Nature Boy: Life Goes On By Shaun Roundy

Nature Boy
Life Goes On
By Shaun Roundy

Fifteen minutes ago,
I was hot and thirsty and dry.
Ten miles in the desert
Can make you forget
Any comfort
You ever knew.

Ten miles of hot, dusty trail have led me to the campground at Havasupai Falls below the Grand Canyon’s South Rim. Three years have passed since the Foresteros camped and climbed and skied once a week. Two and a half years have passed since five of us left home at midnight, on the spur of the moment, to sleep in snowcaves. Spencer left a note on his bed for his mom, but she didn't find it. The next day when I got to the English Department where Spencer's mother and I both worked, everyone was concerned about what had become of him and why he hadn't made it home. Spencer later moved to Norway for two years and I haven't seen him since.

Fifteen minutes ago,
I was tired, aching and sore.
Thirty-five pounds on your back
Can work its weight
All the way
Into your ankles and knees
And shoulders.

I’ve dropped my pack in the sand to rest sore muscles and joints. I’ve hiked with a slight limp the past few miles and it feels good to take a rest. It feels good to know I’m almost there and can take it easy for the next few days.

Fifteen minutes ago,
I found a waterfall,
One hundred fifty feet of froth,
A bright blue pool
Of cool, clear water.

Navajo Falls pounds the pool’s surface relentlessly. The breeze caused by the falling river sends a refreshing spray to where I sit on the beach. I strip off my shirt and shoes, then dive in.

A liquid sun dances above me,
Sparkles on the stained glass surface.
Holding my breath,
The waterfall's thunder
Is a pleasant pounding
Against my brain and body.
I'm swimming invisible corridors,
Slippery wet currents
Skimming bare skin.
I'm sliding upstream,
Gliding like a fish,
Clean and naked.

I pulled off the highway for dinner twenty hours and five hundred miles ago. On my way to the cashier, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

"Shaun?" a dark-haired girl asked. I looked at her for a moment before recognizing her as Spencer’s cousin.

"Hey, Sheri, what a surprise. What are you doing in St. George?"

"I’m on my way up to Logan for Spencer’s funeral."

Life as a castaway
Sounds so appealing
Lying in sand,
A hundred miles from anywhere.
The distance drifts away
In the cool water at my feet,
Draining from my tired body,
Dripping into the warm sandy beach,
Evaporating in a perfect
Blue sky.

It took a few days for anyone to even realize Spencer was gone. Search and Rescue finally found his body at the base of a cliff where he had been hiking alone in a canyon above Salt Lake City. This time there was no note left behind on his bed.

I've long since forgotten
My dusty old pack,
Sitting on shore
Where I dropped it.
I'll sleep here tonight.

Near the falls, I duck underwater and swim against the strong current that won’t let me get any closer to where the falls and pool churn together. The rumble of water reverberates through my body and brain. I can’t believe he’s really gone.

Funny the way
Life turns the tables
With one quick twist of the trail.
Let's hope the falls lie before you,
The desert sun and sand
At your back.

I crawl back onto shore and flop down in the sand, refreshed but still breathing hard from the swim. The thunder of the falls echoes from the cliffs. The blue sky hangs still overhead. The sun shines down and warms my skin. Life goes on. Something about it doesn’t quite make sense.

Never stop walking.
Run if you like.
I'll wait for you here
If you promise to come

Life goes on and that’s all I can say.

University of Life Home | High Adventure Coalition | Writing Center | LDS Singles Network | FreeHomeShop.com