A Fleeting Moment in Time

Many years ago, during my first long hike on the Appalachian Trail in New Hampshire, I witnessed a fleeting moment of beauty that has never left me.

Late one day, after an easy ten miles, I began to search for a place to rest for the night. About a mile or so beyond a small town, I happened upon an empty cabin about fifty yards off the trail. Inside, the uninviting shelter was dark and cold. I dropped my gear and settled in and resigned myself to a night in the woods alone.

After a light dinner, I felt an urge to get away from the cold gloom of that inhospitable place, and so I left it to take a walk toward an open field on a hillside that was surrounded by thick woods. As I approached the field, the light from the declining sun drew contrasting shadows against the bright yellows and greens of the long, uncut grass. It was a picture of tranquility and I was glad to discover it.

As I stood in the midst of this natural still-life, I became aware of three deer grazing above me on the hillside. They didn’t notice me, and so I quietly gazed on that scene of solitary beauty. Time seemed to suspend itself: even the wind briefly stood still. Just as quickly, though, a soft breeze cut across the scene and the deer lifted their heads in unison, sensing an intruder. They hesitated a moment and then vanished into the shadows of the surrounding woods. Once again, I was alone in a once bright place that was now turning cold as the ghostly dusk transformed the waning light into varying shades of grey.

Now, all these years later, I remember that beautiful scene as if it were an image painted by God himself. I felt the warmth of God’s peace that day, but I had to turn back to the cold embrace of the solitary cabin. I did not know then that the journey ahead would often be long and hard. Yet, wherever life took me, I carried with me that image of beauty and peace as sustenance for those times when I would experience hunger and thirst.