Archives for category: Oregon Trails

Odd morning. Not a bad one at all, just a profound departure from the routine. For one thing, I overslept my artificial sunrise, and woke to the full brightness of the lights in the room, 10 minutes or so later than intended, and far later than typical. I woke in considerable pain, and very stiff, feeling like I’d been sleeping in the same strange position “all night”, with a stiff neck and back. Awkward. I moved slowly through my morning routine, almost leaving the house without putting my shoes on. I arrived at the trailhead emotionally prepared to walk, but feeling less than ideally eager to do so – the crick in my neck was still really super painful (and still is). Rough. I got a short walk in, then headed to the office to… work?

First I sipped coffee. Then I read my email. I watched a couple videos without really paying attention, then listened to some music. It’s been a weird morning. I pulled my attention back to work, and got some things done, now I’m distracted and a bit irritable because somewhere, someone is vacuuming something rather loudly, and the noise is carried through the building – a high pitched whine that I could seriously do without. What a peculiar morning.

I make another cup of coffee. The noise of the vacuuming finally stops. My neck still aches, but I’m not in a bad mood over it. I look at the picture of the Giftmas tree that I snapped this morning on my way to work for some reason – just pure childlike delight, I suppose. I grin to myself happily in spite of the pain in my neck. It’ll pass, eventually. I breathe, exhale, and relax. Only two days to the Winter Solstice. Only a week until Giftmas. Just 13 days to an entirely new year year. Wow. 2025 already here? How the hell did that happen “so fast”? Was I just distracted with the work of worrying and caregiving all year long? Damn. Life feels pretty good right now. This moment right here? Quite a nice one. I smile and take it all in, and sit with these positive hopeful feelings awhile. Soon enough, it’ll be time to begin again, practicing practices, and walking my path. For now though, this moment is enough.

In spite of it having rained through the night, this picnic table I’m sitting on had a dry spot pretty much just the right size to comfortably sit for a few minutes. I can see the full moon peeking from the clouds as they drift past, under this natural awning of evergreen boughs. Nice spot to sit awhile in the pre-dawn darkness. I turn off my headlamp and enjoy the quiet moment. Somewhere in the distance I hear traffic, and the sound of human endeavors.

“Enjoy it while you can.” I think to myself. The world is messy and complicated and frankly a little scary. Talk of curtailing banking regulations that explicitly protect consumers and the potential withdrawal of approval of the fucking polio vaccine just terrify me. (Why would anyone even want these kinds of terrible changes?!) Not gonna lie – these are trying times, and I feel it. I make a point to take time to sit, to reflect on the things in life that matter and bring me joy, and to feel gratitude for the many advances humanity has made. The risks and problems that plague us all too often get all the attention.

… It’s important to give myself a break from all that…

I grin in the darkness, swinging my feet like an excited child when I think about Giftmas. The holiday is almost here! The shopping is done. Presents are wrapped and waiting under the tree. I’m eager to share that joy with my Traveling Partner. It’s good to see his progress as he continues to recover from his injury and subsequent surgery. I find myself “missing the man that he was” much less often, because I find him standing beside me once again so much more often, now. Feels good. Feels safe and encouraging. I fucking love this man, and he has become part of me. I’ve been tremendously worried for the past year, and it feels good to finally feel some relief from my fear and worry, and to feel truly hopeful again.

The moon appears again, fat and round and luminous, as if to say “I see you”. A spattering of raindrops fall from the branches overhead, shaken loose by the breeze. My heart feels full of goodness and hope and gratitude, and it’s a lovely feeling to start the day with. I glance at the time. It’s a work day. Time to get back on the path and head back to the car. Time to begin again.

It rained through the night, off and on. It was raining when I left the house this morning, heading for the trailhead up the road a way. The rain starts and stops. It’s fine. There’s plenty of space between the raindrops to walk, and I’ve got my cheap rain poncho. Good enough. It’s still raining, mostly, but not very hard, mostly. I’m okay with a little rain.

I’m fortunate to be near a bit of shelter when the sky breaks open and dumps an aggressive quantity of rain down, making a lot of puddles and a tremendous racket. For these few minutes, standing out of the rain, writing, I don’t hear my tinnitus at all. The rain is louder, pummeling the path, leaves, and marshy places, and hiding the full moon that had been lighting my way.

… Beautiful moon… beautiful rain storm… beautiful moment…

I sigh quietly and stand listening to the rain, and smelling the scents of autumn. Somewhere, someone has a fire going in their fireplace, reminding me that this hint of wild places between river and marsh is quite surrounded by suburban life. As the rain begins to slow down, I hear the familiar sound of traffic on the wet highway beyond this nature park. I can’t see it from this vantage point, only cloudy soggy sky overhead and silhouettes of trees along the path.

It’s a pleasant quiet moment. I’ve things to do later, mostly routine Sunday housework and a couple of errands, but also some gift wrapping to get done, and holiday cards to address and prepare for mailing. It feels a little last minute to be doing the cards in the middle of December, but they’ll likely reach their destinations in time, and it’s not worth any amount of stress, anyway. I choose to do them, it’s not a graded homework assignment. lol

The rain stops. Somewhere nearby the Canada geese are gronking. I wonder what may have disturbed their rest, then see a small light bobbing along. I’m apparently sharing the trail this morning. I finish up my writing. It’s time to walk on. The journey is the destination, and it’s a good time to begin again.

I don’t see the full moon until I reach the trailhead. It peeks out from between stormy clouds. The wind blows ferociously and the clock on my microwave alerted me this morning that at some point during the night the power had been out; the time was no longer set. The wind howls through bare trees, sounding a lot like winter, but the temperature is balmy, mild, and feels almost warm. Everything is soggy and a smattering of raindrops continues to fall. I sit contentedly on the hood of my car for a few minutes, boots on, cane beside me, ready to walk a couple miles along the edge of the marsh before the sun rises, trail faintly illuminated by the full moon.

… This? Right here, now? Excellent moment.

Stormy morning, full moon.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a Saturday morning, and I’m in no hurry. I’ve got the park and trail to myself, and that beautiful moon overhead. No reason to rush – and all the best reasons to savor this moment and be fully present in it. I take a few minutes to write some words; this is worth remembering, reinforcing, and reflecting upon, it’s that good.

The sprinkle of rain stops. It’s time to begin again.

The trailhead parking is thankfully empty today. My “extra headache” has abated (but my Traveling Partner and the Anxious Adventurer now seem to have it, so maybe some kind of illness going around). The rain has been quite light and intermittent. I swap my shoes for my hiking boots, expecting to get a walk in before work this morning.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. My neck aches ferociously and my tinnitus is quite loud this morning. Typical physical bullshit I deal with daily, and this morning I don’t let it wreck my mood. I am feeling the holiday spirit this year, more than some years. I enjoy the excitement and feeling of being “lifted up”. It’ll no doubt pass; most emotional experiences are very temporary. I’m okay with that. I’m enjoying it now, and listening to the rain fall. I’ve got holiday carols stuck in my head and just now realized I haven’t sent cards! LOL

… I guess I’ll do that this weekend…

It’s a nice morning for beginnings. I listen to the traffic rolling by on the wet highway. The rain has stopped, at least for now, and it’s definitely time to begin again. I grab my cane and my headlamp and get on with it.