Places of the Heart
My place of the heart is not a specific plot of ground that can be defined by GPS coordinates but rather the magnificent forest surrounding Flagstaff. The vanilla-scented sap flowing through an especially old, mature ponderosa not only delights my nasal senses but also stirs a lifetime of memories amongst the trees. The fragrance can remind me of lazy summer evening picnics high on the San Francisco Peaks or transport me back to my wedding day many Augusts ago at the edge of an aspen grove.
One bright day while hiking through the forest, I came upon a handsome horny toad, a mountain short-homed lizard to the biologist. The flat-bodied lizard bristled with pointed scales. It waddled up onto a ponderosa log. where the juxtaposition of its gray-blue, spikes were in remarkable contrast to the orange, rounded jigsaw puzzle pieces of pine bark. A hint of late sunset colors on the lizard's dorsum matched some of the tree's color. Animal and plant blended together as rich and varied as an impressionist painting.
The spirit of the forest and its creatures instills in me a sense of wonder and tranquility. Even if I did have an exact place in mind, I probably wouldn't reveal it. Personal discovery is much more fulfilling then following someone else's map. Each of us can find our own special place of the heart.