Travel Portrait 29
The Lite Imaging of Pithy Epiphanies
August 15, 2010 [listen]

The Lite Imaging of Pithy Epiphanies

Water falls, then evaporates, clouding the 'lustration of photo synthesis. A trial surveys, then abates, appraising tribulations of stress.

Saturday: August 7, 2010

There is nothing lamentable about the conclusion of a midlife crisis except that you stop crying, and you stop hating the world. Most of all, you stop blaming the people around you--and worse, you stop blaming yourself. (I am not happy, nor am I moping. Anger? Fear?? Numbness??? Nope.)

I ran away from home today, and headed for the mountains. Indeed, being just a few hours away, by car, from the city allots for a slightly scurried commute back to the office on Monday, which should not be too much to manage, if I depart early enough. Yet the distance from the city will, hopefully, allow me to peacefully decompress in this destined town. (However, what instinct has driven me here?) Fortunately, I was able to make last minute accommodations at a reasonable rate.

Before checking in, I went to the Visitor Center to get some information about the forest and the waterfall. (The plan was to rise and shine with the sun in the woods.) I forgot to ask the park ranger where the supermarket was, so I had to remember to ask the motel registrar for the location before being handed the key to the king-sized bedroom.

"One block down the road, on the left."

With groceries in hand, I got back a moment before the local news [6:00 pm]. I ate rotisserie chicken, blue cheese, grape tomatoes and microwave popcorn [movie flavor]. To augment the chicken, I got some steak sauce. Mineral water re-hydrated the paste forming in my mouth, concocting a flavor different from the initial intake.

"I'll have to try this one again," I thought.

After supper and the news, I fell asleep (while on vacation, scandal). I was awakened by my cell phone, which was resting on the side table [9:00 pm]. However, I was too deep in slumber to be able to figure out where the ringing originated. I missed the call. Once less groggy, some minutes later, I returned the rang. Afterward, I fell back asleep and woke up three-quarters of an hour prior to my 4:45 am alarm. (I have not dozed like this in a long while!)

Sunday: August 8, 2010

I had not studied the map well enough to realize that I had not driven far enough up the highway to my desired destination. The road into this section of the forest was closed. The waterfall, I thought I was headed towards, was actually the name of the town. (I am not sure--too busy following instincts).

"Besides campers," I reflected, "who, on a Sunday at this hour, would be in the wilderness?"

Discouraged, I turned back. This spontaneous, now upstream, weekend migration would have to wait until after I got my bearings situated. I stopped off to fill the car's tank and to cup a coffee at the "gas and guzzle" mart.

What I wanted was my prosaic television, meal and wits. Fortunately, the first half of this day's programming, that I watch, was in "summer" rerun mode, and the second half would be online on demand by the evening. (I would watch these shows later.) Reclining on pillows while in bed, I ate leftover dinner for breakfast, which I did not mind. The time spent watching the broadcast sated my sedentary habit without impinging too much upon satisfying this urge for bucolic concreteness. Replete, I re-read the road-map and got a better picture of where I was going. I made a second attempt to walk through the woods, taking a hike to the waterfall.