Day 19 is our first road trip.
I’m/We’re learning how all this works.
We drive to Highway 9 and north to Little Mountain Park. We don’t know where we’re going and I can’t focus on maps, we wander. We stop at the scenic overlooks, but there’s an old abandoned car I’m trying to find. I remember it from my first trip here and we scramble up and down a couple trails until finally it appears around a corner. (It’s on the Bonny & Clyde trail, southeast of the juncture with Fred’s trail, for future reference.)
We drive down through the valley, over the river, through the fields, and arrive at our home for the night. The Lady Florence, she’s called. We’d been confused by her stately appearance as we thought we were in for a night in a cabin, perhaps even a cottage. The homeowner, Betsey, welcomes us inside instead, and leads us to the “King’s Suite” on the second floor.
I wander the grounds with Aoife and take pictures of all that I can. There’s just a perfect amount of sun.
It’s all so beautiful and my ability to generate adjectives ends there. The photos on the wall tell the story I want to write for myself – fixing up a historic home, restoring souls and sharing the home with new ones.
The room is authentically furnished in a thrifted, salvaged, found style that is my life. (!!)
We talk, we laugh, we watch old films, we theorize, we play games, we kiss.
We go to breakfast at Cama Beach State Park. We plan our day and map the driving route on my old atlas (no google maps today, if possible, I hope). We go.
I haven’t forgotten Aoife (she thinks so) so we find a little park to stop and stretch our legs.
There’s a thrift shop in Silvana and we each find an old game with our new eyes – he, a gift for his brother, and me, a game to mimic the one I’m already playing.
I’m home and editing photos the day of – my bad habit of neglecting the editing process is broken today. My notebooks (physical, digital, and mental) are full and I stay up writing until 2 AM. It is cathartic and I am learning so much about me and this and everything.
Fortunately this intense writing spree has untangled many thoughts and my mind is quieter. It is easier for me to listen this way.
Thank you, Universe – these words seem tiny compared to what I mean. What’s the best method for me to express infinite gratitude for infinite riches with my entire infinite being? ❤