A Confluence

“Stay close”, Lyla said sternly.

She eyed Gracie knowingly before giving her the nod to jump out of the car. Gracie immediately shot for the path leading into the preserve, but turned her head just before the entrance to make sure her mom was following.

“Good girl”, she said, pointing straight ahead to confirm the direction. Gracie’s black and tan legs moved gracefully as she slowed to a trot.

This wasn’t their first time walking there, but it wasn’t their usual spot, either. Lyla liked to change up their hikes; she grew bored easily. The two of them had been to this specific spot a handful of times, and Lyla was particularly fond of it for it’s beautiful, boundless forest. Gracie enjoyed it for all of it’s wonderful scents.

They headed down the main path that was about three feet wide. Gracie was in the lead, of course, tail wagging and nose to the ground. Lyla was trying to enjoy the view while watching her step over rocks and roots. Mountain laurels, oaks, pines, and burning bush flanked their sides. She could feel the magnitude of the forest.

The path grew steeper.

“Darn”, she murmured. Should have brought my inhaler. Lyla trudged up the inclining slope, trying to keep up her momentum. Gracie was still bounding along, paying no mind to the massive hill they were climbing.

 The path curved ahead and it looked like it plateaued, but Lyla remembered that it was an illusion, and in fact just the halfway point. She stopped to catch her breath and gazed upward, dreading the rest of the climb. Gracie had nearly reached the top.

“Stay close”, she said again. Gracie pretended not to hear.

By the time Lyla reached the top of the slope, Gracie was nowhere in sight. 

“Gracieeee, here!”

No response. This was not unusual behavior. Lyla continued walking while keeping an ear open to Gracie’s metal tags jingling. One of which had her name and cell phone number on it, just in case. 

The path began to narrow as the vegetation grew denser around. It seemed to be damper at this elevation. Moss and ferns were growing more frequently, and Lyla could hear a gushing creek somewhere in the distance. 

“Graciee, now!”, she tried again. She heard rustling about thirty feet to her left, but didn’t get her hopes up. Could be a squirrel, or could be Gracie chasing a squirrel. Time would tell. 

Lyla reached a split in the path, and hesitated before choosing a direction. Gracie was a hound dog, for sure, and usually had no problem tracking down Lyla’s scent to catch up with her again. But it still made her nervous.

She stopped, called her, and listened. Nothing. The path to the left was rockier, smaller, and winding. It intrigued Lyla. She started up it, climbing over stones and dodging puddles of water. It had rained hard the day before, not the best timing for a hike. 

Lyla heard something rushing up behind her; she swung around quickly and stuck her hand out in a stop symbol. Gracie skidded to a halt just before colliding into her mom. She was filthy, covered in mud and torn leaves. She was also sopping wet, and did a huge shake that splattered Lyla with muck. 

“Where were you?!” Gracie was panting, with a huge grin on her face.

“Don’t look so smug, Gracie. I’m mad at you.” 

Lyla continued walking, putting her hand out at her side, signaling Gracie to heel behind her. Gracie was a good listener only when she wanted to be, and trotted obediently behind.

The gurgle of the creek was getting louder, and Lyla hoped that the path she’d chosen would run along the edge of it. She wished the mountain laurels were blooming, but it was still a few weeks too early. There was the occasional swatch of yellow from forsythia, which brought her pins of joy. 

Lyla noticed that Gracie had once again passed her, but was staying within an acceptable distance. She let it slide.

The path split again; Gracie waited impatiently at the intersection for Lyla to decide the direction. Turning left would make sense, go back in the general direction of the parking lot. At this point they had been walking for about forty minutes, so it would be smart to head back around.

But something seemed to call her from the right, to explore deeper. She pointed that way, and Gracie took the lead.

Lyla’s attention was drawn to a tingling sensation in her hands. Almost as if they had fallen asleep, but it was quieter, more subtle. It was not unpleasant. She listened and noticed that a hush seemed to have enveloped them. She couldn’t hear any birds, critters, or wind rustling in the trees. But there was energy. She focused harder and noticed a soft hum.

Gracie slowed down, too. She was still ahead of Lyla, but suddenly stopped and lifted her front left paw, as she does when she finds an intriguing scent. Her head was cocked to one side, though, as if she was uncertain or curious.

  When Lyla caught up to her they continued down the path together, with softer, more deliberate steps. The pathway continued to narrow further, so much so that Lyla had to dodge and pull stray branches away that threatened her face. They filed one by one through the thicket, hardly being able to see more than a few feet ahead of them as the path was winding more so than ever.

The hum grew louder.

“Stay close,” Lyla murmured. There didn’t seem to be any objection. 

The tingling sensation spread up her arms and to her torso. It was warm; she welcomed it. Gracie stopped walking again, which forced Lyla to bump into her. There was not enough room to pass her. 

“Come on, Gray”, she said. Gracie looked back at her, took a few more steps, then stopped. Lyla paused and listened. She felt curiously at ease. 

They continued. 

Within a few moments, the dense, hudled trail seemed to expand. The bushes were not so encroaching, the trees not so looming. Even the ground seemed steadier. More and more light began to speckle in. 

The trail then opened into the most beautiful clearing, filled with an inspiring golden hue. Huge pines, oaks, and spruces outlined the perimeter, and in the far corner a creek was running south. An assortment of mossy rocks lined the edges of the brook, and the water looked glacially clear. The clearing itself was filled with luscious, deep green grass, about half a foot high.

Gracie immediately dashed in, bolted to the creek, and splashed in the icy water. She dunked her head a few times, and bounded up and down with her long, athletic legs. Her grin was endless.

Lyla moved slower, taking in her surroundings. She gazed upward and outward in awe, feeling the energy course through her. She went to the center and laid down, palms facing the earth. The vibrations coming up rumbled through her body.

Her eyes closed.

Gleaming colors came into her vision, starting with a bright orange, and melting into light green, violet, and pale cherry. They swirled and tumbled like gusts of wind, until they settled on a soft honey hue. 

Then the voices came. They whispered, more than one, in a language that was fluid and dream-like. They formed a melody that danced with one another, quite gracefully. Lyla felt herself being drawn into their magnetism.

 She was bliss. 

The sound of Gracie’s deep bark brought her back to reality. Opening her eyes, she realized that Gracie was standing next to her, and it was considerably darker. She sat up and looked around.

The sun was hidden behind the tree line, and it seemed that they were well on their way to twilight. She felt cold and damp, and all of the energy that rushed through her had vanished. She stood up and realized that the meadow they were in though pretty, no longer seemed otherworldly. 

Gracie was already at the opening to the path, clearly ready to get home to dinner. Lyla took in one last sweep of her surroundings, and followed.

The following day they returned back, and replicated the same hike. From the main path, one left turn and then a right. They found no meadow. They did it again later that week, and then three times in the following. Still, no matter how long they spent out walking, and how certain Lyla was of the original route, they could not seem to find it. 

They continued to explore other preserves in the area, as well as revisiting ones of the past. They were both always happy to enjoy the outdoors, but Lyla yearned to repeat her unexplainable experience. She hoped one day to be pulled down the same path, and to enter the blissful light. 

Time would tell.