A Day Spent On High

His Majesty, my smallness

My son and I took off at sea level yesterday to traverse what the hiking guide aptly described as a “….difficult and strenuous….” trek up Bird Ridge, one of Alaska’s many magnificent mountains. An overcast sky accompanied by steady oceanic breezes kept temps in the ‘balmy’ 50s.

My son’s 23 year old sports model frame ascended with mountain goat agility and speed, soon outdistancing my vintage 73 year old sedan lumbering along like an ‘ole’ grizzly . . . it’s tough getting old 🙂  At 2,500 ft. the steep climb leveled off along the ridgeline just long enough for us (me) to catch our breath before resuming our meandering route through snow patches and boulder fields to the summit at 4,700 ft.

Standing atop a towering mountain in this vast and majestic corner of creation always instills a humbling sense of awe of His incomprehensible greatness, and my infinitesimal smallness. Summiting with my son was a special added blessing.

Eight miles and seven hours later we arrived back at sea level. On a 1-10 scale it was a 15 Day!   My wife informed me I slept real good last night 🙂
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Alpine weathered spruce Lupine blooms Alpine Blooms Forget-Me_Not  Alaska State Flower.jpg

Father & Son Summit

Glimpsing Eternity

Ida’s in the Clouds

Ida's in the clouds

Soooooo . . . once again I find myself gazing down on creation from 35,000 ft. . . . always inspiringly awesome! If only Wilbur and Orville could have envisioned what Kittyhawk would become. As customarily happens aboard an aluminum tube zooming through the clouds at 600 mph . . . it got me to a’-thinkin’ . . . What if Ida’ . . .???

Sorting through the muddled medley of my life’s events (which brings a whole new definition to muddled), I reflected on those potential Kittyhawk events that some What if Ida’? choices Just-mighta’ have affected. I believe along life’s path we’ve all found ourselves at the crossroads of such choices. Unfortunately, life does not come equipped with a rewind button. Heaven knows, and contritely many others, the results of the myriad of foolish Wish I hadn’ta’ choices that have littered my path.
Dwelling on What if Ida’s and Wish I hadn’ta’s is a downward spiral, devoid of hope and joy. Such events are usually deeply personal and steeped in regret. Today’s world touts What if Ida’s that promote fortune . . . fame . . . power. But, on eternity’s forever enduring timeline, each will be “Here today, gone tomorrow.”

Soooooo . . . I reclined my seat and switched mental musings to speculative results to What mighta’ been if only Ida’s actually were Dida’s, that had made different choices that Coulda’ been possible Kittyhawks.

The possible Kittyhawks of my fantasy venture into What mighta’ beens if only Ida’ had made some different choices? . . . just unfettered, delightful conjecture sitting here above the clouds, but so much more uplifting than pondering depressing What if Ida’s and Wish I hadn’ta’s . . . Thanks Wilbur and Orville.

Now the really Good News . . . because of Him each and every one my What if Ida’ and Wish I hadn’ta’ regrets and failures have been completely wiped clean, replaced with incomprehensibly joyous I coulda’ never imagined mighta’ beens for all of eternity . . . yours as well, just for the asking.

By now you’re probably wondering Whata’ in the world is Fred on?   I don’t know either, but up here at 35,000 ft. it put a big smile on my face. If perhaps it has on yours as well, mission accomplished.

Be Blessed, and . . .

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