Fifth Journey Day 7: Presence of the Grey Jay

Date: May 15, 2025
Location: Jasper, Canada

I walked the Discovery Trail this morning, slowly and almost hesitantly. The air here is thin and sharp, yet somehow feels cleaner than any place I've been. It smelled like pine and distant snow. My boots made a soft cracking sound as I walked over frozen pine needles and damp moss. I moved carefully, as though even the slightest sound could break the silence that filled the valley.

Instead of looking up at the mountain peaks, I looked down. The textures caught my eye: green-black lichen spreading like slow-moving rivers across the bark; soft pillows of moss tucked into the crevices of fallen logs; ice crystals forming delicate lacework in shaded hollows. I traced the rough skin of a tree with my fingers, feeling its deep grooves and cold ridges. It felt solid and real in a landscape where everything else seemed airy and unreachable.

I sketched loosely, just the lines of texture, patches of light and shadow on bark, and the randomness of a frost pattern that I knew would disappear by midday. I didn't need to be exact. It was enough to record presence.

At one point, I stood still long enough for a grey jay to fly down and perch near me, then it disappeared again into the dense green. It was a small moment, but it stayed with me longer than the mountain backdrop.

I have noticed this pattern in myself. When I'm in a place that's too big, I focus on the smallest things. I feel safe there. It feels like a calm respect. It's a way of entering a large space without having to claim it.

I came back with cold fingers and a page of small, simple marks. That's all for today.