It all started with a simple plan to get away and enjoy some of the beauty that this city has to offer. Naturally, one would think of the beach when talking about San Diego, but surprisingly enough the mountains have their own unique wonder that seemed to be calling to me. So, I packed up my camping gear and headed out for the Easter weekend. Little did I know what symbolic coincidences lay in store for me.
The campground I selected was a small out of the way place called Cibbets Flats - perfect for a small guy like myself. Those large campgrounds where people come with their motor homes and campers and have generators running, music blaring and any kind of noise other than what you should hear out in nature don't appeal to me. When all the electronic conveniences of home come tethered with you, you're not really camping. The outdoors should be a place where you can go to escape the hectic demands of our modern culture. Nearly gone are the days when one could just walk a few short miles and be completely surrounded by nature and all its beauty. Now we have to go to places where it has been fenced in and we are only allowed to walk in designated areas.
But, I digress … Back to my story. I also chose this place as my weekend stay because of the small stream that runs right through it. Normally this would be no more than a mere trickle, but due to the heavy rains and snowfall in the mountains, the water was flowing nicely. Upstream about half a mile is a nice spot where you can sit down on some flat rocks next to the river and listen to the melodic sounds of water cascading down the falls.
But, I digress … Back to my story. I also chose this place as my weekend stay because of the small stream that runs right through it. Normally this would be no more than a mere trickle, but due to the heavy rains and snowfall in the mountains, the water was flowing nicely. Upstream about half a mile is a nice spot where you can sit down on some flat rocks next to the river and listen to the melodic sounds of water cascading down the falls.
I took one of the days and headed upstream to the pools of water. The birds were chirping with gaiety in the trees as I sat alone and basked in the glow of the midday sun. I felt so connected to Mother Earth. I decided to walk out onto the rocks in the stream and soak my feet. The icy water soothed my body and brought me back home to my native Switzerland. I stood there and daydreamed, not a care in the world.
Then, before I knew what had happened, the water rushed by quicker than I was ready for, and I slipped and tumbled down the falls. I immediately fell unconscious and don't really know how long I was out.
When I came to, I was laying on my back on the side of the river looking up at the sky. The sun seemed to shine brighter than I had ever remembered it to do. I rolled over and propped myself up. I looked around and saw no one. Looking up again at the sun, it had returned to its previous natural state.
Now, as I said before, I am not a religious man. But how do you explain what just happened to me? And on Easter weekend no less. Almost 2000 years ago a man died on the cross and was raised three days later. I used to not believe that had happened. But now that I have gone through what I feel is a similar experience, I am wondering if it could be true. What I do know is that I have been reborn. Whereas I was one who would just go along with the flow of life, I now take control of my destiny.
This weekend's experience has taught me that life is too short and that it must be lived. So, this blog is to chronicle my adventures, whether they be large or small and even trivial. Because, you may never know when the river of life will rise up and sweep you downstream.
