Tuesday, November 8th, 2011
What if life is nothing more than our perception of events surrounding us? Yesterday, I felt like nothing interesting happened. Depending on your point of view, that is true. Looking back, I find that plenty of both unique and typical things happened, many of which I could have eked a page of writing out of (ending with a preposition! tragedy!). Easily. Well, that is in the past. Moving on to the present, today has been both boring and eventful at the same time. Nothing untoward has happened, but I was more perceptive of my environment, and particularly receptive to the natural beauty and comedy of life.
Leaving at 5 a.m. means driving in the dark. Wonderful way and time to get out of a city, before all the crazies come out and clog up the roadways. (by "crazies" I mean all the people out there who buy the stuff that gives me a job) I left Clackamas in no particular hurry, heading up to Yaikima to drop the trailer in a secure yard. Driving through the Columbia Gorge as the sun was rising turned out to be quite the treat.
Hooded figures of columnar basalt reached for the heavens, their lofty heads shrouded by a blanket of low laying mist. In the dim pre-dawn light, the silhouettes stood in stark contrast to the ever lightening sky. A ribbon of deep orange, fading to apricot painted the horizon under a dark dusky grey layer of low level cumulus clouds. Driving onto a causeway, bordered by the mighty Columbia on the left, and a man made lagoon on the right, a fiery band erupted on the surface of the still water, igniting both my heart and soul with joy. Progressing in its ever ponderous manner, the sky brightened, revealing and ever mounting level of detail in the surrounding landscape. A geologist’s dream, this place. Rolling hills, golden with last summer's fading grasses, catch the shadows of the early morning sun, placing stark emphasis on the almost feminine curves. Further along, rockfalls turn the landscape more masculine with their rough edges and sharper contrasts. The light begins to illuminate the lichens and mosses, dotting the landscapes with freckles of almost florescent green and yellows. A tug plies the river's still surface, belying the craggy rapids long since inundated by the erection of the hydroelectric dams. The barge drafts low in the water, loaded down with grain from this autumn’s harvest destined to places unknown to me.
Then I break at the truck stop. A lingering moment of inspiration, befuddled by the reality of needing to use the bathroom. Sometimes it goes like that; realities clash often in this particular line of work. Continuing north on US 97, I found my way into Goldendale, WA.
It was a foggy morning, visibility reduced to about a quarter mile. I slowed down for safety, dually emphasized by the guy driving south with no lights on. Passing the gas station on Simcoe road, the fog broke revealing a frosted landscape. The road opens up a bit at that point, and I continue on my merry way, but not before seeing a pedestrian on the side of the road. Accordingly, I slow down and move over a touch, then something about this guy draws my eye. He's standing aside the shoulder, with an army issue field jacket (the old solid green kind) back to the road. Glancing over a bit more, I see he is holding a soft sided briefcase, and supervising a dog doing its duty. I was left wondering, “what kind of guy takes his dog for a walk in the middle of nowhere (town was now about a mile away... and it is a small place) with a briefcase?” I considered using him as a writing exercise... a chance to make up some story about a random event in the day. Obviously, I did not go that route, but I may do so in the future when something else strikes me as singular and noteworthy.
For now, I will get some rest, and prepare to motor out in the morning.
I'd love to hear your story about the man with his briefcase. It's odd moments like that that make life interesting. Thanks for writing.
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