I haven’t had a swim all summer – and it’s been two years since I swam in my favorite simming hole, Lake Padden. So today, as I was driving back from my walk on the boardwalk, I impulsively drove past the exit to I-5 and drove up to Lake Padden. I took off my hearing aids, left my purse and camera in the car, and walked fully-cothed down to the lake, then into the lake up to my knees, then above my knees, and then I dove under the water and came up smiling. I swam out a little ways and then flipped over onto my back and just floated there, looking up at the blue of the sky and the green leaves flickering in the sunshine on the alder trees above me, and I was completely and totally happy. I wasn’t out there long. I swam back to shore and walked, dripping wet, back to my car. I found a couple of fleece jackets that I used to cover the driver’s seat and drove home, grinning. -Karen Molenaar Terrell
I slipped out of the house early on Sunday to give myself a quick walk on the Bellingham boardwalk – I wanted to go on my walk before the streets got busy; finding a parking space became a challenge; and the temperature became uncomfortable. I have found, on my Bellingham walks, that the early morning holds a peace and special beauty.
It was quiet and the boardwalk was mostly empty when I started my walk just before 8:00. But as I got closer to Boulevard Park I started seeing more people, and more pups, too. And this is when I met Wally, and his human, Beth. Wally was special – I recognized that immediately. An older gent of a dog, he made his slow way across the boardwalk to greet me and to let me pet him. My heart melted. I asked Beth to tell me about Wally – what was Wally’s story? She told me that her husband had found Wally when he’d been out on a snowmobile ride near Yakima ten years ago. Wally had been young then – maybe two – and he was starving and abandoned and eating from a deer carcass when her husband came upon him. Wally was in a bad way. Her husband brought him home where he and Beth nursed Wally back to health. When Wally was well again, her husband said it was probably time to find him a home. To which Beth replied, “I think he already has one.”
As Beth told his story, Wally – who Beth said was part beagle and part pitbull – let me scratch him behind the ears and pet him. I was filled with gratitude that Beth’s husband had found Wally and that Life had brought Wally to a home with good people who loved him.
As I was talking to Beth, another dog and his humans approached from the other end of the boardwalk, and this is when I met dapper little Hans. Hans and Wally quickly got acquainted in the fashion of dogs and I snapped both their photos.
After Hans and his humans left, a man coming from the direction of the park with a coffee cup in his hand, cheerily greeted Beth like they were old friends. He said everyone knows Beth and Wally and joined us for a friendly chat. The man introduced himself as “Cash” and we talked for a bit about his name. He said “Cash” was his middle name and that his first name was actually “Petty.” Beth immediately started cracking up. I’m embarrassed to admit it took me an extra second to put “Petty” and “Cash” together and realize that Cash was having fun with his name. I introduced myself as “Karen” then and we had some fun with MY name for a while, too.
After chatting a bit more with these fine people, and giving Wally one last pet, I continued on my walk to the other end of the park. As I was coming back from the far end, I saw a photographer had taken up position on the beach and was taking pictures of a woman doing yoga poses. I looked at the photographer, who was holding a position that demanded some strength and balance, and thought, “There’s an athlete!” – and then I stopped short. Her face had the exact same profile as a friend I’d worked with forty years ago on Mount Rainier. I knew my friend’s daughter, Freya, was a photographer now in Bellingham, and that she was also, by a wonderful coincidence, the partner of the son of one of my Dad’s old climbing buddies, Jim Whittaker. I don’t think I’d seen Freya since she was a baby – more than thirty years ago – but I suddenly just knew that I was looking at a grown-up Freya now. “Is this Freya?!” I asked. And she looked up at me and smiled her mother’s smile and confirmed her identity. WHOAH. I quickly introduced myself as “Dee Molenaar‘s daughter” and her mother’s old friend from Rainier. I told her she looked just like her mom – that that’s how I’d recognized her. Freya laughed and smiled and graciously let me snap a quick picture of her before she got back to work.
Running into Freya in the park was cosmic, my friends – a wonderful gift and reminder of the connections we all share with each other.
As I was leaving the park and heading back on the boardwalk I heard someone yell, “Karen!” I looked ahead of me, I looked behind me, I looked up in the trees (because I would not be surprised to find my friends hanging out in trees), and finally saw my friend and former teaching colleague, Elizabeth, waving her arms from the park. I hurried back to the park to give my friend a hug. It was good to see Elizabeth again – another gift on my early morning walk. -Karen Molenaar Terrell
Sauk Mountain and I have a long history together. The first time I hiked up Sauk was in 1985. I would have been 28 or 29 then. My husband was working as a photographer for the Skagit Valley Herald and he took a photo of me on Sauk, with the caption, “Hiker Karen Terrell negotiates a switchback on Sauk Mountain.” A few years later I climbed to the top of Sauk with my dad, Dee Molenaar, who would have been in his seventies. I have a photo of me standing on Sauk with Dad, both of us smiling at the joy of being together in the mountains. When we became parents, Sauk Mountain was one of the first hikes Scott and I took our sons on. And our dog, Sam, went up as a puppy and, later, as a full-grown Labradane in her prime. Sauk holds a lot of sweet memories for me.
This has been a busy summer – our calendar looks like an obstacle course of comings and goings – appointments, lunches, events, zoom meetings, trips – good and important things – but, alas, other than a quick little hike at Artist Point, it’s been hard to find time to get back into the mountains, and I’ve missed them something terrible. Our busy schedule sometimes left me feeling frustrated this summer – feeling like my time was running out – and I reached out to God, Love, in my thoughts to find some comfort. The message that came to me was to be patient and wait. The time would come. Love isn’t limited and Life isn’t ever done giving gifts.
This weekend my brother, Dave, and my niece, Claire, visited us. On Saturday they ran in a 14-mile race near Issaquah and then spent Saturday and Sunday nights with us. On Sunday morning, as we were gathered around the table eating breakfast, I mentioned that I was missing the mountains and longing for a good hike. Scott wasn’t able to come with us, but he suggested that maybe the three of us should go up Sauk. Dave looked at me and asked, “You wanna go?” And boom – just like that – I had the opportunity to be back in the mountains on one of my favorite hikes, with my brother and niece – two of my favorite people!
It had been almost 40 years since I FIRST hiked up Sauk Mountain and two years since the LAST time I’d hiked it. A lot had happened in the last two years – and, to be honest, I wasn’t sure how my body was going to feel about me putting it back on the Sauk Mountain trail. I was a little nervous that it was going to rebel. In the past I’ve had some struggles when it gets too hot, and it was going to be a hot day and we were going to be hitting the trail near noon. And… people of my age are sometimes referred to as “elderly” – so the thought, “I’m old!” was poking around in my head. Also: “I’m heavy!” “I’m old and I’m heavy and I don’t do well in the heat.”
But…
God had just presented me with a gift – a gift I had been pining for and prayed for – and how could I not accept it? And if the gift came from Love – how could it bring conditions with it? All I needed to do was accept this gift and enjoy it. All those other things – age and size and heat – were just obstacles of my imagining and couldn’t stop Love’s unfolding of Good.
It didn’t take us long to fill our backpacks with the essentials and head out the door. We loaded ourselves into Dave’s truck, Dusty, and set out for the mountains.
When we got to the trailhead, Dave, an ultra runner, made sure Claire and I had everything we needed and then ran ahead. While he zipped up to the summit, and then ran back to check on us before he headed out again – this time for Sauk Lake – Claire and I made our way up the switchbacks of the southern face, stopping now and then to take photos or rest in the few shady patches under the trees to rehydrate. Claire and Dave had never been up Sauk before, and it brought me a lot of joy to be the one to introduce them to this hike. When we reached the top of the switchbacks and moved to the other side of the mountain – my favorite part of the hike – it brought a grin to my face when I heard Claire exclaim, “It just keeps getting better and better!”
The hills were full of magic, my friends! Insects flitted among the alpine wildflowers – Indian paintbrush, asters, and bluebells; there was the smell of mountain heather and ozone; there were friendly, happy people sharing the trail with us; patches of snow, and craggly boulder ridges, and green meadows, and butterflies that came together to party in the middle of the trail. It was everything and more than I’d hoped for. And all those worries that had tried to limit me – age, size, heat – had no power to stop me from enjoying the gift of this day in the mountains.
Here are some photos of “Sauks Past”: Dad and me; Scott and the sons and me, circa 1996; Scott and me on Sauk, several years ago; and Scott and Sam Dog. And there’s a picture of Dave and Claire and me on this week’s hike…
And here are some photos from our hike this week…
Mount Baker from Sauk MountainThe switchbacks up Sauk.Indian paintbrush flowers brighten the meadow.
I sit in the shade of alder trees A soft breeze off the lake fans my face and arms Sky blue dragonflies wing in a dance among the tall grasses beside the water Peace
It says 3:33 on the clock beside the bed and when I look at the clock sideways I see birds flying on the canvas in my head. I think, “Somewhere in the world a new life has just been born!” I’m filled with hope – not “hoping-for-the-best” hope, but expectancy- of-good hope – hope bigger and vaster, reaching me faster than the speed of light. -Karen Molenaar Terrell
Love’s celebration feel the joy surrounding you never-ending Life -Karen Molenaar Terrell
Lately these memories have kept coming up – memories of times I was treated unfairly, bullied, ridiculed, misjudged, betrayed by people I trusted and loved (the kinds of things probably most people have experienced at some point) – and it was painful for me. But I knew there was some lesson I was supposed to get from these memories – something I still needed to learn from the past – so, this time, I didn’t just try to dance around them – I let the memories do what they needed to do for me. And then today this thought came to me: “What is it you think you’re lacking here? Do you not think you have enough love? Do you feel like you’ve been denied something you should have had, but didn’t?” And that caught me up short and I found myself shaking my head at my ricidulousness and laughing out loud. And I realized there was NEVER a moment when I lacked love – or when I lacked ANYthing real and good in my life! My life has overflowed with love! I am, and always have been, wealthy beyond fathoming with love! I’ve never been on the outside of Love and NOTHING has or ever could separate me from Love, God.
grape vines ripped out from the protective cocoon by human hands that don’t realize the secret hidden inside what they prune mama gently grabs her baby In her mouth and climbs through the briar branches – a tunnel of sweet roses, thorns, and twigs and scurries and hurries to find a new home for her little one she pauses once as the human looks at her and softly says, “Hello there!” in awe and wonder and then she continues on her journey to make a new nest for her little rat kit in the roses, thorns, and twigs -Karen Molenaar Terrell
When you share your rainbow photo – and I share mine – we are adding to what we both perceive – connecting to the divine. I share my words and you share your art and we bring each other into a bigger part of the Whole. If what we are is beyond our bodies and includes everything we perceive – then sharing our perceptions with each other helps us to conceive something bigger; helps us leave the limits of our own limited points of view – helps us see a bigger picture of what is whole and true. -Karen Molenaar Terrell
(Rainbow over a barn in Bow, WA. Karen Molenaar Terrell.)
Rainbow Over Padilla Bay. Photo by Karen Molenaar Terrell.
Adventures of the Madcap Christian Scientist 