POINT DEFIANCE PARK, TACOMA, WA:
As I embarked on my early morning drive to Point Defiance, the darkness of the road felt familiar yet full of promise. I rolled down the window and the crisp air filled my lungs as I anticipated the sunrise, a rare Pacific Northwest seasonal occurrence, and a moment that would ignite my hike. Each step along the Outer Loop was an invitation to immerse myself in the vibrant beauty of nature, a world pulsating with life despite recent rainfall. The melodies of birds dancing through the trees and the gentle padding of nettles beneath my feet created a soft atmosphere of serenity. This was more than just a hike; it was a ritual of gratitude, a time to ponder my “trail-thought” while the forest welcomed me in its embrace. The twists and turns of the path became metaphors for life, each challenge offering a chance for reflection, reminding me of the peace that lies in the ordinary moments we often overlook.
As I continued my trek, gratitude blossomed within me, especially for the musical artists who channel their own sorrows into hauntingly beautiful melodies. The stillness of my drive allowed me to contemplate how these creators navigate their grief, transforming it into meaningful expressions that resonate with us all. Their songs serve as a guiding light in our darkest moments, inviting us to share in their vulnerability. I found solace in their lyrics, which echo my own experiences of loss and longing, reminding me that we are part of a larger experience of human emotion. Each note I listened to on the way to the trail became a companion, an anthem of connection that illuminated the path through my own heartache. Here, in the embrace of nature, I realized that music and the journey of hiking intertwine, both offering spaces to confront and honor our emotions.
Reflecting on my hike, I recognized the comfort that sad songs bring, even as I wrestled with the complexities of my own emotional landscape. The tranquility of the woods provided the perfect backdrop for unpacking my thoughts on vulnerability and the power of tears. As I walked, Elton John’s “Sad Songs (Say So Much)” played in my mind, reminding me of the shared understanding between artist and listener. Each lyric resonated deeply, illuminating the beauty in our collective experiences of loss. It became clear that allowing ourselves to feel sadness is not a sign of weakness; rather, it’s an essential part of our journey. My hike concluded with a renewed appreciation for the interplay between nature, music, and emotional exploration, a comforting reminder that we are never truly alone in our struggles.
The Journey…
As the sun peeked over the cascades, I set out on the Outer Loop of Point Defiance Park, the air crisp and invigorating at 40 degrees. Despite the recent heavy rainfall that flooded much of Western Washington, the trail felt surprisingly vibrant. I could hear the songs of birds filling the forest, their melodies mingling with the distant chatter of the nearby zoo. The path was a blend of soft dirt interspersed with pine cones and the gentle padding of nettles beneath my feet. I exhaled and felt a calm as I began, a leisurely trek spurred by the beauty surrounding me. It was a morning that promised serenity, inviting me to explore every nook and cranny of this urban oasis, reminding me that nature’s beauty often lies just beyond our doorsteps—yes, near where the three little birds were pitched.
Glancing around, I encountered remnants of the recent rainfall—a sizable tree lay freshly fallen across the trail, a testament to nature’s raw power. As I maneuvered around it, I felt a strange kinship with the forest; we both had weathered the elements. I lost track of time in the first mile, which took about a half-hour, a reminder that sometimes speed isn’t the goal. I paused frequently, capturing the serene beauty, each stop a chance to freeze a moment in time. The trail wound gracefully, occasionally crossing roads where joggers and cyclists sped by. It struck me how we all shared this environment, each finding our own form of solace in the park, yet each on our unique journey.
The atmosphere shifted as I walked beneath a canopy of moss-laden branches, the light mist capturing droplets like an umbrella overhead. I chuckled at the warning signs along the way—“Danger: Unstable Cliffs”—as I mused on their relevance beyond the trail. Sometimes, I thought, we need those reminders in life. The ferns, once unremarkable to me, had begun to grow on me this year, their delicate fronds dancing in the breeze. I savored the scents wafting through the air—fresh earth, lush foliage, and the salty fragrance of the marine breeze. There was no need for grand vistas or waterfalls today; the forest itself was the prize, a quiet sanctuary for reflection and gratitude.
Gratitude…
This week, I found myself wrapped in gratitude for the musical artists who bare their souls through their hauntingly beautiful sad songs. As I drove in the stillness of the early morning, on roads shared by a few other morning souls, I thought about how these creators navigate their own grief and transform it into something profound. They take their personal wounds and weave them into melodies that resonate deeply with us, inviting us to share in their vulnerability. It’s as if they’re lighting a connecting path in the darkness, guiding us through our own feelings of loss and longing. Their music becomes a safe haven, a space where we can confront our grief without fear, knowing that we are not alone in our struggles.
What strikes me most is how these artists allow us to adopt their pain, to reinterpret it in a way that feels uniquely our own. Just as I journey through the winding roads, reflecting on my own thoughts and memories, their lyrics become a companion on my drive. Each note offers solace, each verse a reminder that our experiences, while personal, are part of a greater connection to human emotion. In this quiet morning hour, I’m reminded of the connections we forge through shared struggles, and how music becomes a bridge between our hearts. It’s a tender exchange, one that transforms sadness into something beautiful and uplifting, allowing us to rewrite our stories with every listen.
Reflections…
This morning’s hike was one of those perfect moments, a gentle embrace from nature that felt like a familiar friend. As I stepped onto the trail, the air was crisp, invigorating, and the quiet rustle of leaves created a soft backdrop for the deeper thoughts swirling in my mind. It was a pristine setting, allowing me to reflect on something I’ve been thinking about this week: why do sad songs bring me comfort? I’ve been wrestling with whether this affinity for melancholy is a healthy expression of my emotions or if it’s simply stalling my growth. It felt like the right environment to unpack these thoughts, surrounded by the tranquility of the woods and the beauty of the moment.
For most of my life, I’ve embraced a stoic approach to emotions. Crying wasn’t something I often did—it just wasn’t in my repertoire of expression. But recently, I’ve found myself tearing up during private moments, often triggered by music, or even poignant scenes in films—a thought I may unpack on a future hike. For music, this vulnerability feels both liberating and unsettling. As I walked along the trail, I realized that there’s a certain power in allowing those tears to flow. It’s almost as if I’m rediscovering a part of myself that I had tucked away, and this week’s “trail-thought” felt like the perfect place to explore these feelings.
As I continued along the path, Elton John’s “Sad Songs (Say So Much)” echoed in my mind. The very title is a reminder of how music has the uncanny ability to capture complex emotions. I remembered when that song first came out in the mid-80s; I didn’t fully grasp its depth back then. Now, as I reflect on the lyric, “If someone else is suffering enough to write it down / When every single word makes sense,” it resonates deeply within me. Artists share their wounds, and in doing so, they invite us to share in their healing. This connection through shared experiences allows us to find solace in our own struggles, making the journey a little less isolating.
Loss is a complex matrix of emotions, often difficult to articulate. Yet, sad songs have an incredible way of cutting through that complexity with their simple beauty. Take BJ Barham’s “The Unfortunate Kind”—his haunting lyrics about watching someone fade away validates my own feelings of grief. It’s comforting to know that I’m not alone in this experience, that others feel the weight of loss just as I do. Yes, tears accompany those moments, but they also bring an unexpected comfort. There’s a shared understanding between the artist and the listener that makes the heartache feel a little lighter, reminding me that expressing sadness is not a sign of weakness. Rather, it’s the intersection of vulnerability and strength.
Listening to sad songs also offers a form of emotional self-compassion. It’s a gentle reminder that it’s perfectly okay to feel sad, to honor those emotions rather than suppress them. I’ve questioned whether this behavior is unhealthy, but research suggests otherwise. Engaging with sad music can facilitate a more complete emotional processing of grief instead of bottling it up. Continuing with my hike, Emily James’ “Song For Bryan” came to mind, highlighting how we can adapt themes of music to our own narratives. Her lyrics about complicated love echo my own feelings about navigating relationships and the fear of drifting apart while still cherishing precious memories. As I walked, I felt the rhythm of the trail mirror the rhythm of the songs, a comforting cycle of exploration and reflection.
As I returned to the trailhead, a sense of gratitude washed over me—not just for the beauty surrounding me, but for the healing power of music. Sad songs may not offer a complete solution, but they provide a balm for the soul, reminding me that it’s okay to feel deeply and embrace the complexity of my emotions. In those moments, I feel seen, understood, and connected to a larger community of listeners who have walked similar paths. The comfort these songs provide is not just a subjective feeling; it highlights their ability to facilitate emotional processing. Today, I came home with a renewed appreciation for the intertwining of nature, music, and my own emotional journey. The path continues.
-Ken
- Point Defiance Park, Tacoma, WA
- 47° 18′ 18.648″ -122° 31′ 22.98″
- 5 miles | 369 ft elevation gain | ~2.5 hours
- Sunrise: 7:49 a.m. 40-46 degrees, clear
Musings 