We are well and enjoying the delights of autumn, which means that the temperatures in this corner of Arizona are staying below ninety degrees.
We are heading into the fast track on the actual packing/weeding out/lightening the load phase of the move. I find myself pulling stuff out of its place, going through it (spreading it around) and then leaving it to start the same thing in another spot. Not exactly a streamlined method of dealing with stuff. But, some things are finding their way out the front door, never to return again. Others are finding their way into boxes, organized, labeled and ready to go. That is a good thing.
Since actual travel must be put on hold, cyber travel has become a means of survival. A favorite audio jaunt has been to http://radioprimetime.org/specials/silence, where Gordon Hempton’s audio ecology efforts are showcased. Sounds from the Hoh National Forest, pristine and unadulterated, bring us as close to creation as we may ever be.
Soon a young friend will enter the land of loomdom. I rub my hands in glee.
It took seventeen years of attitudinal discipline for my green coastal mindset to accept the desert. Since then the wide skies, subtle colors, and unmatched sunsets have grown a place in my heart. It has been thirty years since unflinching sunlight began to bleach out the surroundings of my daily life. In sixty days I’ll be leaving this awesome spreadout land for a place with: seasons, green grass, trees, creeks, and–most amazing of all–rain more than three times a year. Yes, I’m smiling. Yes, I know there will be things to miss.
Things that happened today:
- Prompted to turn on the broken dishwasher, I first checked the water line valves, made sure there was no impingement, and turned it on. It worked! Sometimes machines need vacations, too .
- This time of year the weather is too beautiful to shut the outside out, so the front door stays open. As I was crossing the living room a brown winged creature swooped past and lighted on the ceiling. Our visitor spent the day there, perhaps disturbed by the construction across the street, and rested until dusk. I then turned the indoor lights off, covered the computer screen with a towel and sat outside on the porch, waiting. Very shortly, our silent creature swept out into the night to hunt out his dinner. Our visit from the bat was over.