The Story of Lucille, Part III


On this March’s chilly afternoon, the tall pine trees slightly sway from a consistent swirling breeze which gently rocks the cabin of the Ford Model A pick-up. A light rain drizzles down on the hood of the pick-up truck. Surprised by this, Lucille immediately snaps out of her daze while out of nowhere a flying object which contains a photo of female blues artist with the words “Amanda Fish” flew past the cabin of the pick-up truck. The harmonica rings loudly and the lyrics of “I Don’t Need It” is blasted to the surrounding area.

The powerful lyrics had struck a deep chord into Lucille’s inner core, as she realizes there is a calling far more intense than anything she has ever experienced before in her lifetime. Lucille isn’t your ordinary woman, from her childhood days she has a deep sense of awareness that was groomed by the day-trips her parents took on a monthly basis to the mountains. Plus, her parents engraved the philosophy of think on your own, challenge everything, and honed those critical survival skills. At this moment, Lucille’s left arm reaches behind the bench seat to grab the weather proof hiking pack stashed with an assortment of nuts plus beef jerky.

It was now or never as time never stops for anybody or anything for that matter. It had been drilled into her head since at an early age that situational awareness is amongst most important survival skills for her existence among the wild creatures of the forest. Lucille stepped out of the pick-up’s cabin as a crisp chilling breeze slaps her face. Suddenly, Lucille leans to the right, her left arm pulls on the lever to lower the bench seating to grab 12” razor sharp dagger. She slid the mighty dagger into the left side of her beltline. The misty drizzling light rain continues to fall as the drops runs down Lucille’s forehead while leaning into the cabin once again. The left hand grabs 12 gauge shotgun with a blackstrap as she slings the shotgun over her left shoulder then puts her arm through the taut strap.

Silently staring into the dark clouds above as the light misty drizzling rain kisses her entire face, Lucille closes her eyes to savor this moment. It dawns on her that most likely she will never return from where she began this excursion on this very chilly drizzling day. Eventually, she opens her eyes and left hand grabs a well used 6’ wooden hiking cane with a whistle engraved on the upper end. Next, Lucille slid the key into the keyhole insert and gave a slight turn to the left to secure the pick-up truck. Suddenly, another flying object that contains a photo of a blues band with the words “WellBad” flew past so close by Lucille’s head as her hair sways from the force. The drums beat very loud and powerful lyrics of “Judgement Day” as she stood alone. A good hour and half out in the mountains and never seen another soul. It is refreshing to have such privacy.

The life here on the surface, the life 90 percent of us lead, is going to be a mere reflection from now on for Lucille. Already there have been changes, as Lucille proceeds to follow the hiking trail leading to Cigar Box Canyon. Many thoughts were racing through Lucille’s head and reflecting on how chaotic the concrete jungle would be at this very moment. There was a time during Lucille’s youth where a wise man shared of a story on how nature and the forests can revitalize the spirit of the soul. Though, one particular statement had caught Lucille’s attention. The wise man spoke “The City slickers always joke about us country folks being too laid back and easygoing. Though with all the commotion and distractions, do the City slickers really know what’s going on in their own homeland?”…..(To Be Continued)

Part I
Part II