We went to Natural Bridge with the kids yesterday. The anticipation of spending the day away with them kept me going all last week. I love these kind of trips where worry gets left on the back stoop at home. My husband and I already had the day mapped out ahead of time. The only thing I didn’t count on was rain. You’d think a planner like me would’ve checked the weather report before planning an outdoor trip, but this one detail got past me. When we woke it was a bit cloudy. Hmm. I sent my hubs to get online and check out an hour by hour weather report. As we stood, heads bent together, we frowned in tandem at the screen. Some rain between eleven and one was expected. Should we cancel the trip? I sent a prayer up, thankful for the rain but hoping it could be delayed.
It rained off and on as we travelled the two hours to Natural Bridge. I fought the worry in the pit of my stomach. “Please Lord, stop the rain.”
We decided to tour the Natural Bridge Caverns first in hopes the sprinkles would stop. It was amazing wandering through the caverns and pointing out this and that to the kids. Their eyes of wonder were enough to make the trip worthwhile. To be 342 feet below the mountain is awe-inspiring to say the least. And at the end of the tour, the guide flicked the lights off to give us a taste of the absolute pitch dark of being that far down. I had to fight the wild imagination I was born with. It only took a millisecond to conjure images of being trapped without any light to find my way out. And of course another book idea began to be birthed in that brief few moments. But then the lights were back on and I took a breath before heading back to the top with the kids. And the rain had stopped by the time we reached the surface. That was a big thank-you to God.
After lunch at a great fifties restaurant, we headed to see Natural Bridge. When we came around the bend of the trail and the bridge came into view, it took our breaths away. God created it so we could all be in awe of his greatness, I’m sure. I’m given to reflection when I see such sights.
After staring and taking it all in, we headed to the Monacan Indian village to see how they lived and functioned in culture three hundred years ago. The long house, the wigwam, trading post and outdoor kitchen kept my rapt attention. The tour guide was a Monacan ancestor. She gave us great insight into their daily lives. And she not only learned the knowledge but applied it with years of experimenting and living as they would’ve so many years ago.
We ended the day with a nice dinner and headed home. I hope my children remember this fabulous trip when they’re grown and have their own family. It’ll make for a great story some day.