As I sit here, typing while looking out the window above my computer, watching the rain fall, rain we've so badly needed, I think about how I haven't blogged for some time. A tiny part of me feels guilty for not being more regular, but then a larger part of me thinks who the hell cares what I have to say anyway? And that duality is what's been my life for awhile now. Ever since last summer when I arrived home after spending 60 glorious days on my bike, learning how easily I can live with so little. Last summer is still with me in a very big way, so much so that every single day, as I'm sitting in my office, grading student work, or standing in front of the classroom, talking about the day's lesson, last summer's images, smells, sounds, and feelings creep in, interrupt. Not a day goes by that I don't think about last summer.
Even now, while I should be responding to the student paper I have pulled up on my computer, my thoughts instead turned to the day we climbed Monarch Pass in Colorado. It rained that day, giving the day's ride a very different flavor from what we'd dealt with while cycling through Kansas. Kansas was hot. The water in our water bottles was like that for hot tea. Drinking it was unpleasant but definitely needed to stave off dehydration. Cycling Monarch Pass was cool. Wet. A pleasant wet that gave a shiny gloss to the ferns growing from the rocky shoulder. I remember not rushing that climb, but rather just taking it easy to enjoy the rain, the Aspens, the purple flowers that looked like teardrops. When I was just yards away from the entrance to the campground where we were camping that night, a man in a truck pulled up alongside me, yelling, "Ma'am, there's a wide load coming up behind you. You need to get out of the way!" On my right was a rock wall. I could have stopped and squished myself against it. Instead, I checked for oncoming traffic, and seeing none, I high-tailed it to the left, across the left two lanes to reach the shoulder provided there. Just seconds after reaching the shoulder, the wide load lumbered past. Later, when we all had our tents set up and were changed into warmer, dry clothes, we gathered under the canopy tents at the RV to eat a pasta dinner and drink beer. I want to be back there now. I don't want to be here.
Because of my current love/hate relationship with blogging (and several other aspects of my life), I've decided to take a blog-battical. I'm sure I'll return sooner or later. For now, I wish you all good health, happiness, and peace.