Relish12 Prompt for December 12, 2012
Carve some time out for yourself this week.
Today, I was a Relish12 overachiever. I carved out some space within a half hour of receiving this prompt. I said, “That’s it! I’m outta here!”
My home office felt stagnant. My dogs were barking, there was a certain shade of stuffyness in the air and I needed out, out, out.
I decided I would go on a short hike in the Kern Canyon to collect goodies for a future assemblage since I loved my Morro Bayassemblage so much. I was driving to the canyon when I got a poke to do something slightly different, “Drive over the bridge. Take this road you have never taken.”
I did.
The ambling country road is named Rancheria Road and is right on the edge of new housing communities which I pray don’t overtake it. There is such a silent, quiet feeling out there on this road-I-had-never-taken before. I found myself smiling for no reason at all except the silence was absolutely astounding. I didn’t have to worry about anyone else’s agenda or any appointments or where I was expected to be next.
I realize I need to schedule plentiful uninterrupted even by cell phone reception time, especially as I continue to heal from melanoma. I may have to have another surgery in January. If I do, I am going to make more quiet time. I may recuperate outside ofBakersfield this time if a surgery is necessary. I won’t expect myself to bounce right back. I can rent a little cabin or something and pretend I am Thoreau’s sister.
A butterfly flew by and tousled my hair. I flock of tiny grey birds flew in formation. They looked like krill of the sky sea. Cows stood and watched me, apathetically, as they grazed. Maybe they just have poker faces.
About six miles up the road the pavement disappears. I thought of turning around as I went up and over hills and decided only the unadventuresome among us would do such a thing. I kept going. I kept my eyes on the scenery and along the sides of the road to pick up assemblage treasures.
Yes, there were many but probably not what you might think. There was a chew can, perfect for the area. I found one lense from a pair of sunglasses. I found smooshed cans of Bud Light but I only took one. I found a rec vehicle magazine, you know for those dangerous three or four wheel contraptions that have been known to kill drivers who aren’t experienced enough? One of my friend’s kids died this way.
Anyway, I thought that was (sadly) perfect. A man drove by me much faster than I would have liked and gave me the peace sign which I gave back.
It took me quite a few turns in the road before I found a Marlboro box. I found a chip bag, newly discarded out someone’s window. It has bi-lingual labeling. I thought the color would make a nice addition. A juice bag, bottle tops, and then a delightful rural Kern County discovery: Remington shell casings: perfect, and right after the thought, “Why haven’t I found any shell casings, I wonder?” Then I saw what looked like a small tube of toothpaste. Ta-da! Just looked different than what I have seen in town.
I found some really thick glass right along a place where those rec vehicles have climbed up a very steep embankment. I am going to let my friend figure that one out, but I love the sparklyness it will add to my assemblage.
On the way back down the hill, I went to the Rec Area for Rancheria Road to a part of it I had never visited. It was a great spot to just sit in gratitude to divinity for showing me the way back to me.
Write about what creating that space meant for you. What emotions bubbled up? Where did your thoughts drift? Could you commit do doing this for you more often?
This is one of those experiences that is so valuable for me in that it wakes me up, it reminds me of what I love: discovery, surprises, winding roads, journeys without destinations. I felt quietly blissed out, a continually smile. No concerns except for finding more cool-to-me stuff for another nature-meets-man art project.
It was only a couple hours from start to finish AND I know it will nourish me for days 
to come. I was snapping photos thinking, “I will always remember this.” I listened to silence and thought of how I could hear so much when it was quiet.
I need to add this to my schedule at least once a fortnight and then stick to it.
I’m grateful you are reading here today!
