Tuesday, February 14th, 2012
Nothing like a fire drill to keep you sharp. Truth be told, every one in the driver's lounge in Sumner just kinda looked around, confused at first. People watching TV looked around, waiting for someone to care enough to leave. Sure, There may have been an emergency somewhere, maybe the building was about to blow up, no one knew. We sat around a bit more, enjoying the shrill noise only a fire alarm can make. Eventually, someone got up. Then another person. Then We all kinda decided that, yeah, maybe we should go outside or something. Nobody saw any flames, so it couldn't be a real big deal yet. Some moseyed, others ambled, one may have waddled out the door, only to be found shortly huddled together in a large group by an open shop bay door. Apparently, some driver was doing a DPF regen in the shop. This produces extremely high temperatures, and as you may have anticipated, set off the sprinkler system and thus, the alarm. That was the evening thus far.
While there are many such odd events that make up our days as we dance through this waltz we call life, it may become all to easy to lose ourselves in the hectic pace of this modern world, bombarded as we are by so many external stimuli. Throw in the never ending internal monologs from the restless mind produced by the media of this world, and it is a recipe for confusion. From hence forth, I will do my best to describe a single moment, with as much detail and emotion as I can muster. We can have so many profound moments each day, if we chose to see things as such. That said, I will do my best to keep this from becoming a boring log of events, as yesterday seems to me, but I will also make it a point to include odd and humorous events like the fire alarm story above, because hey, who couldn't use a laugh?
It had been a couple of miles already. Chugging up that hill with a heavy load. I knew that it could be heavier, and was thankful that it wasn't. Still, moving at half speed was taking its toll on my patience. Although that has gotten better of late. Eastern Oregon is filled with grand undulations of rock, sprinkled with the dusky green of juniper bushes. The sage is a dull light brown this time of year, waiting for the rains and warmth of spring. Bunch grasses are a desiccated but vivid dry yellow, standing alert, for fear of fire.
At the crest of the hill, sunlight washes into the cab of the truck, breaking free from the persistent clouds. At long last, I can see a horizon in the distance. The hillside drops down along sinewy curves to a sparkling band of silver below. The Snake River. The water is occluded by a number of rocky spurs, decorated much like the rest of the hills. Far in the distance, the hills along the north side of the river valley glow in the sun. Further still, a ceiling of thin, dark grey clouds hangs low over the hill tops. Along the ridge, 5 wind turbines turn, radiant white in the sunlight. From here, they look all of 3 inches tall, rather than the 300 feet they actually reach. Against the backdrop of the foreboding sky, the turbines stand out, a beacon of power and hope.
My road does not go there. I flow downhill along the river side. It crosses my mind that we climb our hills to get a better perspective. Seems like some kind of metaphor to me. My mind cuts to a scene from Bladerunner. “I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. ..... All those moments, lost. In time. Like tears, in the rain.” I shed my own tears only to have the moment lost.
Here is a video link with that very line:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pw6D_QfsmUY
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