As is my practice when it is cool outside, I sit in my office to meditate. This morning was an indoor meditation even though the sun was out. Then, it was time for breakfast. With the morning meal out of the way, we got ready for our daily countryside hiking. We began the walk wearing wind jackets because of the cool northern breeze. By the 3 kilometre mark, the jackets were ditched, tossed onto the side of the road to be picked up on our way back home.
We walked longer than our planned 10 KM hike, going an extra two kilometres as it was so beautiful out. As we walked, three Pronghorn antelope crossed the road in front of us before stopping to stare. Seeing no threat, they decided to slowly meander as they fed. We often see deer and antelope on our walks here on the prairies. On the return, we decided against picking up the jackets as it was hot out. The plan was for me to return with the truck and pick them up. It was a plan I readily accepted. I had a plan.
After lunch, I drove to pick up the jackets and kept driving until I had reached a point about 800 metres further than we had walked in the morning. It was the place I usually parked when I wanted to walk the prairie hills, free-hiking. Of course that means hiking without my shorts on. My destination was to find a place for a second meditation, one that would be in full sunlight. I carried a small backpack with blanket and pillow for my meditation, as well as my shorts in case I came across a rare farmer or oilfield worker.
About a kilometre and a half into my naturist hike, I found the perfect location for meditation. From my seat on the table-sized stone, I could see a distant lake, as well as the prairie hills. I set my meditation time on the tablet and was able to slip into the best meditation that I’ve had in a long time. The time slipped by without my head creating too much chatter. I knew I would be returning to this stone many times during the summer.
And then, with meditation done. I continued to walk down the dirt trail as I wanted to measure the distance to my turn around point, a sign that proclaims, “Road Closed.” The walk back to the truck was a bit more brisk that the first half. The final distance five kilometres, or in different measuring terms – thirty minutes of sunshine, both back and front. Bliss!