Engagement

We went on a hike. It was only our second, though we had promised to go more often--time got away from us, I guess. But we finally found some time, and so we set off early yesterday morning.
I had found an article in a magazine detailing the perfect place to hike in the fall: Lockett Meadow to the Inner Basin, full of bright yellow aspen trees from early September. So, that's where we headed. We got a little lost trying to find the trail entrance, but with a little back-tracking and a lot of windy, narrow roads, we made it. Getting out of the car, we tightened our jackets against the crisp air (so fall: overcast, breezy) and headed up the trail. We were immediately overcome by the beauty, bright yellow and evergreen, white tree trunks and fallen leaves. The tiny, golden aspen leaves layered the stony ground and made us want to sing "Follow the yellow brick road!". Our cheeks turned pink in the cool autumn air as we snapped photo after photo of the decaying beauty.
About a mile in, we found a meadow and sat, just admiring the landscape and resting our lungs. I thought it was one of those rare, perfect moments, when peace is the most prevalent thing in your mind.
We continued up the trail, heading for the inner basin, the landscape changing subtly as we went. I laughed to discover a cluster of tiny evergreens sprinkled with aspen leaves, and said that nature was already decorating for Christmas. As we neared the inner basin, it started to rain and the wind picked up. Trev wanted to continue, saying we were so close, but I kept imagining us walking the mile and a half back to our car soaked to the bone (hypothermia, anyone?). He seemed a little disappointed, but agreed to turn back.
We headed down the trail, retracing our steps. We passed a few friendly couples and commented about the weather. We found our same, "perfect moment" spot and stopped again to rest on the fallen logs. Trev sat behind me snuggling me in his arms. I turned to kiss him, and when I turned back, there was a tiny red box in his hands. "Will you marry me?" he said. I turned into him giggling and kissing, forgetting to answer. Finally, I whispered "Yes!". He then told me the story of the ring. How it belonged to his great, great grandmother, how his mother had worn it for twenty-seven years, but wanted him to have it for me. I put it on, thinking that I never wanted to take it off. We smiled at each other and headed back down the trail, hand in hand, making plans.