Monday, September 01, 2008

Labour Day, 2008

It takes longer to get places when one's mouth is constantly gaping open at yet another fantastic view of landscape. All the pictures are true and then some. I know that if I lived here, I would become inured to the beauty in the same way I stopped noticing the "lovely flowers" along the train tracks in England's early May ("Do you mean the weeds on the embankments?" my cousin replied.) after several trips up to London. That said, I am still driving only about 300km/day and it's taking me most of the day to do that what with stops and looks and dawdling. I have an expanded understanding of the The Sr Boy and am trying not to be regretful for not knowing this sooner.

Things that have caught my attention:

Torrey, UT - (another of TSB's "places") is a tree-lined, funky motel/coffee shop/galleried widening in the road with a 3-way corner around which the motorcyclists buzz on their various rides: there is no "where" to go, simply to "go".

The thunderstorm two nights ago over top of the Richfield koakampground that lasted for about two hours with less than 6 seconds between every flash and crash. I cuddled up in the car with my $1 book sale book from Torrey for a fine dinner of Dead Horse beer, crackers, avocado (did you know they sell them ripe here? Guess it helps to be close to the source.), and homous.

Silence is possible even in a campground and it is wonderful and restful.

The ancient Fremont and current Hopi Indian culture is more creative than the US Hwys Dept. Some would say it wouldn't take much but who else would have thought of putting a seems-to-be-working curse on the "so sad, too bad" Hwy Dept?

Laundry will dry just not until the rain stops and then it will only take about 30 minutes in the wind.

Bryce Canyon may be wonderful but the 2nd coming will have fewer people milling about and trying to get sorted. Ruby's Inn may be an outpost of Hades for those of us who have about had it with humanity in quantity.

The colours of the rocks, their massiveness, the wear rubble at the bottoms of the escarpments are prodding at my theology. What can possibly be meant by "Always"? Buried under water for several gazillion years, now reared up and being worn away by wind and water to fall back into the ocean at some point - seedtime/harvest/seedtime/harvest/seed....

Music for this section of the journey: Garnet Rogers' Firefly (he'll be in BC in Oct) especially "Better Days" and "Redwing", Bach's Cello Concerti with Yo-Yo Ma, and Mozart's Clarinet concerti. This landscape seems to need instrumental music but I have the phenomenal Ruthie Foster and kd lang for just-in-case.

Tonight I'm staying here. Bath, nap, dinner, bed. A civilization break in the car-camping.

Still breathing and moving on with blessings for my journey.


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