Wandering and Thinking and Hiking
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The summer of 2019 began a journey of curiosity, grief, persistence and in all honesty, fear. On February 26, 2015, two loving and distinguished gentlemen left this earth; my father, Rev. Joseph Nickell and my former father-in-law, Dr. Gibbs Prevost. The loss of these two, and on the same day, began my travels of selfdiscovery, intrigue, and a deeper sense of loss and hope. Not only did my father die, but my mother suffered a stroke which resulted in greater memory loss and a reliance on caretakers. At my father's funeral, delayed a month due to my mother's requirement to complete physical reh...
The summer of 2019 began a journey of curiosity, grief, persistence and in all honesty, fear. On February 26, 2015, two loving and distinguished gentlemen left this earth; my father, Rev. Joseph Nickell and my former father-in-law, Dr. Gibbs Prevost. The loss of these two, and on the same day, began my travels of selfdiscovery, intrigue, and a deeper sense of loss and hope. Not only did my father die, but my mother suffered a stroke which resulted in greater memory loss and a reliance on caretakers. At my father's funeral, delayed a month due to my mother's requirement to complete physical rehabilitation services, Carolyn Blevins responded with these words, "You've had a hell of a ride." She was not wrong. My mother continued to decline and on July 25, 2019, she died after residing in a memory care unit for only two months. Watching Mary Nickell, a determined, hospitable and stubborn woman, decline for four years could be described as a revelatory moment. I inherited my mother's determination and independent spirit, and that spirit was telling me to move onward. I sold my house, put everything in storage, quit my job, but NOT my profession, and decided to work in national parks; Yellowstone and the Grand Tetons so far. 10 As the events of 2020's covid pandemic loomed large the level of suffering was not lost on me. My isolation took place in the frozen tundra of the Grand Tetons, and worried for my family, as we were 2000 miles apart. Winter thawed the earth but covid was alive and well, and unfortunately thriving and spreading. Isolation continued, resulting in loss of lives, confusion, inability to have personal interactions, cancellation of sentinel events, mental and physical fatigue. Being a part of nature was my way to cope with the isolation and sadness surrounding my spirit. The pictures I had taken were ways to save those uplifting moments and thought the beauty might be helpful for others. Facebook and Instagram were my medium for sharing and the responses were overwhelming. Social media influence was not my goal. Sending pictures that might elicit peace, comfort and solace was my purpose. Two people dear to my heart and soul, Rev. Mary Beth Duke and Rev. Sharon Youngs, asked when my pictures would be published in a meditation book. Their urgings, David Tullock and Parson's Porch are the catalyst for these meditations. My travels have been varied; alone, accompanied by family and friends or with travelers along the way. I am grateful for good health, and for now good knees. The opportunity in front of me is not taken for granted.
