Archives for category: Words

I woke gently to my alarm brightening the room. I dressed, and slipped away quietly after I watered the lawn. Today I headed south, back to Basket Slough, but I took an alternate turn into the park, to a different trailhead, and a different perspective. Sometimes I need fresh perspective.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I parked and sat for a few minutes, listening to the sounds of the birds. So many! This trail is at the base of the hills which the trail on the other side of the park climbs into. There is a lake nearby, and this lowland trail leads to and alongside it, if the map is to be believed.

Where this trail leads.

… The map is not the world…

I set off down the trail shortly after daybreak. It is a mild morning, a bit cool, and the air smells of meadow flowers. There are so many different bird songs, even the gronking of geese and the quacking of ducks. The morning sky is cloudy.

A new day, a new path, a new beginning; bring your verbs!

I step down the trail feeling sure footed and unbothered. Lovely morning for it. I stay alert for creatures, and spot bunnies and chipmunks, and signs of something larger – maybe a skunk? Little birds everywhere.

Natural camouflage.

I keep heading down the path. I’m not expecting any sort of convenient stopping place but I happen upon a badly deteriorated primitive bench. It’s enough for a few minutes off my feet, writing. I pause for awhile.

A bench, a view, a moment.

The morning begins to feel quite chilly as I sit with my thoughts. I’m okay with that, I wore suitably warm clothing for a chilly morning.

I reflect on the weekend thus far. It’s been a pleasant one. My Traveling Partner has gotten some work done. We enjoyed some time together flying our drones (I’m still very much a beginner, still learning the basics). Unexpectedly gusty winds brought us down early, but it was incredible to see my drone in the air.

…I still have so much to learn..!

I sit looking out over the water, thinking thoughts about life, feeling strangely sleepy. I watch bunnies venture out onto the trail. They watch me. I watch them. I think about life. I think about laundry. I watch a bird of prey sailing on the air currents overhead.

I watch dawn become a new day.

Damn… I think I could use a nap! I laugh to myself. A nap would certainly be on the other side of the walk back to the parking, which seems now to be so much more distant. 😆 The walk… the drive…a shower… I’ll need to begin again to get there at all!

… That is the way of things. It is necessary to pick a step forward and get started to get anywhere…

I yawn and stretch and get to my feet. Maybe also some dusting and vacuuming? It’s on my list… and it’s time to begin again. Some moments are beautiful walks along a lakefront trail. Some moments are housework. It’s definitely time to begin again.

I woke early, with my alarm. I dressed quickly and quietly, and watered the lawn before heading for the trail. I arrived just at daybreak – ostensibly when this park opens – and as I drove into the park to the trailhead, I passed one, then another parked car. Imagine my surprise (and, frankly, my irritation) to see random cars parked willy-nilly on the narrow access road. These were no early morning hikers, either, these were over night visitors or people parked out of view, sleeping in their cars.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I sigh crossly, grateful I don’t speed down this road in the twilight of dawn. I easily could have hit one of them, parked well into the road (there being no parking at all along the access road and no pullouts).

I get to the trailhead parking. Another overnighter parked in just the stupidest fashion in a spot very much outside the actual parking and blocking the path down to a lovely river view. I swear to myself, thoroughly vexed by this bullshit. I start down the path, stepping around the truck quietly, and find myself startled by the guard dog chained beneath the truck, who lunges at me barking furiously. Well fuck that shit. I turn back even more annoyed, but not wishing to risk a dog bite.

…G’damn, fuck rude people abusing park spaces with their entitled bullshit…

I turn down a different path as I wonder “who even does this shit?!”, but I don’t really want to know – I just want my peaceful morning walk. Disappointing start. I inhale the fragrant summer air as I walk down the path into the meadow. It had been dense clover, blooming with sweet smelling purple flowers only a couple weeks ago. It has been mown since then. The tidy arrangement of rows makes me wonder what sort of farm equipment was used for the purpose. The view isn’t as lovely as when the meadow is lush and blooming. An altogether disappointing start to the day.

I get to my halfway point on this loop trail.  The rock I generally sit on has a fat pile of dog shit dropped right next to it. Gross. “Fucking hell, people, clean up after your g’damned dogs”, I mutter crossly as I walk on. I have the recollection of a convenient rock or log somewhere along here… Now my walk becomes a vigilant search for somewhere to sit, instead of a peaceful, mindful, meditative progression of steps on a path. 

…I feel my awareness of my own disappointment begin to evolve into seething irritation, almost anger, that sits at the edge of becoming a feeling of entitlement…

I sigh and stop. I just stop on the trail and stand for a moment, listening to the birds chirping, peeping, and singing. I lean against a large-ish maple of some kind, resting my feet. My back aches already, today. My tinnitus whines loudly in my ears, and I focus on the birds singing to assure myself that the tinnitus isn’t “real” and hasn’t actually deafened me. I breathe, exhale, and relax.

… It’s a beautiful moment, in a lovely spot along a wooded trail, on a cloudy summer morning. It’s worth redirecting my attention to here, now…

I let my irritation and disappointment dissipate. I watch robins foraging in the leaf litter at the edge of the trail. It’s a beautiful quiet morning. I hear Spring Valley Creek trickling past nearby, unseen beyond the thicket of shrubs and berry vines. Young chipmunks chase each other through the trees. The leaves of the trees shake and rustle in the breeze. The clouds hint at rain that may not come and I find myself wondering why I am in so much pain this morning? I have no enthusiasm for the work I committed to helping my beloved Traveling Partner with, today, but maybe I’ll feel more like it later. I don’t dwell on it, or on my pain.

I walk on down the path, and find myself in a pleasant glade near a bend in the path. There is an old picnic table tucked back away from the trail, in a regrettable state of disrepair, but adequate as a place to sit that isn’t on the ground (harder to get back up at 63 than it would have been at 30).  I sit awhile. I write. I meditate. I wait on a moment that hasn’t yet arrived. I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s so easy to take shit personally that isn’t personal at all. Reality isn’t going to bother with correcting our mistakes for us, it will simply punish us when we’re incorrect. I sigh to myself and remind myself to do something about my pain when I get back to the car.

I don’t bother with the news today. Why would I? Ads. AI slop. Sponsored content. Cookies. Paywalls. Slanted opinions instead of clean emotionally neutral factual reporting, or honest authentic and explicitly stated personal biases revealed openly. All of it on repeat, and supplemented by copies of copies of copies shared across media groups and individuals. Completely pointless, and all of it seriously joy destroying crap targeted at getting all of us to pay someone for something. Bleh. No thanks. I sigh, feeling a little impatient even having the thought, and pull my attention back to “now”.

“View of the Willamette River” “7 x “9.5”, soft pastel on Pastelmat

It’s not reliably easy to find, make, or preserve our peace or our joy. There are verbs involved, and a willingness to persist. I’ve been finding it helpful to spend more time in my studio, painting. I smile to myself; the view I missed this morning is the view I painted from memory last night. I find some little bit of comfort, joy, and peace in that idea.

I take a deep breath of the cool summer air, smelling the scent of recently mown clover mingling with the scent of wildflowers. A bird of prey somewhere nearby screams about whatever is on their mind. The chipmunks all vanish. This moment may not be “perfect” (what ever is?), but it is mine, and it is enough. I think about the day ahead and wonder if my partner is also in more than usual pain this morning?

… Sometimes the best I can do is to keep walking, putting one foot after the other, until I get somewhere. Each day offers a new beginning, and each moment is a new chance at peace and joy. What will I do with it (besides “my best”)? The clock is ticking – today I feel it more. The clouds overhead are definitely threatening rain now – I guess it’s a good time to begin again.

It’s a pretty morning. Nothing fancy, a pretty sunrise, a nice walk on a summer morning, and it is Friday. The morning is chilly, the sky is a clear and soft cerulean blue hue, with faintly yellow edges down low on the horizon.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I walk thinking about stress, anxiety, mental health, and what it takes to thrive when the news of the day is a toxic cocktail of AI slop, advertising, and propaganda with only a sprinkling of actual news thrown in (most of it bad).

… Maybe I should paint more..?

Yesterday evening, background stress I wasn’t explicitly aware I was carrying got identified and called out by my Traveling Partner, gently. Instead of fussing resentfully, I used the opportunity to head to my studio. The timing seemed excellent for it; I’ve been trying to nudge myself to paint more – and more often! This turned out to be a good choice.

Untitled pastel, 5″ x 7″ 2026

Make of it what you will.

I definitely need to paint more! I sigh contentedly from the side of the trail. Beautiful morning, sunshine illuminating the tall oaks and the tidy vineyards. I feel inspired and unbothered.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Nice morning for meditation. A good morning to begin again.

I have a splitting headache and my sleep was interrupted. I’m tired and cross, and feeling very much that I’d like to be left alone. I’m grateful for these few moments of solitude in the morning.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I’m sitting at the edge of this trail wondering. I take a welcome sip of the coffee I carried down the trail with me. The morning feels chilly. It’s probably me, not the weather. The coffee is warm in my mouth and down my throat. I’m grateful for the moment of self-consideration that directed my groggy decision making this morning. Coffee sooner was a good choice this morning.

Tears fill my eyes and threaten to spill over. I brush them away angrily. “I don’t have time for this weak ass shit this morning,” I snarl to myself softly, “and fuck this headache, too.” My tinnitus is loud in my ears. I didn’t get enough restful sleep (haven’t for days) and my thought processes are slowed way down. My pain is poorly managed. I’m feeling very human and very fragile. My eyes sting from tears that finally begin to fall. Too much? Not enough? I feel broken and out of alignment. Out of step. Faltering on a path that has seemed certain and clear on other days.

… Moments pass…

I’m finding little reassurance in aphorisms and platitudes this morning. This morning I am uncomfortable with uncertainty and impermanence, and I feel myself clinging. Wanting certainty so much. Yeah… good luck with that shit. I take a deep breath in, and as I exhale I find myself weeping. Just fucking crying by the side of this trail, sitting in the summer sunshine on some random Thursday morning. Wondering.

…Is the sky still blue…?

I begin again. Breathe, exhale, relax. I shift gears. Meditation. Failure. Breathe. Repeat. The morning is not off to an ideal beginning. I’m struggling with my demons, and although for the moment I’ve got some sort of tearful stalemate, I still feel pretty shitty. My pain meds begin to kick in. So does the coffee. Eventually, I’ll “mask up” – put my work face on – and begin the work day. I don’t know, maybe the utterly disappointing ordinariness of it all will anchor me to here, now, and I’ll feel less hopeless.

… The clock is ticking…

The sunshine in the oak trees is beautiful. The air smells sweet. Songbirds sing merry songs. The tidy vineyard rows are a playground for so many little birds. I watch them flitting about, and try to identify as many as I recognize, but don’t put much effort into it. I am distracted and preoccupied. I keep letting this shit go. I breathe, exhale, and relax… and find myself back in the mire again and again.

I sigh out loud, frustrated with myself and the shitty start to the day. (And also? Fuck this headache.) I watch the dawn become day. Sooner or later, I’ve got to begin again… only I don’t know where this path leads, and I lack enthusiasm for walking it.

… This too will pass. Everything does. Change is.

The room spun when I woke. It was ahead of my alarm, but I had reset it when I went back to bed after spending awhile during the wee hours up with my Traveling Partner. I still managed to wake up by 05:00. I would have preferred to sleep longer.

… I laugh at myself softly; I had crashed out still dressed, having taken my boots off, and my hearing aids out. It didn’t take long to get up and get going with that kind of “head start”. 😆

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

Getting to walk the trail from beginning to end in full morning sunlight is a treat. I don’t rush, I savor it. I sort of have to; the mild vertigo I woke with persists. I’m glad I can rely on my cane for support. I proceed down the familiar path with caution, thinking about my Traveling Partner and hoping he got some rest. (Probably not; he pings me a good morning greeting as I walk, and it’s still pretty early.)

Headache, tinnitus, vertigo, arthritis pain… As I walk I take inventory and get a sense of my comfort and what kind of self-care and support I need to provide myself, today. Busy day ahead. I try to remember why… Right. An audit. I sigh to myself. A good night of rest would have been preferred, but being there for my partner still feels like the better choice. I keep walking, turning my attention to the morning sights and scents. There is a beautiful clear blue sky. The trees are decked out in deep green summer foliage. Meadow wildflowers encroach on tidy vineyard rows.

I get to my halfway point. I won’t stop as long this morning. I have less time. I’m not even bitching, just being aware of the time and my preferred timing. Up nearly two hours later than a typical morning, it doesn’t throw off my timing for the rest of the day much at all. I’m grateful for the reduction in potential stress that provides. Grateful that hang ups over time and timing no longer set off a panic attack if I am a few minutes late, or miss an alarm. That’s a lot more progress than one sentence can carry.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I make time for meditation. The vertigo? It will pass. The rest? I have tools to cope with most of that adequately well. It’s enough.

Coffee next. I sigh and stretch and look down the sunny trail. Time to begin. Again.