To August
August has its very own feeling. It's quieter than June and July. The summer ends softly, like a feather floating to the ground.
I am looking forward to the calm in which to read, to walk, to wonder, to do nothing at all. There's ripe tomatoes in my garden and I'll make a galette. Work-life balance will flow naturally. Contentment will be achieved. This is my plan for August. I wouldn't be me, though, if I didn't know that plans, like rules, have a way of getting broken ...
Favorites 7.27.15
Summer rain when you're tired: Rain—it's only water. But when you wake up sore and tired, the sound of it falling can be the best noise on earth. Stay in bed ... just stay.
Coconut oil in my coffee: I used to take milk in my coffee. Now I like it like I like my men—straight up and strong. However. A little coconut oil makes black coffee really smooth, gives it substance, takes the edge off. As a rule, I'm okay with edges, though.
Grilled "cheese" at the Bye And Bye: Grilled cheese—I love it, you love it, we all love it. This one's vegan, though—made with a swashbuckling amount of Daiya cheddar. You can't not eat the entire thing.
Ex Machina: Creepy. Haunting. Gripping. Beautiful. A Blade Runner for the new era. If you haven't seen it, do.
Sk-amping In Central Oregon
I have been known to mismanage my weekends, but this past weekend wasn't one of those weekends. Instead of lurking in town and going to bars, we all packed up and drove to Bend on Friday after work—pulling into town right at dusk, right when the air turned all quiet and cool.
Our intention was to camp, which we promptly did in our pal Brandon's backyard. It was already dark when we pulled in. It stayed dark while we set up our tents and sat there drinking homemade wine, always throwing more wood on the fire. In the full light of morning, however, each of us crawled out of our tents to discover the magical view above. A big veggie garden, a chicken coop, and a private backyard skatepark. Brandon's really got a good thing going.
Aaanyway, after that, Bend's new skatepark to sweat and fall down. And after that, the prettiest swim spot on the pristine Deschutes River—which, as often happens way out in the mountains, we had all to ourselves in order to properly celebrate Toby's birthday.
That night, we camped in Sisters under centuries-old pine trees. The milky way, I need to report, was impossibly bright. Everyone told stories, and the dogs laid there at our feet—happy to be outside like all the other forest animals, happy to be wild, to be dirty, to be free.
That is, ultimately, the beauty of camping.
Thursday Happened
In regards to Thursday, it rained. Just in the morning, just for a minute. It had been so long since this happened though that at first I didn't understand. I just looked out the window wondering why the air look all strange and smudgey like that. Then I heard the noise—like pebbles on corrugated tin, and smelled the scent—like dirt and leaves and other forest mysteries.
In the same way that thinking about death clarifies your life, a nice rainstorm now and then—well it purifies that sunlight that's surely to follow.
Three Things
Secret pools. I'm happy to live in a place where people appreciate the value of being out in nature, sure, but I'm happier still to escape those crowded trails—to find a hidden path like we did the other day, one that that leads you around a corner and out of site.
Walking to work. Hey it's just a 3.5-mile wander from Northeast to Southeast through neighborhoods crammed with roses and butterfly bush, past intriguing "free piles" sprinkled on street corners and people laughing loudly in crowded cafes or sitting quietly on shady front porches. I do it once a week—7 miles round trip. Part of the 2015 Sherowski Improvement Plan ...
Fresh figs. In July, the neighbor's fig tree droops over my driveway—heavy with about a hundred bursting-ripe figs. Until now, it never occurred to me to eat them. It only ever occurred to me to rake their sticky guts off the cement after they turn. Anyway, last weekend I bit into one for the first time. Lightly sweet and perfumey. A summer breeze in yer mouth. I picked a bunch and have a heaping bowl—come over and eat one!
