I'm an intense, hyperactive woman with an imagination in overdrive who loves her Husby, her two Wonder Wieners, and her emerging career as an author and photographer.

Monday, August 28

Dream Weaver

Two teenage girls overheard in the campground bathroom:

One: Your hair looks cute like that.

Two: Cute? I haven't showered in three days.

One: Eww, gross. Laugh. Me either.

Two: At least I don't smell. Sniff. Hmmm, then again…

One: At least the smell of the campfire covers it up.

Two: Yeah, I'd rather smell like fire pit than just pits.

Yesterday, the fortune in my cookie read: You will have a close encounter of a surprising kind.

Today, a red-headed turkey vulture hit my car as I rounded a corner on a deserted road, and disturbed him feasting on a dead deer by the roadside. Later in the day, I rounded another bend, and there was another deer, completely unafraid of my presence. She looked at me directly and, slowly and calmly, walked away into the woods. The spirit of Deer who had died walked gently into heaven, smiling at me as she went. As the sun set, I waded into Lake Ozette up to my shins. The water, crystal clear. I could see every pebble, stone, and stick resting on the bottom. My feet stirred up a sediment. After a few minutes standing still in the lake, listening to the water ripple, watching the reeds gently sway in the breeze, I looked down and saw the sediment settled onto the tops of my feet. I was already claimed as part of the landscape. I asked my totem animals to visit me. I dreamed that when I awoke in the morning, and opened my tent flap, Swan was standing right there, staring me in the face. In my surprise, I froze. She arched forward and bit me sharply on the nose. Hey! What did you do that for? She turned tail and waddled away, saying, Wake Up, You! I wonder what she wants me to wake up to? I have more dreaming to do.

Tomorrow, I'll drive past Crescent Lake, and be reminded of a motorcycle trip, long ago, supposed to be a one-dayer, with Husby and I, Crowe, and Derek and CJ. As soon as we hit the Olympic Peninsula, it started to rain. Cold rain. We stopped in Port Angeles for chowder and cocoa, and Derek and CJ decided to turn around at that point, mumbling some excuse about needing to prepare to go to a wedding the next day. Crowe and Husby and I continued on to Sol Duc Hot Springs, getting there with only about 1/2 hour left to soak. Cold and tired, we decided on the spur of the moment to rent a cabin for the night. We bought a deck of cards and some junk food at the camp store. Crowe parked his bike on the porch. The next morning dawned clear and bright. As we saddled up and headed out, there was a dusting of snow on the very tops of the mountains surrounding the lake. On this recent Olympic Peninsula trip, I had very selective eyes. I saw only people together, no one alone like me. I didn't see anybody that wasn't with somebody. That is what I am struggling with more than the fact that this project will be a lot of work for what may be little reward.


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