Travel Prologue, Part 1, Practicing

Some of you know that Tyler and I bought a used Tacoma truck at the end of last year. In January, we drove to Harker Outdoors in Salt Lake City and had a wedge camper put into place. We both really love this truck, and I have been driving it around town to see if I really feel comfortable with the idea that  it may be time to sell my Elantra. Surely three cars for two people, even when one is electric, is one too many.  I am beginning to rest a little easier with the decision. However, sometimes I feel I should at least be dressing a little more Gypsy-ish. Of course the images of what I might look like are left over from the movies I watched as a child when the women, all beautiful and confident, had long dark hair, golden hoop earrings, and always wore colorful dresses and scarves. I remember them as being rather fiery tempered, opinionated, and absolutely confident. Somehow, a Land's End turtleneck, black pants, and sneakers seem all too ordinary as I motor about.   

This morning after tending to a couple of errands, I stopped by our local produce market. I parked in front of the donut shop which is right next door. I got out and opened the back so I could get a couple of shopping bags. A man who was backing out of the spot next to me stopped, rolled down his window,  and asked if what I had was actually "one of those campers that open up and has a sleeping bed."  I replied yes, and he ended the conversation with "That is so cool!" I had to smile. Cool and I typically do not reside in the same sentence.  

As my asparagus, fresh bread, goat cheese, and other items that suggest that spring is really here were being checked, I saw another man, probably a few years older than me, pause by the camper and take a long look at it. I spotted him again when I was getting into the truck and he had entered the donut shop. He looked surprised. I suspect he did not expect to see a slightly aged and rather ordinary looking woman getting into the driver's seat. I was hoping that I did not run into anything as I backed out. I did not want to interfere with my new found parking lot cred. 

I still get nervous backing up, and that includes backing into our driveway. Tyler's work car is electric, so he parks in one part of the driveway where he can recharge the car. Our house was built in 1939, and while we have one of the few driveways that can hold two cars side by side, the space is not expansive. This morning as I turned onto our street, I thought that I should at some point ask Tyler to critique my approach in case there is something I can do to make it a little easier on myself, and maybe not worry the neighbors.  Despite my concern, I successfully pulled in after two repositionings.  As I was getting out of the truck, Tyler, who unbeknownst to me had watched the landing from the upstairs window, surprised me by opening the garage door and saying, "All you need is confidence. You had it the first time."  

It is raining today, and I am grateful to be home. However,  I am also dreaming of crossing the Sierras, and exploring again the eastern side. And maybe actually seeing a big-horned sheep and visiting the home of Mary Austin. And then driving a little further. Right now we must balance work schedules that are different, and our responsibilities. Yet, I also know we cannot postpone the dreams of travel too long unless we opt for a cruise ship. That, at least as of now, does not intrigue us. It is the desert, and then a little further, that calls.   

   

image:  from January 2024. Yes, today the camper is much cleaner. Hopefully, for not much longer. However, I must give thanks for the rain.     

A Fine Spring Morning

 This morning's walk was full of flowers, glossy green leaves, tiny buds, and exuberant birdsong, all lit by sunshine. So full, in fact, that I announced to God right out loud that surely we are not done yet. I came to trust that we have spring for a reason. 

    

"Love Flows Through"

   

Your job and your joy
is to trust yourself and
what you find yourself knowing.

Pause. Ask. Listen.
Feel the answer.
And then dare to do it.

When you do this,

you become the place
where love flows through.

~ Erich Schiffmann

         

  

A Walk in the Park

 Last Saturday, Tyler and I decided to go for a walk in part of the East Bay Regional Park that is not very far from our house. When we got out of the truck, we could hear a whistle coming from the far side of the crowded parking lot. We noticed a group was gathering, and we were both pretty sure what we were hearing  was a child blowing a toy whistle. We really did not think too much about it, other than take it as a sign that we needed to get on our way. We walked for a while, and then we began to hear not one, but several toy whistles coming from behind us. We turned and saw a fairly large group coming in our direction. We paused on a small side trail to let them pass. Every child had a whistle, and each seemed quite engaged with blowing it as loudly as possible. One of the male leaders was singing to Jesus in full, but slightly off key voice. He would periodically pause and enthusiastically voice encouragement to both adults and children to keep going. As more children equipped with whistles passed by, Tyler mentioned that we probably would not be able to do our usual full loop due to recent storm damage. We decided to turn around for fear that the rest of the hike would be accompanied by a cacophony of sound that neither one of us found particularly endearing. 

 

 We have had enough rain that the trail was muddy, and we often had to maneuver around puddles, sticky mud, and streaming water. I now hike using two poles, and I walk carefully. However, I was intrigued as I watched a young girl pass us. She was actually dancing around the puddles and over the streams. Her mother, who was a little out of breath and not quite so light on her feet, looked at me and we smiled in acknowledgement that such ease of movement was beyond both of us. As I remember the child's (probably a pre-teen) absorption in her dance, I realize that the difference between her actions and the actions of the rest of the children was that she was actually interacting with the environment as she lightly moved through. She was fascinating to watch. 

    

Yet, walking slowly has its advantages, and I believe my current pace allows me to notice more of the beauty around me. I took only a couple of photographs that day, but I am grateful for this picture of a mushroom I spotted along the way. I was initially drawn to its color, and I did not notice the spores. However, I realize now it is a picture of a cycle of life that is quiet, at least to a human's ear, and often out of our sight.    

       

This poem reminds me we are all knitted together in this life whether we are a mushroom, a young dancer, or one who is simply pausing by the side of the road to look around and hopefully take note. 

    

"Your Moment to Shine"

  

The moment is here,
the moment you step
forward from fear
into light, the moment
that your soul takes flight.

Burrow no more in darkness
and despair. Dare to show
your radiant self,
the miracle of awakened
energy giving you wings
and the courage to be
human and divine
at the same time.

With this breath, you are
initiated into the depths
of freedom and love,
into the peril and perfection
of the moment as it truly is,
and you are right with it,
open, refusing to close down
or cower no matter what
challenges find you inside
or outside. This is your
moment to shine.

~ Danna Faulds

image: March 2024

Spring in the Neighborhood

My morning schedule opened up because my flute teacher needed to cancel our time together.  Both Covid and our recent rain storms disrupted my walking schedule, so this morning seemed to be a good time to step out. Several people were out in their yards, including one soft spoken man who told me he was from Boston."We are not used to seeing flowers so early in the year." I think he told me that last year as well, but it is true; flowers are erupting everywhere, and people in general were in friendly moods.  

I then walked on and passed a house with a driveway full of children's bicycles and one aluminum boat. A young girl came out. I said hello and asked which bicycle was hers. She pointed to the pink one and then added, just in case I might be confused, that the boat belonged to her dad. Her mom called to her from the front door, so I peeked around the corner, waved and said hello. My mother-in-law lived in that house for a couple of years. In that house the front door and the back door by the kitchen are almost in complete alignment, and on many days, if the doors are open, a cool breeze blows through. I know very little about feng shui, but that design must surely be in good feng shui alignment. We have air conditioning, and I am glad, but I think I will remember that breeze long after I have forgotten about our Carrier heating and air conditioning unit. 

A house a few doors down has the largest ceanothus I think I have ever seen. It is as tall as the house, and covers almost half of it. The bush is right now full of blossoms and is abuzz with bumble and honey bees. I find the sound of bees encouraging.  I am out of practice with photographing bees, but it seemed worth a try. They are definitely doing their work. I then came home to discover that one of the purple lupines in our yard is blooming. 

Neighborhoods, like churches, can be places of healing and connection. I am grateful for where I find myself today. I think Jesus would appreciate both, and yes, I try to make it known that he is always welcome. Even when a sales person comes to the door. Yes, that just happened. Life is a curious thing and I think Jesus has more of a sense of humor than we hear about.    

     

San Leandro, March 2024