contemporary class

Lara Nelson

Dance 140

Space Journal Entry

There is a certain place in this world that is green and wild, that sits in the middle of the Cascades in Washington. It’s called Rachel Lake. It’s about a four-mile hike to the Lake. There are switchbacks in the beginning, but not for more than half a mile. We walked though fields of berries, though the woods in the shade, then up and up to the top. Rachel Lake itself is a beautiful clear-water lake full of fish. It’s a big lake, but only half of it has a shoreline, while the other half meets a cliff.

In my family, once we were old enough, we would climb to the lake every summer. It was by far the favorite summer activity. At the very end of the hike you come over a steep hill and walk down through some trees until you can see the lake. The water sparkles. It’s breathtaking. We would spend three days up there, hiking around, fishing, eating, and enjoying each other’s company. Night was my favorite time, though I was petrified of what might be in the dark. We were far enough up and away from civilization that the sky would be covered in stars so that we could see by their light. That is the first place that I saw the Milky Way. I would lie on the beach, or sit on a boulder that protruded into the water, and watch the night sky. I would listen to the sound the wind made in the trees. I played with the water. I surveyed the beaches. I dreamt of coming there the next summer, and dreamt of my future. I found a little piece of me in that wilderness while everyone was asleep. I fell in love with that lake and with the earth.

It’s been years since I’ve been back, but I take every opportunity I can to escape the hustle and bustle of everyday life to sit in the still quiet of the earth and just breathe in the peace that feels so tangible. It is when I am in that open space that I feel most connected to the earth and to my Heavenly Father, and also somehow a closeness to my own Dad. I remember the scripture: “Be still and know that I am God.” I sit, and I can’t help but feel so passionately that this world is His, and that He really /is/. In those nights, I just know.