River

The other day I sat by the river. It was a cool day with the sun peeking in and out of the clouds. The water lazily going by with a few leaves and drift wood bobbing slowing in time to a song that was near the edge of perceptible. Bird song was also light on the wind, trying to cull me into a midday nap. On days like this I liked to take my shoes off and rest my feet in the water. I never knew why this was so calming, but it would just take any and all the stress I had built up recently and let it flow out of my body and get taken away by the moving water.

The river bank was well kept, with short grass from the waters edge all the way to the paved foot path behind me. Every now and again a runner or a biker would amble through my world and continue on to wherever they were headed. I never really understood running to run, or biking to bike. I was a big fan of running from things that needed to be run from, or biking to places that I needed to bike to; the key being need. But that was beyond me this day, this was all about reflection and solitude.

There’s something so amazing and brilliant about having some time to oneself in nature. I mean, you’re never truly alone, you always have yourself they say, but beyond that, there are thousands of life forms all around you, all the time. It’s easy to lose sight of that, but sitting by the river you can focus. Close your eyes, and listen. You will hear the birds chirping, you will hear the squirrels collecting food for the impending winter, you will hear the wind kissing the trees and grass around you.

Open your eyes and look, look to places you would normally discount as scenery. I could spend a lifetime looking at a single tree from every angle imaginable. The trunk, with it’s bark, the base where it takes root into the soil, climbing up into the bows to see the intricacies of the branches interplaying with each other and every individual leaf. There’s even a wealth of life living on the tree, the squirrels, the birds, the badgers, the bees, the spiders, the caterpillars, so many life forms all in one space, and usually we just see a brown stick with green foliage on top.

I always found it good to make time to be here, at least once a month, I think I should do it more often. When the seasons change this simple space transforms into a new world each time. In autumn you get the crunching of leaves and animals preparing for hibernation. In winter, everything in a frozen state, a time to really examine life unmoving. And in spring, when life is renewed from the cold, waking creatures and new life infused into aged things.

-V-

Inconvenient Resort (Part 1)

We were there for a peanut butter convention or whatever it is people go to convention places for; I have no idea anymore. I was there to accompany my lovely companion on some adventure she had concocted as a fun getaway. All seemed well, until we arrived at the hotel. It was a unique formation of a lodging that sat on the side of a hill nestled between the mountains. It was a long time forgotten mining site. I think they used to get coal from the top of the mountains and bring it down this hill. They had converted old mining cars that went up to the top of the hill into hotel rooms. Every room sat stationary on the old tracks at a five percent incline. At the base of the hill the hotel’s main body stood with tennis courts, pool, and a workout facility. It was connected to the quaint convention center, which reached out further and touched the forest. The forest was filled almost entirely with evergreens; it must have looked impressive year round. Luckily, it was late spring and the skies were clear; the temperature was just perfect and the pine aroma filtered around the place beautifully.

My lady and I were the first to arrive to the hotel room. It had a sickly mothball and honeysuckle smell permeating every corner of the main room. We entered from the top of the car and took stock of our surroundings. Down the right side there was a bedroom, followed by a bathroom, and then another bedroom. Along the left wall one could find two more bedrooms. Each door leading from the main room was intricate and different. It gave an air of mystery as to what could be behind each door. The width of the main room couldn’t have been more than ten feet across, but was incredibly deep. At the far end sat the kitchen area, which was adjusted so that it was level and nothing would fall off the counters. I’m not much of one to be too close to the main door, so we chose the room on the far right, just past the bathroom that was closest to the kitchen.

We pulled our belongings into the room and felt the immediate horror. It was a room done entirely in leopard prints and other African motifs, but not authentic in any way (more like how a tourist would believe a room like this should look). There were plastic masks screwed into the wall, spray-painted with reds and blacks to make them look older and more authentic. In the center of the room sat a four-poster bed with a horribly fake looking white tiger pelt. There was mosquito netting draped over the frame; overall it just looked cheap. We unpacked and went back into the main room to drudge up some cups of coffee.

The coffee was percolating nicely. The java smell was starting to overcome the odd natural odor of the room. Then she walked in the main door, my ex, looking crestfallen and harried. My current sweetheart had no idea who this girl was and I was not about to enlighten her. My ex and I hadn’t ended on the best of terms but we were willing to let bygones be gone. Essentially, the current relationship with my ex was a masterful dance of avoidance and pretending the other did not exist. Of course, there were times where it was too obvious to people around us, in which case we would pass simple cursory greetings through gritted teeth or an empty compliment with a crocodile smiles.

-V-