In the middle of somewhere

 Adventure day!  Shower, breakfast, tea, full packing, ready!  I drive an hour, listening to Johnny Cash, on new country roads on a newer, faster path to the heart of the mountains.  The parking lot is full, so I find one close by and walk just under a mile to reach the starting line.  On the way, I notice I am wearing normal shoes, which could withstand a hike, but my boots are still at home by the front door, even though I usually keep them in my car for just this reason.

Ah well, no worries!  The day is still incredibly beautiful, and while I can't see any smiling faces anywhere in society because of considerate mask wearing, the great outdoors are another story, and there are plenty of smiles from people returning.  

After a while, I see a couple passing me, and the woman's face looks so familiar.  She and I do a double-take, and we both turn around and she says, "Wait, I know who you are!"

And so I reply, "You were my student in New York City a few years ago!" I recall that she is Mexican, and guess, using memory, that her husband was Danish, but he was next door, Dutch, and doesn't seem impressed that I was close, because few nationalities like to be mistaken for their neighbors.  They have just camped and hiked Mt. Marcy, the highest peak in the Adirondacks, in the rain.  That brings back memories of hiking the same peak in August, ten years before.  I'd come back from traveling much higher mountains around the world, but these mountains have a special character, and they are ever so green.

After a very quick chat I continue up the mountain, and notice a stream.  As I decide to walk on some rocks to get a photo from the middle, something I've done countless times, a voice in my head gives me the reminder I'm not wearing my usual shorts and these pockets are more slippery and I really should put my phone--bang!  Uh-oh.  I furiously paw through the water, just one step into my excursion.  I think it has been swept away forever.  I step right in and get my shoes and socks wet, and keep reaching under these rocks worried it has fallen in through this narrow hole, but it turns out it is right in front of me, wedged in between two rocks.  It appears to still flash the normal display when it's touched, but I power it down, clean it with some tissues, put it in a sealed bag with whatever granola I have, take a look at my wet shoes and socks, figure the peak has been around for two billions years and will be there again, and walk back, an hour into my hike.  Next time, I bring my nicer camera that's on its last legs and eats up batteries, because if that falls in a stream, I will still be able to communicate with the outside world and teach my class.  Beautiful day for a walk in the forest though, and a picturesque drive in the country, along rivers, fields, farmhouses, small villages nestled among the hills, with Johnny Cash and The Allman Brothers to guide me.

Afterward, I put my phone in a bag of brown rice, and I must thank the rice for making this post possible.  On the other hand, the phone appears to have ceased certain functions, none of which are essential, but I am still loading all my photos and videos onto other hard drives now, which I should have done a while ago anyway.  I've just watched a very old episode of Northern Exposure where Maurice and Holling go on a journey into the wilderness, but things keep hampering progress, and once the cargo falls into the water, they head back.

Today, after reading Sinclair Lewis a couple hours, I found my phone was still alive, transferred files, visited the store, and got a new growler from a local brewery I hadn't gone to yet this year, because after refraining from either drinking most days or having multiple drinks a few others, this is Saturday night, and I've got the music and the right.

Thursday I was very lucky to sit in front of a campfire under the stars in a field for the first time this summer.  I read many excerpts from writings about various religions and philosophies, and then sat in quiet contemplation of the stars and flames.  Suddenly, the neighbor's dog on the opposite hill began howling, and soon, in the neighboring field, a pack of coyotes started yipping and screaming as only they can do.  As I was truly enjoying a spiritual mood, I tilted my head up to the stars and let loose a long, loud, "AAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUWWWWWW!"

Balloon just floating on the lake waves

Today is a storm.  With the exception of the occasional downpour or couple hour thunderstorm, things have been pretty dry around here.  It was a welcome relief to finally have a total rainy day.  I was still able to walk in the forest with an umbrella for half an hour, I stood near the enormous waves in front of the foggy lake as the wind howled, and I got to read, lounging on the couch without feeling guilty about not being out in the sunshine or under the stars or moon.

In New York City, I also relished rainy days here and there, but they seemed more frequent, and I just had a small room with a decent open view of the street area below and the sky.  You felt protected from the storm, but being in such an urban environment, you always feel kind of removed from the elements.  Here, with the metal roof, every acorn that falls and every droplet of rain water announces its arrival with a loud bang, one of the many sounds of connection between human and the outside world.

Then again, with more territory under one's domain, there comes more responsibility.  I was listening to Bob Marley's record "Survival," and the song "So Much Trouble in the World," and then I stepped in a puddle.  For the past couple hours, whenever I've been thinking "Now I will relax," I step in a new puddle.  The roof mostly does the job, but when faced with certain onslaughts of precipitation, leaks will appear here and there, and not always in the same places.  I've got four new leaks and six bowls/buckets/coolers going right now.  Ironically, one of the leaks was right above many empty water jugs and a cooler, but was far away and I didn't hear it until recently.  I also found three beers I'd forgotten about, so that was welcome.

Sometimes you need to repair the leaks, other times you can just put out a few buckets, monitor the situation for new events, and wait for the storm to pass

There was this magnificent lightning storm, with incredibly heavy rains, and wind howled as it is wont to do, and I turned all the lights off and watched the lightning over the lake and heard the wind in the trees and the water in the sky pounding on the metal roof, while stretched out on a couch somewhere in the mystery of infinity, smiling about how awesome life can be

August

 A swim with the moon