A Place to Belong
For all of my days on this earth I have always struggled to feel a sense of belonging. That feeling I watch others embrace whether it be a connection with their own family, their home town... Even with their homes. I've always felt like a wanderer - not the romantic kind, the adventure-fevered Instagram craze, just that deep restless feeling of not belonging where my feet are at in the now. The acceptance and peace that I've always craved in a foundational sense of belonging. I find solace in the quiet and loneliness of the mountains. Maybe it's a sense of my own smallness, the magnitude of those dark brooding shadows. I feel comfort feeling lost in the giant space. There is no placement, no territory, no tangible sense of mine, yours, theirs. It becomes a vast space that belongs to no one. And there I am able to feel at home.
When I was a kid we went camping as often as we were able. My Dad was a forest ranger for a long time before any of us kids entered the picture. He knew many off the path type of places, the best places that no one else seemed to know about. As we'd drive up the mountain side my Dad would point out things to us, instruct us to pay attention to our surroundings. He offered a small prize to the first one to spot a wild animal. Before the days of having cell phones, or movies playing in the car, this was the best way to make time pass - our eyes would stay glued to the window in hopes of spotting a buck peering through those dark shadowy trees.
At least we'd reach the 'special place'.The spot I remember the most was a secluded site far away from other campers. There nestled into the lap of the mountain itself, the perfect clearing. So picturesque in my mind I remember it clearly. An open space full of lush scrabbles of grass and gentle wildflowers. A small creek ran through it and against all sides was the slopes of the mountain itself. It formed a frame around the upper top of the valley, like a diamond cut frame against the sky, the pine tops staggered in sharp contrast. It was here me and my older brother built a dam in the creek, also where my Dad first taught me how to weave the wildflowers into a crown. Being a forest ranger as well as a self educated biologist my Dad would point out various forms of interest. Wildflowers and all sorts of growing things, animal tracks, even animal scat. He would pay close attention to the weather, peering overhead and always pointing out a change in weather. I felt safe. Always a sense of admiration as I trotted along making mental notes about everything. Maybe it's that sense of familiarity that brings me back time and time again to the mountains - the wonder and emotion of somehow being apart of such a grand place in time. The great sense of Belonging.
Here I will cut it short for your sake, as I have rambled on quite a bit. For more pictures from this particular mountain trip (and a tiny bit more rambling, had to be honest) you can see more at my blog.
rachelbrokawphotography.com/blog/
Thank you for spending a few minutes with me. Honestly I'm surprised every time I upload that there are still people willing to support me, encourage me and most of all listen to me. Of all the places on social media Flickr is definitely my place to 'belong' and I have you to thank for that.
Much love always, Rachel
A Place to Belong
For all of my days on this earth I have always struggled to feel a sense of belonging. That feeling I watch others embrace whether it be a connection with their own family, their home town... Even with their homes. I've always felt like a wanderer - not the romantic kind, the adventure-fevered Instagram craze, just that deep restless feeling of not belonging where my feet are at in the now. The acceptance and peace that I've always craved in a foundational sense of belonging. I find solace in the quiet and loneliness of the mountains. Maybe it's a sense of my own smallness, the magnitude of those dark brooding shadows. I feel comfort feeling lost in the giant space. There is no placement, no territory, no tangible sense of mine, yours, theirs. It becomes a vast space that belongs to no one. And there I am able to feel at home.
When I was a kid we went camping as often as we were able. My Dad was a forest ranger for a long time before any of us kids entered the picture. He knew many off the path type of places, the best places that no one else seemed to know about. As we'd drive up the mountain side my Dad would point out things to us, instruct us to pay attention to our surroundings. He offered a small prize to the first one to spot a wild animal. Before the days of having cell phones, or movies playing in the car, this was the best way to make time pass - our eyes would stay glued to the window in hopes of spotting a buck peering through those dark shadowy trees.
At least we'd reach the 'special place'.The spot I remember the most was a secluded site far away from other campers. There nestled into the lap of the mountain itself, the perfect clearing. So picturesque in my mind I remember it clearly. An open space full of lush scrabbles of grass and gentle wildflowers. A small creek ran through it and against all sides was the slopes of the mountain itself. It formed a frame around the upper top of the valley, like a diamond cut frame against the sky, the pine tops staggered in sharp contrast. It was here me and my older brother built a dam in the creek, also where my Dad first taught me how to weave the wildflowers into a crown. Being a forest ranger as well as a self educated biologist my Dad would point out various forms of interest. Wildflowers and all sorts of growing things, animal tracks, even animal scat. He would pay close attention to the weather, peering overhead and always pointing out a change in weather. I felt safe. Always a sense of admiration as I trotted along making mental notes about everything. Maybe it's that sense of familiarity that brings me back time and time again to the mountains - the wonder and emotion of somehow being apart of such a grand place in time. The great sense of Belonging.
Here I will cut it short for your sake, as I have rambled on quite a bit. For more pictures from this particular mountain trip (and a tiny bit more rambling, had to be honest) you can see more at my blog.
rachelbrokawphotography.com/blog/
Thank you for spending a few minutes with me. Honestly I'm surprised every time I upload that there are still people willing to support me, encourage me and most of all listen to me. Of all the places on social media Flickr is definitely my place to 'belong' and I have you to thank for that.
Much love always, Rachel