On the hike at Larrabee State Park, I came across this Benchmark. I have a long-standing fascination with benchmarks, having used them many times to establish vertical control for my projects. To find one by happenstance on the beach was just fun.
One morning in late January, the Girl and I were headed for town to get some work done at Wood’s Coffee. The sun was out that morning and the light was beautiful. So we stopped at an overlook to make this capture and marvel at the color and vista.
On this morning, it was cold, foggy, and rainy. The dogs and I hiked up to the Big Lake overlook to this scene. We (or I) paused a few minutes to take it in and make a capture.
My first time out to Woods Coffee, in Mount Washington, I noticed this view through the window. I loved the juxtaposition of the window frame, the incandescent lamps, and the “Open” neon sign.
On our first hike up the hill to the Big Lake overlook, the Girl and I discovered this derelict vehicle on the trail. My guess is that someone had a really bad night. Or, they no longer wanted the vehicle and elected to abandon it on the trail… with the tags intact.
Do I understand this? Nope. I guess I don’t need to.
There was much snow at Deadman’s Pass, Washington. The Girl and I stopped here, briefly, to get out of the 4Runner, play in the snow, get some exercise, and take a break from the highway. It was good.
For some reason, the pair of sculptures I saw at the Denver Art Center seem appropriate for this rumination. They remind me of Wife and me.
Three years ago, Wife died. What more can be said about such a watershed event? What can I do to honor her memory than to remember her most days and then set aside a few minutes on her big days to reflect on her life and our shared lives?
I’ll tell you what I can do — I can live. I’m not going to be that other man in the grief group (I went a couple of times and then quit) who was stuck in his loss. He could not get traction to process his grief, to live it, to let it permeate his soul with the shearing pain of that loss, and then to release that energy as his wife would want.
I watched him. I felt his pain, not just my own. I shielded myself from his pain as it was too much to take on the pain of another man’s loss when so close to my own. I thought “He needs help he cannot get here,” as I walked away from that first group session. I thought “He has to get his feet under him, do the work, process his grief, and honor his wife’s memory if he’s going to move forward.”
Then I reflected on my own internal journey, my own internal work. I was much farther down the path of my grief than the other man. No, it was not a race and there is no winner; there is no better man when dealing with this life-changing event. There is just the grief and the work. There is a necessity to do this work or that pain will kill the spirit.
I returned once more to see if the grief group held anything for me. I learned that I was already far down the process of my grief and decided that spending time with my few friends (those that hung with me) would be far better for me than spending witm with the other grievers. So, that’s what I did.
My gut told me to run away… to just get on the bike or in the 4Runner and go walkabout for a while. My aching spirit wanted the outdoors, the open road, and time away from shared places to process what happened. I wanted to be the Ghost Rider (see Neil Peart’s book) and let the clean air and open road purge some of the pain from me.
But, I didn’t. I did the responsible thing and kept after my obligations. I continued my inner work and did what I could for my employer.
That all changed last March. I was released from my engagement. So, I sold the house, rid myself of a bunch of things (still have too much), put the remaining things in storage, and left. One thing I learned is that my gut was right — I should spend time outdoors and on the road. These are healing places for me and I made up for my original decision these last few months by spending time with loved ones here and there across the country.
And, this is how I honor Wife. I spend time with loved ones and on the road.
I sense, though, that this time is ending. My walkabout is coming to a close, or at the very least is going to change. What that will be is not yet clear. It will be, though, when the time is right. My direction is to remain in the moment, for that is all we ever have. I will remember Wife on all our special days, and most others. I’ll review the images of us together, doing things that we enjoyed, our family pictures, and just remembering. I will continue to honor Wife this way. It feels right. It also feels right to leave the pain behind (mostly) and celebrate the happy times we loved.
I dream of her often. I remember her often. I miss her all the time.
I landed in Layton, Utah this afternoon. After fighting rain, snow, and highway spray for an hour and change, I gave up. I suspected a band of snow northwest from Salt Lake City and didn’t think it wise to drive into that. It is likely I would have decided to bag it and then have to hunt for a place to bunker in for the night. It just didn’t feel right.
So, Layton, Utah won the toss. I found a La Quinta, which doesn’t hassle me about my dog (wouldn’t anyway because she’s my service dog, but it’s just easier). I checked in early, took care of staging our things, and then the Girl and I crashed for an hour. I guess I was quite tired after fighting the highway.
I didn’t post while staying in Denver because bandwidth sucked dirt. I had “high speed internet” through an xfinity WiFi subscription. But it was definitely not “high speed.” I could do email alright and some light web surfing. But any work that required some bandwidth (like posting pictures on my weblog) just was not going to happen.
It’s too bad, because I have some decent images made there in Denver while I visited the kids. I’ll probably post a few of them over the next few days as I rejoin the world of the wired.
I departed Denver yesterday morning after being there about a week. It felt like it was time to move on a bit. I need some highway under me and some solitude.
The trip out of Denver got nasty as we approached the Eisenhower Tunnel. There was more snow than I expected and more traffic as well. The combination made for some slow going as we crawled over the hill. The mess didn’t dissipate until someplace west of Vail/Aspen. But the roads dried and some sun shone and that made the afternoon much better.
We paused at Silt, Colorado, next to the Colorado River for a pee stop and time to get out of the 4Runner. It was nice to get out for a bit and the windows needed cleaning badly.
But, I was tired and called it early at Grand Junction. But first, we walked a couple of miles. It was good to be away from the city and the requirement of an on-lead walk. The Girl reveled in her freedom, running from bush to bush, sniffing, peeing, pooping… doing doggie things. Between her enthusiasm and the sun, joy came to my heart. It was quiet, I was outdoors, and we were back in our beloved environment, walking.
I got a room, got us settled in, found a bottle of red wine, and a bite of supper. It was good to be settled in for the night. I spent some time reading, writing, and listening to music. We fell asleep snuggling on the bed. I love her warm and she loves to snuggle. It was a good thing.
I woke fairly early this morning, but not buttcrack-of-dawn early. I made some coffee, sat down with my journal and Bible, then read and wrote a bit while I woke. We headed out at a decent hour, got a bite of breakfast, refueled the 4Runner, and really cleaned the windows.
We passed a lot of familiar territory west from Grand Junction to Green River, Utah. it’s a route I’ve driven dozens of times, but it still never fails to impress me with the vistas.
We headed northerly on U.S. 6/191 to catch I-15 and head into Salt Lake City. This was mostly a new route for me. I drove part of it last summer on my way back from Denver, but not the southern portion of this leg.
We hit rain and then snow when we got to Salt Lake City. The spray was so bad that visibility was severely impacted. After fighting with it for an hour or more, I gave up. It just wasn’t worth the risk and I was tiring rapidly from the strain. So, we stopped. We’ll pick up the trip in the morning.
It’s good to have bandwidth again. I missed writing and posting images.
In my goal of making one decent image (I can’t say good or I’ll paralyze myself) each day for my Project 365 goal, I will have days when I either come up short or just don’t make a capture. With a smartphone this should not be the case, but I still have days when I’m distracted by so many other things I just don’t think about it.
So, I’ll miss a few days because I either didn’t stop whatever I was doing to find something worth photographing and making the capture or I come up with nothing I’m willing to post.
Yesterday was one of those days, I think. I was busy most of the morning working on my report. When I finished that, I made a little lunch. I really wanted to be outdoors, walking or moving around, but the weather was just not very cooperative. It was cool and rainy most of the day. Yes, I know, whining… excuses… unacceptable.
But, the Girl came through for me in the evening. She was snoozy and cuddly. When I stepped to the bed to spend some time with her, she yawned and began a light pant. It’s the pant she does when she’s a little warm, but not really too hot. I love that look, so I grabbed my camera and made a couple of shots. I got one decent capture that presents some of her endearing personality.
Years go, when I worked in Lubbock, Bigham’s BBQ was a favorite place to go get lunch. Sometimes Wife would come up and meet me there. Sometimes I went with colleagues. Sometimes I just went by myself. The smoked turkey is very good. The brisket is not bad either. On Wednesdays, they served smokey burgers, which were hamburgers they cooked in the smoker. They needed sauce because they tended to be a little dry (smoking will do that). But goodness what flavor they had.
I managed to get there once for lunch and I’m glad I did. It’s still one of my favorite places.