Of nature, trains, and warning labels.

Some thoughts and happenings over the past couple of weeks:


-Road trip with my husband, involving copious amounts of David Sedaris, Bob Dylan, and Crosby Stills & Nash.

-Visiting my sweet grandmother, who is very sick. 


- I am realizing more than ever how grateful I am for the wonder that is nature, and how it tends to make everything make sense. 

Delightful Discoveries:


-I officially, absolutely despise huge masses of people gathered in one place. I suppose Woodstock would've proven to be quite traumatic for me. 


-I've recently heard that coffee is good for the functioning of the gall bladder. Seeing as I no longer have one, I feel it's counterproductive. It doesn't matter really, because I love coffee regardless. However, I have discovered that a soy chai latte with a pinch of cinnamon can quench the most dire of thirsts, and therefore coffee has taken a back seat- for now. 


-I DON'T GET SICK LIKE I USED TO ON ROAD TRIPS! (see above--lack of gall bladder)


-While in Colorado, David and I spent some lazy afternoons enjoying some quality cloud watching.
My most prized cloud discovery looked like a monkey head turtle baby with a beard. David's was a dragon giving birth to a sea urchin. 


-I can't help but hold my breath when passing over a railroad track.

I love railroads. Coincidentally, I also love trains. I have a distinct mental image (most likely due to folk songs and the overall romanticizing tendency of the entertainment industry), of a runaway with a knapsack mounted on his shoulder, seated at the edge of an open, dark boxcar, racing the moon into the night with hopes and dreams of arriving somewhere better than the place he left. 

They are a rustic, timeless reminder of what once was. 

I like having them around.

 

?:

• Why do they always have the ugliest cartoon babies on warning labels? 
• Why are rest stops always run by scary people?
• Why is John Denver's voice the most hauntingly ethereal thing to listen to while driving through high mountain peaks?
• I just couldn't tell you, my uncomfortable friend. 

 Happenings:

Also while in Colorado, David and I were able to dig out my grandmother's old banjo from the rubble of a storage boxcar (yet another reason why trains and their byproducts are completely worthwhile). She used to play it in accompaniment with my great grandfather, who, "made the fiddle sing." 
She hadn't seen it in 75 years. 


My favorite part of the trip was going to the mountains with David. There is a beautiful little cabin there that my great grandparents built. We had a picnic and then hiked up to The Big Rock, which is a gigantic boulder where my siblings and I played as kids. 
This is the very spot where David proposed to me, a year ago. 

                                                     I don't have a picture of it, but this is nice too. 


Down past the cabin is an open field with a river next to it. While at the river, it started to rain. 
Then it started to pour. 
Then it started to hail. 
Screaming like idiots, we ran through the field as hail pounded mercilessly upon us, gasping and dramatically tripping over bushes. It was at this moment in time that I seriously entertained the thought of working out regularly again.
By the time we reached the car, it miraculously stopped. I see what you did there, rain maker.


Thoughts:


-Settling into married life is a dream. 


-I like the white noise sound that water makes. 


-Living is easy with eyes closed. (but uneventful)


-"I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to become." - Carl Gustav Jung


-There are wonderful things to be done.