When the world starts falling apart, it is all we can do to find something in which to lose ourselves.  Amidst all the painful moments in my life over the past couple of years, I’ve found reasons to smile, to keep moving on.  Justin has helped me through so much, though I fear in the process I’ve pulled him down a few rungs into my own personal hell, he seems happy to roast here with me giving little complaint.  

My job requires long hours spent on my sofa, stuck inside the confines of my small house.  My hands glide over plastic keys, tapping away the seconds of my life.  For hours at a time I sit in silence, not realizing I could flip on the television and drown out the tapping.  I become entranced: tap, tap, tap, tap…seconds, minutes, hours pass me by.  My eyes glass over and I realize that I’ve left myself behind somewhere forgotten.

Body filled with the toxic leftovers of the day, I find myself escaping to another world, one untouched by the negative energy of the modern age, a place I have known since childhood, loved my entire life.  When the build-up of techno-toxin is too great, I can escape here, lost in the deep sandstone canyons cool with morning mist.  I can breathe in the scents of the woods, hear the cries of rare birds and the scuffling of tiny reptile claws under the bark of ancient trees.  I love Turkey Run, as much as anyone can love a place, maybe more.

I easily drag Justin along with me, week after week.  He goes willingly, though often reminding me, “This was your idea.”  He knows that I need this escape, I think on some level, he also needs Turkey Run.

I find myself now planning yet another trek into the wooded abyss, longing to explore every path and trail.  I vow to brave high heat and humidity just to catch a breath of fresh air.  I drag with me any willing hiker into this world in hopes that they too can find themselves falling in love with Turkey Run.

The Suspension Bridge at Turkey Run