Resonance "retreats"

I spent a chunk of the weekend hanging out with Resonance, the women’s chorus I’m volunteering with, at their annual retreat near Estes Park. It was a complicated mix: driving through some of the areas most damaged by the floods, soaking up the pleasure of working with this chorus, and delighting in the beauty of the mountains, where I’ve spent virtually no serious winter time for years.

Estes Park and the roads to it witnessed some of last summer’s most severe flooding. The main road to Estes follows one of the canyons most dramatically affected, and traffic there is still slowed by construction, so I took a more roundabout route. This canyon, too, saw serious flooding, and signs of it were everywhere. I could have taken uncounted pictures of damaged structures, missing bridges, debris caught 10 feet high in trees, and piles of boulders where none belonged. Instead, I caught this one view of an old church sitting high on a solid rock—a fortunate location during those days in September. The flood left the church perched higher than before, and the open valley below is still littered with trees and stumps and tangles of branches, despite now months of clean-up work. To the west and above the church is the mountain drainage that funneled the exceptionally heavy rains down the slopes and toward the church. Variations on these scenes linger all around this part of Colorado.

Scenes from the flood receded and the beauty of this area took over as I arrived Friday afternoon at the YMCA camp where the retreat was held. Here's the late-afternoon scenery that greeted me and views of the hills as the sun set. Home, for a couple of days, to me and about 125 other women. Not to mention hundreds of other folks who came here for retreats, for meetings, or just to hang out and enjoy the mountains in the middle of winter. I was officially "on retreat." 

     

     

     

Now, in truth, as the “Assistant Maven,” I had virtually no responsibilities at this retreat, but it was a great chance to get to know the group better and to watch another large piece of their process. I spent the weekend sharing a cabin with three singers I knew before I assumed my new role, which gave me a wonderful base for my exploration into this new side of Resonance. Friday night, we had fine conversation and dinner together, then talked some more and laughed ourselves silly over a card game before crashing (too late) in anticipation of a daylong rehearsal (for them) on Saturday.

Saturday was a remarkable day for me. It started with an early-morning walk with one of my cabin mates. But the serious wake-up call came with the wave of energy that struck me as I entered the rehearsal venue. There was this marvelous buzz made up of about equal parts chatter, laughter, and a sort of amorphous hum of movement and, well, energy. This in the community I craved. Then the singers settled into their places, and I sank into a chair in the back to listen. The day officially began with the requisite warm-up exercises. I had kind of tuned out, thinking there wasn’t much to listen to (it was warm-ups, for Pete’s sake!). Then suddenly, as I was starting to send an email to my partner, their voices just stopped me mid-word. I was stunned by the size and the beauty of their sound. I sat there, smiling, and just listened. Later in the day, before the director knew about my moment of awe, I heard her call such experiences “aesthetic arrest.” Good description. I didn't get back to that email for some time. 

I hung out in the back listening to the chorus rehearse for the rest of the morning, hearing them fine-tune a song from lovely to exceptionally lovely (to my untrained but very appreciative ear) and then work on a couple more before taking a lunch break. At some point, I’ll probably stop commenting on how wonderful I find their process to be—but not yet. It’s so impressive to me to see them moving with such precise attention to each piece of each song. It made me wonder all over again at how much work it takes to put together an entire concert, especially of the quality I heard that morning. Although I know that "retreat" has a particular meaning here, nothing I saw from Resonance looked like anything but joyful reaching forward. 

Then, in the afternoon, while they worked some more, I took advantage of the locale and headed farther up the mountain to a trailhead reported to offer great snowshoeing (well, it is a retreat, after all). I used to snowshoe quite a lot, and I grew accustomed to trails that were fairly remote and lightly used. I sometimes walked for hours without seeing anyone. But this was different. It was in Rocky Mountain National Park, close to Estes, and the area draws a lot of visitors, even in January. It was quickly apparent that this was the case with the particular trailhead I found, a hub for several trails. The scene in the parking hardly foretold a wilderness adventure. 

But the day was beautiful, the snow was really nice, and I was eager for a winter walk in the woods. So I set off up the trail to Nymph Lake. Despite the late-ish hour, there were still a lot of people on the trail—including, to my amazement, people negotiating this narrow, sometimes steep hiking trail on regular downhill skis. Apparently that sport passed me by at some point. The walk was invigoratingly uphill, and I loved both the scenery, with the the low light peeking through the trees, and the exercise.

The lake itself is a classic small mountain lake, set in a depression formed by a glacier, and surrounded by forest. It lies beneath some of Rocky Mountain NP’s craggy peaks, and the wind plays across the thick, opaque ice in snowy gusts. 

As I headed back down the trail, getting chillier by the minute, I found myself wondering how cold it might be at the top of those high peaks as they lost the bare warmth of the sinking sun. 

Back at the Y camp, I visited the end of rehearsal, enjoyed a quick dinner with my friends back at our cabin, and then joined them for the walk back to the talent show, an annual ritual of funny, gorgeous, and thought-provoking offerings by members of the chorus. And just in case the performance art wasn’t enough, there was an art show in the lobby, also displaying the work of chorus members. This is indeed a multi-talented group I’ve hitched a ride with.

I started Sunday with another early-morning walk with my cabin mate, talking about the retreat, about life and aging, and about the scenery. How could we not comment on the sight we were treated to as when we turned around to return to the cabin. 

I left early Sunday morning to pick up my partner at the Denver airport. As I started down the mountain, I spotted this scene—the winds whipping clouds and snow across the high peaks. 

   

What a fine finish to my weekend sojourn into the glorious mountains. No wonder they "retreat" here every year.