Been Thinking

Did y'all notice the rain's back? It's okay. It's only February. It's only water. Last week's epic global-warming weather, though, or the February fakeout, or whatever it was, got me thinking about this one camping trip last summer and how I want to go back to there. Soon. As soon as possible, really.

The spot's at the beach up on a little hillside—a hideaway from such things as people and wind. To the west: the Pacific ocean and then Japan.

It's where we staggered up a dune and watched the sun disappear. It's where I tucked my tent into this magnificent tree grove and then popped my air mattress on a branch. It's where we abandoned the fire to roam the beach in the dark, discovering how bioluminescent algae made our steps glow in the wet sand. It's where I kicked the dog out of the tent due to mouth breathing and he never even wandered off—just lay there on guard all night as dictated by the primal purpose of his species and breed. It's where, the next morning, we woke up thirsty and hungover—but then pooled the rest of our water to make everyone a cup of coffee.

The Heart Turned Sideways Is An Arrow

For Valentine's Day, a pair of lovely visitors from the Bay Area. A clutch distraction from such things as heart-shaped balloons.

Like Leonard says, "Let's not talk of love and chains and things we can't untie."

And so Tricia and Cairo swooped in just as I was devising an escapist's strategy to the Feb 14 holiday. They bought me flowers. They drank morning tea at my kitchen table, making the whole scene look decidedly cute. They surveyed waterfalls and caught sweeping wilderness views with me. They joined me for tacos. They drove when I'd drank too much.

The sun was out the entire time and the dog was happier than he'd been in weeks. Truth: Spring is coming, and rad functional couples like T and C really do exist. Ain't life grand?!

  

Tippy tops.

Northwest Passage

Arose somewhat late on Tuesday after working all weekend and did things I liked. Such as scaling a goddamn mountain.

Hiking's kind of weird, isn't it? Just walking. But it's nice.

Anyway, Hamilton Mountain. The trail was very steep, winding through dark, quiet woods that may have been haunted, cutting across barren meadows that fell steeply into thin air. I overheated and then froze in the crazy wind. But the view. The frickin view!

To the East: Idaho and a veil of rain. To the West: silver river waters rolling straight into the sea. You get a sense of perspective up there, comprehending how glaciers carved out all of the valleys and that the looming cliffs really do wear the stains of the ages. As I've said elsewhere, catching a view like this can be, if you let it, kinda cosmic—the sort of thing us non-“devout” folks do to appreciate the mysteries of the universe. And so on.

Winter War

When I did my Year In Pictures, the thought that life really is better in the summer crossed my mind. It just gives you a nice feeling, scrolling through the months and seeing things get warmer and warmer. Bare branches and billows of fog replaced by vermillion blooms. Dark bars and beanies switched out for beer glasses sparkling like jewels in the sun.

Winter's dark. Especially so far north, so deep into the rain forest. But I like to think of us as warriors this time of year. Everyday, refusing to just stay in bed like we want to. Everyday, working, skating, laughing—continuing life, really, even through the dark, dampness, and gloom.

Also! We need winter I reckon—even the kind of winter we have here in the Northwest. It's restorative, for one, and, like Rilke says, it gives you all that time to propagate your "inner life":

"Tending my inner garden went splendidly this winter. Suddenly to be healed again and aware that the very ground of my being — my mind and spirit — was given time and space in which to go on growing; and there came from my heart a radiance I had not felt so strongly for a long time…"

So anyway, here's to winter, and to seeing y'all on the other side.

Traditions/Habits

Christmas holiday in Colorado where my fam lives. It’s a tradition. Do you have those? I don't really, just habits. But “traditions” sounds nicer.

Seems like there’s always a good reason to go home this time of year, although sometimes it’s not to celebrate. That’s okay. Just gathering together with the people who gave you life and share your blood is a kinda powerful observance on its own.

Everything was irrefutably caked in snow.

I took nephew Pat to the ski mountain, and we spent the day lost in winding tree trails.

I got a sturdy pair of kitchen sheers, for snipping the shit out of chives and such.

I smelled salted caramel.

I ate toasted pecans.

I watched the dog eat scraps of shiny paper.

Now won’t it be grand when all this holiday crap is over??