Archives for posts with tag: spring flowers

A new day, a new beginning, eh? Gotta start somewhere. Breathe in. Breathe out. Repeat. Like a lot of mornings I woke with a song in my head. Why this one? No idea – it’s somewhere to begin, though.

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

So I begin the day reflecting on a song and a moment and wondering what my dreams may have been whispering in my ears during the night, and whether that matters at all.

Yesterday was strange. Filled with conversations about my Traveling Partner maybe being out for several hours or possibly overnight, or maybe not going anywhere at all. Suddenly, he was heading out. At that point it was unexpected, but I adapt quickly; I enjoy solitude at home, and it’s quite rare. It’s a busy workday for me. I eventually finish with that, do a couple things around the house, and shower. I sit down and put my feet up, and he’s letting me know he’s heading home. I chuckle to myself. Any little bit of disappointment I briefly feel is quickly washed away by my enthusiasm for his company. We’ve got a good thing. Solitude can wait, it always does. 😄

We shared a lovely quiet evening, no drama, no fussing, no weird hint of persistent anxiety in the background. We’re open to each other and converse easily without strain. How were the last 20 months so fucking difficult? I sigh to myself. People are who they are. They bring all the mess and bother and vexation within themselves along with them everywhere they go. They are each having their own experience, and walking their own path. This is true of my beloved Traveling Partner and of me, and of the Anxious Adventurer. I sigh to myself, grateful to have my space back, and my peace, and genial quiet evenings of effortless conversation and endless seeming moments of joy.

I sit watching the pearly pink sunrise from the side of the trail. Nice morning. I listen to a track my beloved shared with me. It is a deeply meaningful favorite.

My phone begins pinging me with work notifications. I ignore them; that time has not yet come. The awareness of a new work day encroaches on my peace though. I am reminded of the scramble and grind to “chase that bag” another day. I resent the weight we give nothing more significant than a paycheck. What about art? What about love? What about reasoned discourse among educated people? What about a moment alone on a trail in springtime? I laugh softly to myself. I know where I put the most value. Still , a paycheck is a useful thing and surviving “late stage capitalism” certainly seems easier with than without.

I sigh to myself again. Breathing in the cool floral scented Spring. I guess it’s time to begin again.

My last “proper day of vacation” began with some sleeping in – what a delightful luxury! I dressed and slipped out of the house without waking my Traveling Partner (as far as I know). I decided, yesterday, that today I’d make the drive to the coast and head down to Fogarty Creek, which has easy access to a small private feeling beach enclosed by steep rocky hillsides. The Oregon Coast Trail passes through there.

… Stormy clouds followed me, and I figured it might rain at some point, but I drove on, unconcerned, enjoying the absence of traffic (not another car on the road going my way, at all)…

Kite flying on a stormy morning seemed like a good idea to someone.

I parked with my coffee at a favorite spot with a great view of the ocean. The tide is coming in, and in a few more minutes it’ll be high tide, according to the tide table, but not the highest high tide today. That’ll be later, shortly before sundown, and long after I’ve returned home.

The first rain drops tap the windshield gently, and then it’s just straight up raining. Last time I made Fogarty Creek my destination, it also rained (a drenching deluge blown sideways by fierce storm winds). Today I can see breaks in the storm gray clouds overhead, so perhaps the rain will pass quickly. No matter. I actually don’t care much about the weather today, I’m enjoying my time (and my coffee) anyway. I sit watching a man on the beach persisting in trying to fly his kite in spite of the rain.

The drive over to the coast was beautiful. The roadside slopes and ditches were in bloom with plentiful pink foxgloves and purple vetch, and blackberry brambles covered in clouds of pretty white flowers. The air smelled fresh and sweet. No traffic at all was a nice treat. No traffic = no stress. It was fun.

…So this is 62? So far so good…

I sip my coffee, sitting contentedly with my thoughts on a rainy morning, listening to the raindrops on the roof of the car. I’m enjoying the pleasant relaxed vibe of having nothing specific to do and nowhere I need to be. I savor the moment, because this too will pass; moments are fleeting, and a mortal lifetime is brief. It’s enough to enjoy the moment as it is. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I think of my Traveling Partner and hope he has a lovely day relaxing or working, whatever suits him most.

I sigh to myself as the rain slows to a few random drops. Soon enough, I’ll finish the drive. There’s no rush, and the journey is the destination. It hardly matters whether I drive further down the coast or sit contentedly right here. What matters most is simply to enjoy the moment…

…Then begin again.

What a beautiful morning! The sunrise was nearly over when I reached the trailhead. I hit the trail as soon as my boots were on. The sky was hues of tangerine and peach, and the sun was a deep orange as it rose. Mt Hood was a misty lavender silhouetted against the colorful sunrise and I walked eastwards, shading my eyes from the glare, full of a sense of wonder.

… I didn’t think to take a picture, I was immersed in experiencing the moment…

The trail takes a turn into the trees, if I bear left where it divides. Everything is so green! It’s that time in Spring when all the marsh and meadow grasses are rich hues of green, the trees are fully dressed in their Spring finery, and all of the Spring-blooming flowers present colorful accents to the lush assortment of greens everywhere I look. So beautiful! I walk with my thoughts, grinning to myself. Robins call to each other. A young blue jay follows my progress on the trail, flitting from tree to tree, watching me.

Spring.

Later a bit of housework, maybe some gardening, definitely a stop at a local nursery to inspire (and soothe) me after yet another sighting of the doe eating my damned garden. I laugh in spite of my frustration. I’d rather deal with the deer than not have a garden at all.

I think about animes that we’re watching as a family, and their common themes of growth over time, and the will to act, and the need to persist in the face of hardship and challenges. I find them inspiring (even when a little ludicrous and exaggerated). There are useful moral lessons in those animes that are nothing to do with any one religion or school of thought, and everything to do with becoming one’s best self, and living ethically and making wise choices. They present stories of complexity and demonstrate the importance of compassion, consideration, and perspective. They teach with kindness, humor, and art. It’s a world worth exploring.

I sigh, sitting in the sunshine at my halfway point watching a doe standing quietly in the adjacent meadow, nibbling at the grasses. She bolts when I turn my camera in her direction and the picture I snap is blurry.

I sit awhile longer with my thoughts, ignoring physical pain in favor of enjoying the sunshine. I should definitely make time for the garden…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Lovely morning for it. I wonder where the day will take me? The air smells sweet with wildflowers. I sneeze a couple times and laugh at myself – I don’t care about the sneezes nearly as much as I enjoy the fragrance of flowers. I’m glad I shoved a pack of tissues in my pocket, though. Handy. Another breath, another moment with my thoughts. Soon it’ll be time to walk back down the trail and begin again.

I got a nice walk in, early this morning. The scent of early blooming roses greeted me on my way out. My tinnitus followed me everywhere. It’s a new day.

looks like a nice one

I breathe  exhale, and relax. New routine begins today. I wonder what that looks like? I’ve got more than typical flexibility for figuring that out, these days. I’m very fortunate. I sit quietly with that awareness, grateful. Life hasn’t always been so (relatively) easy. It’s a good idea to feast on that with humility and gratitude, and simple awareness. (Builds resilience for future more difficult times.)

My Traveling Partner pings me good morning, and the day feels like it has really begun. I feel hopeful, encouraged, and enthusiastic, in spite of this headache and my tinnitus shrieking and buzzing in my ears. First work day after my camping trip… feels weird. lol

…Anyway. It’s time to begin again, and see where the day takes me.

I’m waiting for the sunrise and for the park gate to open. It’s a quiet, pleasant Saturday morning. There’s nothing much unusual about these circumstances, although there are obvious differences,  and subtler ones too. One obvious difference; I drove the pickup instead of my Mazda this morning, at my Traveling Partner’s request (so it isn’t just parked for weeks at a time). Subtle differences include things like the changing timing of the dawn, and changes in my subjective experience resulting from recent changes in medication.

…I snap a couple pictures of the sunrise…

A picture barely captures the experience.

The gate clangs open. I move the truck into the parking lot. Time to set this aside for later and hit the trail…

…Some time later…

The mild Spring morning delights my senses. The air is fresh with only a hint of chill that I don’t feel at all after a couple minutes of walking. The trail crunches under my feet, and small twigs snap when I step on them. Canada geese overhead call to each other. I hear the sound of traffic on the highway, near but unseen. The sound of the river soon drowns out the sound of traffic. The flowering trees have me sneezing and stuffy pretty quickly, in spite of taking allergy medication this morning. I don’t really care about that, but I notice. I enjoy the scents of the various flowers mingling in the fresh morning air. The somewhat heavy cloying fragrance reaches me in spite of my stuffy-then-runny-then-stuffy nose. I manage to be delighted by the scent of Spring in spite of the allergic reaction.

I walk on. Small mammals scurry across the path. I see migrating birds, and a small herd of deer. I spot nutria playing along the edge of the marsh. I have the trail to myself this morning and I savor the experience as I walk. I breathe in the Spring air. I exhale, relax, and continue to walk. My tracker buzzes me when I hit one mile. Again when I reach the next quarter mile. I’m  pleased with my progress and head back toward the parking. 2.5 today. Nice. 90 minutes with occasional stops for views or pictures. I’ve been working on improving my pace and increasing my distance and I feel pretty good about the walk this morning.

…By the time I reach the truck my ankle is aching, and I am grateful for good boots with ankle support and a good quality trekking cane. I may pay for my progress with some discomfort but it’s a worthy tradeoff, I think.

I sit quietly with my thoughts for some little while. These solitary minutes are precious to me. I drink water and consider my shopping list and errands I need to run, later, and things I would like to do in the garden. Looks like a lovely day for it.

The blue sky overhead reminds me that it’s time to begin again.