Sitting behind the desk at the Lodge this week, whilst Princess Chrissy, of said Lodge, is baring her skin to the sun in the Keys, I’ve had the world come to visit me. Being a confirmed adventure bunny appears to insight God to bring gifts to my door. The gifts have been diverse (of course, He knows I’ve a pathetically short attention span….actually…hmm, lets repackage that. I AM ETERNALLY CURIOUS. That’s better. Splendid improvement), yes, so they were diverse..the gifts. And human. A couple in their twenties; her with a spiral of ‘fresh from the shower’ damp, honey coloured hair and him an easy face…you know.. when someone is just so chilled they have same effect on you as watching slow-moving fish in a pond. Their home is a boat on the coast near San Diego. Their tale of meeting had me all hearts and flutters. A mutual friend had played cupid and orchestrated their meeting, despite them living over 450 miles apart. The mutual friend (MF) had declared upon hearing his description of the woman he dreamed of, and then, not long after (MF) meeting the girl who fitted the description like a slipper made of glass, (MF) declared most positively to her male compadre….’I’ve found your wife’. Charmin (the girl) had a wedding to attend in SF and ceased the opportunity to get to meet his guy that mutual friend (MF) had raved about and invited Jeff along. Love sprouted instantly…like it was dining on Miracle Gro. Now, they live a crazy good life, day by day, in an eclectic community of fellow adventurers and sturdy boat people. To be honest, it needed no storytelling…it radiated from them brighter than a bright thing!
A raven haired (I know it is a lame, oft used, description but I spent three long minutes trying to think of another and I couldn’t. I gave up, I figured it would do), exotic woman, with the look of ‘Hollywood’ about her, revealed, just as she came to deliver back her room key, she was writing a memoir/novel about the contentment at being solo, living free. There was ‘something’ about her, I have a feeling I’ll be picking up the hardback at a store one day.
A lean, dusty hiker appeared in the office early one morning, whilst I was watching the yellow birds peck at the black seeds in the feeder. He was not long from the beginning of the Pacific Coast Trail, 2560 miles from Mexico to Canada, an annual event where a cast of thousands don their backpacks to trudge the miles with their pared down possessions and live in the elements. Probably for a thousand different reasons. Probably life changing. Definitely challenging. This guy seemed wound up so tight his breath was fighting to fulfill its obligations. We chatted for ages and I thought it charming how he was sharing a thousand thoughts milling in his head, ideas, plans…they ran on from each other like a freed up Slinky. ‘Just enjoy’, I encouraged him….’let the stuff come to you’. I watched as he resumed his journey and walked up the long road to the cross-street, his backpack the size of a small Chinaman. Another hiker, who happened through, was going to be dipping in and out, tasting parts of the trail. He’d recently had his life perform a circus act and he’d experienced an epic ‘aha’ moment. An untimely stroke jolted him sideways and he’d taken up a new life. He currently lived in a 50,000 strong, retirement community in Utah, played pickle ball, discovered new trails to hike every week and was bouncing with enthusiasm for life. Hmm, can it be good to have such a concentration of people over a certain age? What about diversity? I wonder at the net effect.
Princess Chrissy returns in a day or so….probably bronzed, hopefully enthusing happy holiday stories. Me? I’ll just keep on letting life ‘happen’. This morning, I got to witness the creation of a new, real-life Princess..my body waking me (without my prior consent!) at 2am to watch the Wedding of William and Kate. Wasn’t it splendid?! I loved the kisses-a-deux…and the convertible Aston Martin, complete with trailing, rattling cans. I loved all the rows of horses and red uniformed officers lining the streets and the trumpeted fanfare. The angelic choir boys. The ceremony. The readings. Even the pre-dawn measure of eye candy courtesy of Mr Beckham. God..isn’t he just…like, heart-stoppingly….ehh, my thoughts slip down to ‘basement car park’ level! Press upper floors!
All these happenings…life so glorious. Glorious be, as I weave myself among the statuesque pines. I seem to live life in the canopy, enjoying the view..not climbing down to feel the splinters that punctured my skin when I walked at the shrub layer, or see the blisters of others. The scars. Up here, in the unhindered breeze, it feels like the right choice. For me. All I can handle.
I soon leave the mountain and its inhabitants who have been such a treat. My brain cannot comprehend life without the waving hands, the hugs, the stories and the gorgeous faces that own them. What it can comprehend though is air free of pine pollen, increased levels of oxygen in my blood, a bed of my own, my shiny purple bike, zippy little car, my sunny kitchen, and the friends and family. The familiar, I flew from, what seems like a life-time ago.
I stretch, yawn and sense my empty belly. Probably an idea to emerge from my inner musings and go and experience the happenings that remain in my glass. It ain’t over yet.