owner was not coming back that way to reclaim his beautiful stick, and I took it home with me.

Some years passed without my using it, but one day I decided to try it out. As previously mentioned, I loved the stick, and it soon accompanied me on any walk involving some vertical. Four years of regular use had convinced me the stick was truly mine.

IMGP0484 Two weeks ago I was walking with our friend Eileen and a passel of dogs, and at a creek crossing where we lingered to let the dogs play in the water, I set my stick against a tree, and when we moved on, the stick was left behind. Time prevented my going back for it when I first noticed I'd left it. So, the next morning, early, I set out with Gina the Dog, my mission to recover my walking stick. When we got to the stream, the stick was nowhere to be found. I searched the area, in case I had forgotten where I left it… but no, the stick has a new owner, and I have to let it go. After all, that's how I got it in the first place.

To the new owner: use the stick in health, walk the world; the stick will be a good companion.

No Comments

Sorry, the comment form is closed at this time.