Recently I was blessed with the opportunity to accompany Dad on a trip into Siberia in the Mount Aspiring National Park near Wanaka. It was a stunningly beautiful place and a really special time to spend a few moments with Dad. In the beginning I felt quite frustrated with the time it took Dad to do things, it would be so much easier if I did them myself. It was a lesson in patience that gave me a greater understanding and appreciation of what Mum and Olivia experience as well as a greater understanding and appreciation of Dad. What started as frustrating became quite humbling.
Dad's still the same old Dad, it just takes patience and understanding to see it and to allow him to continue to experience life to the fullest, albeit at a slower more awkward pace. He still loves the mountains, still loves sharing his tramping and climbing experiences with others, and is still full of wise words and interesting stories for those who are willing to listen.
The first evening in Siberia was a stunning still and clear night. Sitting out under the watch of snow capped mountains I scribbled a few lines of poetry. I don't profess to be an avid writer of poetry but I thought I would share some of what I wrote.
Surrounded by beauty
Majesty
My heart stills
My mind escapes
The sky a blank slate
Snow capped mountains its frame
As day ends clouds creep slowly
Over distant heights
The sun warms a soul that's been cold for too long
I look to the hills,
Where does my strength come from?
My hope it comes from the Lord
As sun fades behind misty mountains and the sparkle in the babbling water dies
I cry out to the creator, the author
My saviour
“There are no safe paths in this part of the world. Remember you are over the Edge of the Wild now, and in for all sorts of fun wherever you go.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit
Dad's still the same old Dad, it just takes patience and understanding to see it and to allow him to continue to experience life to the fullest, albeit at a slower more awkward pace. He still loves the mountains, still loves sharing his tramping and climbing experiences with others, and is still full of wise words and interesting stories for those who are willing to listen.
The first evening in Siberia was a stunning still and clear night. Sitting out under the watch of snow capped mountains I scribbled a few lines of poetry. I don't profess to be an avid writer of poetry but I thought I would share some of what I wrote.
Surrounded by beauty
Majesty
My heart stills
My mind escapes
The sky a blank slate
Snow capped mountains its frame
As day ends clouds creep slowly
Over distant heights
The sun warms a soul that's been cold for too long
I look to the hills,
Where does my strength come from?
My hope it comes from the Lord
As sun fades behind misty mountains and the sparkle in the babbling water dies
I cry out to the creator, the author
My saviour
“There are no safe paths in this part of the world. Remember you are over the Edge of the Wild now, and in for all sorts of fun wherever you go.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit