Captivated Me

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey. You’ll never know dear how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away.”

My grandfather and superhero left for heaven yesterday, and the past couple of days have been overshadowed with grief as we cared for him on a short course of hospice. In the hours since, part of my own arsenal of coping and healing involves getting outside in nature, finding peaceful spaces to cry and wrestle and reminisce and remember grandpa joyfully. And my goodness, Great River Bluffs State Park was the perfect place to do this.

Multiple out-and-back trails radiate out from the center of this park, each ending at a lookout over the Mississippi River Valley. I start by making my way the South Overlook, where I’m met by a gentle rainfall which serves as the accompaniment to a visual array of new green leaves on the trees that line the path. The steep bluffs to my right give way to breathtaking views of the river, which reflects the grey color of the clouds above. I sit at the overlook and observe: a ladybug clinging to a leaf, the grey-blue hills in the distance, the etchings on the wood rail that guards the end of the path. I sing one of the songs grandpa used to sing so often: “You are my sunshine”.

The North Overlook is a short 0.2 mile stroll away from the south, and I go there next. This offers a different perspective of the peaceful valley, and I spend some time here as well, admiring the springtime views. The clouds look as if they are breaking a little bit, and small bursts of sunshine cut through like smiles or winks from heaven.

From here, I make my way toward King’s Bluff Overlook, the Hiking Club Trail for this park. I am led down a row of pines, through a winding woods – briefly encountering two sweet new friends named Don and Karen who are also hiking this trail along the way – and up a tilted prairie land to a bench where I sit and eat my packed lunch. Increasingly so, the sky is evolving away from the overcast disposition of the morning to one of warm, radiant sun.

I hike back to my car and then drive a short distance through the park to the eastern corner, where the campsites are. From here, there are short trails to two different lookouts – the East Overlook and the Orchard Overlook. The former is where I spend most of my time – It is here that nature really starts showing off. Blue skies are coming, but the clouds are not yet gone, and the reflections over the river are mesmerizing. Again, grandpa’s song wells up in my soul, and I sing it out loud. The birds seem to be singing along as well. Flowers reach upward toward the sky. A fishing boat chugs its way slowly down the river. Yet another favorite song of grandpa’s comes to mind: “It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood, a beautiful day for a neighbor. Would you be mine?”

My final trail for the day leads to the latter lookout, Orchard Overlook. The path leads south, and I notice the sun now pouring happily through the woods to my right. At trail’s end, there is a vista of rolling bluffs that are drenched in sunlight at this time of day, also coming to life with springtime. I meander here a little while, watching birds swoop through the valley, noticing the flowering trees, and enjoying the now bright blue skies.

I’m learning more and more as I hike these state and national parks, that hiking is not only incredibly fun, but God can use it for our healing. And I’m grateful for sweet spaces like this that make whatever the hiker needs in that moment – whether it be peace, adventure, solitude, healing, space, delight, or any other number of heart-deep needs – possible.