[pct-l] From an earlier pilgrimage

[pmags at yahoo.com (Paul Magnanti)]

Posted this little tidbit on another list. It was
about what many of us feel this time of the year:
Springer Fever. Originally the urge to go to Springer
Mtn in Georgia; think it has gone beyond that for many
of us. It is the urge to pack up a bag and go! Anyway,
some of you may find it interesting:


Spinger Fever starts transcending wanting to go to
Springer. Its the urge to grab a pack and go. To
explore, see what is over the horizon.

As the weather warms in April and the flowers bloom,
it seems an urge for many people. A guy named Jeff[1]
wrote this about traveling in April:

******************************
As soon as April pierces to the root
The drought of March, and bathes each bud and shoot
Through every vein of sap with gentle showers
>From whose engendering liquor spring the flowers;
...
When little birds are busy with their song
Who sleep with open eyes the whole night long
Life stirs their hearts and tingles in them so,
Then people long on pilgrimage to go,
And palmers set out for distant strands
And foriegn shrines renowned in sundry lands.
*********************

An old sentiment. For those who've hiked a long trail
the urge to go to Springer, Campo, Glacier, and other 
places of wilderness pilgrimages is strong this time
of the year.

I am house (and cat!) sitting in downtown Boulder for
the next three weeks. As I do my walk to work every
morning, I go along the tree lined streets. The birds
are indeed singing, the trees are starting to blossom
with purple flowers. The flowers beds people have
planted are fragrant with the smell of Spring.

As I look past the foothills, I catch a glimpse of the
divide all covered with snow. I want to be there
walking along them...

Yep..Springer fever definitely transcends wanting to
be
at Springer. It is the urge to be somewhere and
someplace. To again be walking a long trail.

MAgs

[1] you know..the english hack named G. Chaucer? :)











************************************************************
The true harvest of my life is intangible.... a little stardust caught, a portion of the rainbow I have clutched
--Thoreau
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