When I was in my early teens, a neighbor across the street was going to Yosemite National Park for a few weeks of vacation. Luckily, I was invited to come along. My school was out for the summer months and it was a great chance to revisit one of the finest areas of wilderness still left in the lower United States. It was also a rare opportunity for my mother, as she would finally have a little time off from the large responsibility of being a single parent. I believe at the time when asking to go on the trip I worded it more along the lines of, "Please, please, please, can I go? Can I go?". Regardless of the reasons provided, I received permission to go on the trip. It is a vacation I will continue to remember for the rest of my life.

An old camper which sat out in front of my friend's house would act as our domicile during the trip to Yosemite. Up to that time my knowledge of the vehicle's interior was limited to only the small cramped benches and table we used occasionally for card games. In my neighborhood I knew of campers as rusting memorials each marked the house of a successful marriage. Either a camper or a boat would sit in front of these houses marking their success at family life. The vehicles were rarely used. Should a house fail to have either, it would mean that the divorce was finalized and the property was sold off for its book value. This small four wheeled "pleasure" vehicle was one of the last around where I lived. It was a survivor.

My friend and I filled up the gas and water tanks, checked each tire's air pressure, and readied the iron beast for the long journey. Being in my early teen years I didn't have to worry about driving. My main decisions were deciding where to stand and what to pack. After all preparations were made, it was time to say goodbye to my mother. Off we went down the street toward what would become a very memorable trip.

After a very long road trip we entered Yosemite park's gates. Upwards we drove along a twisting paved road further into the mountain range. Excitement that had been dulled by the many miles of highways travelled built up again within moments. The smell of pine trees and clean air was remarkable. It was impossible to avoid, we were like dogs as we stuck our heads out of the windows wanting to leap out of the vehicle and enjoy the surroundings that seemed alien to us.

My body went from the limp wilted state brought on by the city to one of feeling crisp and energetic within a matter of moments. Bounding out of the camper I started to explore my new environment. There were many other campers all around us, each parked in their own little designated dirt section.

About a quarter mile from the camp lay a large flat field of grass that ran for miles in all directions. Meandering through this grassland was a river which was 20 feet across at the widest point. The water moved slowly through the almost level land. The only betrayal of the water's current was an occasional leaf or strand of grass drifting by. Small fish, less than a foot in length, could be seen under the water. It was a lazy time in life for the river, the grasslands, and each of its inhabitants including me.

A fifty meter wide strand of pine trees lay perpendicular to the river. It broke up the undulating shin-high yellow grasses that surrounded me. The sun was setting behind the granite mountains. I looked upwards to see a deep magenta sky. Looking behind me the color deepened into a purple hue. Seeing a sky ranging in such vivid colors left me off balance as I could not take my eyes off of it. After a mis-step in the ground that threw me off-balance, I decided it was time to stop and admire what is to this day the finest sunset I have ever witnessed. I sat on a boulder that was at the perfect height. It was as if nature had given me a resting spot to view her beauty. Time seemed to stop at that place next to the wooded peninsula in the grasses. Seemingly, the core of nature's tranquility and splendor was transmitted only for myself as I sat there. The meaning of the city and its lost beauty quickly went out of focus. It was replaced by the meaning of true life. Something that was not available at any price. Those lucky enough to ever experience such a view will take the picture in their mind and share it only in casual detail. Trying to elucidate the entire picture is an impossibility. This place was one that will only exist in that time and the encroaching night will take it away only after it has given up its final picture of rest.

I walked onward towards the outline of trees walking as if I was one with nature. Each step now was self-fulfilling. There were no longer any mistakes in footing. A perfect divot of earth surrounded and embraced each step as I moved forward. In the trees I entered slowly. A small flattened area could be seen ahead. I paused very briefly there admiring how it seemed to be set as if it were a stage. I saw a very slight movement a hundred feet ahead. This caused me to wait motionless at my viewpoint for a few more seconds. It was then that a doe came into view almost on cue it took up its position on the rounded field of grass inside the trees. I stared in disbelief. The magic of this place seemed too unreal for me to take in completely. I knew that I had to stay where I was or risk the deer moving away rapidly. After several minutes the images were burned into my memory just as the sunset and I knew the second gift had been given.

I moved off silently to the left as the deer continued out of view eating grass from the "stage of life" as I later called it. I approached her getting closer and closer stealing an occasional glance whenever possible. I came within 20 meters and did not go any closer knowing the inevitable dash would end this perfection of time in my life. I waited there satisfied with all I had seen and then I looked upon a mirror of my own life. Ahead was not one but two very small baby deer, each still had spots on its body. They were watching the mother deer. Both were watching her eat and waiting for when it would be told to them that it was time to move onward. I looked into the black eyes of one that was no further than 5 meters away. It returned my stare and like myself the small fawn was soaking up as much as was possible about it's surroundings and inhabitants. The small baby did not know me as something to fear. Blankly it stared back, seeing it's mother move off into the woods the baby followed ending my encounter with the entire small family of deer.

I think of the deer and I think of when it will one day move away from it's own mother. The only thing I feel sad about is knowing I will never have such a perfection of moments enter my life again. Some moments may try to exceed that time, (and I invite them to try), but each will only be a comparison or measurement to it. Sadly I know that there will never be an equal to it. I was alone when I enjoyed those best moments of my life.

I wrote this for an english class about 2 years ago and wanted to share. It was the first thing I had written in over 20 years. It is a true story retold as closely as possible.

Its really good great work. Glad to hear it was true too

A beautiful story! I have had moments like this in my life and I cherish each of them. Thanks for reminding me that it all still out there waiting to be shared with us.

Very Nice, It really caught my attention and kept it, I don't know why a walden pond becomes such a classic and other writing such as this may be only known to a few of us lucky souls, for they are in the same realm. Don't shut out the possibility of an even more beautiful moment happening in your life though.
Once I was camping in Perdenals State Park and I was sleeping in the open in a green sleeping bag. I was awoken by a wet touch on my nose. I opened my eyes and I was eye to eye with a deer, his nose against mine had woken me up. I will always remember that until the day I die.

Some true moments of life just seeing stay inside us for all time.
This moment was your first to see that allowed you to FEEL as close to this wild unseen life that you thought you could ever be. And alone times with nature let us also see and question our selves and alot of wow's and why's!
Great read....

Thank you everyone for the kind words.

That is a fantastic story yantraimages. Wow! Who knows maybe the little one was transplanted by the rangers. You've felt the moment too. I hope everyone will have at least one to hold close and treasure.

This was a draining story for me as I wrote it. My emotions literally went into the words. I read it to a group of college students my voice trembling at the end and almost in tears. A vibrant Mexican-american male student, the epitome of machismo, had to clear his voice and quickly wipe his eyes before commenting on it. I wonder if other writers get into the same sort of moods when writing.