Enchanted Tower

It had already been a magical morning.  The magic began shortly after sunrise as I rounded the curve that bent back toward the southeast taking me to the dam on  Lake Rush in the Wichita Mountains Wildlife Refuge.  The scene took my breath as the scene unfolded in brilliant colors in shades of reds, yellows, and greens.  “Thank you, LORD!”, I spoke aloud, even though there was no one else around to hear them; just He and I.  I continued to thank him throughout the morning as he showed me wonderful and glorious beauty.  I knew I was rushing against ever rising sun and it’s changing light.  I knew the wind was coming, as well, and understood this window was fleeting.  A feeling of urgency arose within and I rushed to gather my  equipment, locate the perfect place to set up and then to think clearly enough to  manipulate the controls and settings to capture the image not only seen with my eyes but felt in my soul.  My biggest fear was that after two days already spent on the Refuge, the planning, the preparation, and now the presentation would be lost because of mistakes I’d make and points I wouldn’t consider.  To minimize all possibilites, I focused, not just the lens, but my total attention to the task at hand.

The next two hours were intense as I tried to capture as much as possible before the sun rose higher changing the angles of the light and chasing the enchantment away.  I moved frequently trying to stay ahead of the sun and time.  Each moved revealed something new requiring a changes in method and technique.  I was oblivious to everything around me and yet, hyper-aware of all my surroundings.  Finally, with a deep sigh, relaxation washed over me and I knew the window was closed and it was time to leave.  I left with no regrets.  But, I knew there was more left to the morning if only I could find it.  I knew there was more He could show me if I wanted to see.Lake Jed Johnson is less than a mile from Lake Rush.  I wasn’t real hopeful of finding a similar magic like what I was leaving, but something compelled me to turn onto the road leading there, anyway.  This was going to be a hike and the pain from arthritis in my knees and lower back that radiates through my buttocks and down each leg was going to be a  ever present.  I knew it would be made even more painful when I added my backpack of camera gear plus my tripod to my already overweight self.  I said a silent prayer knowing that many people go through pain and sometimes really good things come out of it.  With that in mind and the anticipation of sights waiting, I set out toward Jed Johnson Tower.

I knew this was going to be a painful trek.  It isn’t far from the parking lot to Jed Johnson Tower, maybe 1/2 mile, probably a little less; distance really doesn’t matter.  I stopped many times to let the pain in my knees and buttocks ease off.  I strained to see something unique and colorful, but there really wasn’t anything, at all.  I kept pushing onward and upward as the trail begins to climb more steeply toward the Tower.  The last 20 yards of the trail is really steep and I stopped twice before reaching the summit on which the rock and mortar tower is built.  The view from the top came as no surprise.  I really wasn’t expecting any spectacular scenes.  I’ve been to the Tower many times before and my mind’s eye could not envision there being anything more than what I found; a scene almost remarkable for being so ordinary.  I rid myself of the burdensome equipment I lugged to the top and lingered for 30 minutes.  I wasn’t looking forward to taking to the trail again, even though it would be mostly downhill.  Descending is every bit, if not more, painful on my knees as ascending.  Knowing I couldn’t spend the rest of my days up there, I prepared myself mentally, strapped on my pack, secured my camera, hoisted my tripod, picked up my walking stick and took to the trail.

Most of the return hike would have the sun at my back.  I knew the sunlight shining through the leaves would produce more vibrant colors than light reflecting off of them.  As I went, I would look at the trail ahead but envision what it would look like if I turned around and looked where I’d been.  I would try to journey as far as my macho toughness would allow, which wasn’t very far, then I’d turn back to see what visions were waiting behind.  At first there wasn’t anything spectacular but later on the trail took a turn and changing direction only a little, changed the angle of the sunlight filtering through the leaves and suddenly the colors became vibrant.  I had no other choice but to stop, set up my tripod and attempt to capture the scene.  After feeling I had done all I could do, I’d return to the hike, travel a bit farther, stop to look behind and repeat the process again.  It was really great and I was enjoying every bit of it.  However, the trail turned again and the vibrant scenes turned flat.  At this point, I settled myself in for the remaining half of the hike.  The pain had become exhausting, and was now intense from the bottoms of my feet, deeply aching up through my legs, intensifying at the knees, continuing on through my buttocks and into my lower back.  Both shoulder joints, which normally aren’t too bothersome, were reminding me of their arthritic complaints, lest I forget.  How could I.  I was carrying a tripod atop one and had my camera hanging from the other.  Each step around a rock was causing pain in my hips, and every step down, pain in my knees.  Movement, in general, was a real pain in “buttocks”!    I had to begin setting small goals for myself; “I won’t stop until I reach that tree, or that rock, or that bend in the trail!”  This was working even though the stops were frequent and distances covered short.  I was getting nowhere fast, but then I was not in any hurry to get anywhere.  The Sooners weren’t playing until 2:30 PM, and I had plenty of time to be home by then.  Trudging along toward the northern bank of Lake Jed Johnson I saw a row of boulders put there by the refuge as some sort of blockade.  They were aligned along the shore, under the deep shade of trees, and just the right height to sit on comfortably.  They were my next goal; I was not going to stop until I reached them!

By the time I reached the boulders, I was realizing this last goal was rather lofty.  My legs were barely shuffling along.  My right foot was turning in with every step, and I was, oh so wanting to sit down.  As I shuffled past the first few boulders, because they were not flat topped enough for comfort, I spied the perfect one.  It was just the right height, very flat across the top, and in complete shade.  The only caveat were the two prickly pear pads sitting where I wanted to sit.  Someone, had placed them there causing me to wonder, “Why?”  I actually had the impression they were there to “mark the spot”.  I flicked the off to the side with my walking stick promptly sat down facing the lake; I didn’t even bother to remove my backpack.  Oh my gosh, it felt so good to sit down; something I hadn’t done since leaving the plateau on which Jed Johnson Tower stood.  For several moments, with eyes closed, I let my body settle, my tense muscles relax from the recent strain, feeling the cool refreshing breeze from the lake.  After what seemed like several minutes, I lifted my head, opened  my eyes, and once again whispered aloud, “Thank you, Jesus!”  The scene before me was nothing short of enchanting!  All the weariness and pain was gone!  I didn’t move.  I didn’t even stand.  I picked up my tripod and set it up in front of my where I sat.  I carefully leveled it, placed my camera atop, and began taking pictures, one of which is featured at the beginning of this story.  I don’t know if the image accurately presents the scene I saw at that time, or not. I am unable to look at it without the  feelings and emotions of that moment, as well.  I hope you enjoy it, and you can somehow appreciate message that goes along with it.  Sometimes, what is revealed at the end of a painful journey makes the trip worthwhile.  I still believe that this entire morning was orchestrated especially for me by Someone who loves me dearly!  “Thank you, Jesus!”