In spite of the pink fluffy trees and the sunshiny weekends, I’ve found myself feeling funky these past few weeks.  No single thing has me down, but a handful of stresses and sadnesses have left me anxious and blue.  And I noticed over the weekend that I wasn’t just being mopey and withdrawn, I was being impatient with Jules and cold toward Shane.  It was time to nip this funk in the bud.  I needed a reboot, a little time to introspect, a day off.
I’m pretty scroogey with my vacation days, hoarding my time off for…what, exactly?  A spur-of-the-moment three-week trip to Paris?  Ha!  I figured I could spare a day for the sake of self-care and told my team on Tuesday afternoon that I’d catch them on Thursday.  Now…what to do with nine luxurious hours of freedom?  I thought about going shopping or working on a house project or just staying in bed all day with a book, but decided I’d mix things up and head to the mountains for a hike.  I dropped Juliette off at daycare on Wednesday morning and drove east to the Little Si trailhead in North Bend, feeling so very Carpe Diem-ish.
Shane and I hiked this trail back in 2009, but I’d forgotten how rugged it was. Â Or maybe I’d just forgotten what hiking is really like? Â I mean, it’s been awhile. Â Still, scrambling over those rocks felt good – I was 36 pounds lighter without a toddler in tow!
Brace yourselves – it was a moss bonanza out there I got shutter-happy trying to capture the infinite shades of green.
Seriously though, this moss!
Finally, just as my ankles started to get wobbly and my knees started to ache, the light at the end of the tunnel…
Satisfaction.
This guy took my spot…
Not to worry though – I found another monster of a rock a little further up that had my name on it.  I pulled out an apple and just sat, the crunch of my Fuji seeming like the only sound for miles.
After 15 minutes of lonesome zen, I was joined by another couple who recommended that I check out the Boulder Garden Loop on my way back down. Â I took swig from my water bottle and was off.
Something about the word “garden” in Boulder Garden Loop conjured up images of easy, meandering, flat pathways. Â WRONG.
But I huffed and I puffed to another summit and then flew down the hill, satisfyingly bone-tired by the time I reached the car.
This little out-of-character foray into the woods did me a world of good – I’m not completely funk-free, but I’m on the path toward gratitude and contentedness. Â And let me tell you, that path is covered in moss.