Picking Up Hitch-hikers

I had passed up a hitch hiker over the summer and felt ashamed ever since; here was my redemption.

He had a full beard, blue eyes, and a kind smile.

"Hey there! You can toss your pack in the back seat. Hop in!"

"Hey! Thanks! I'm Dan."

"I'm Kat."

The only reason I had been driving on the 101 North was because the 5 was jam-packed smog and tires and break-lights. At least the 101 had an ocean view.

Dan was from Pennsylvania, educated in New Jersey, and had hitched his way across the country. He had just started his most recent journey from Ocean Beach, from a friend's house. He was headed to San Francisco to visit other friends. Like many people I know, he had just finished college with a degree in Business. After college he had travelled to Australia to "find himself," but only managed to find that he liked to travel.

"Too many people feel tied down to their jobs and their homes. It's so cool that you are just out there, traveling," I said.

"I know. That is one of the most frequent things I've heard from people who pick me up; they wish that they could do what I am doing. I tell them that they can--it's just a matter of priorities."

It is encouraging to meet people like Dan. I am reminded that there are still very good people in this world who have not bought into the contrived social norms of the day. I am encouraged because Dan reminded me that I am not alone.

Heroes

Sometimes our heroes are people we've never met before. They come to a bouldering competition that you are working at and they limp up to you with a cane. You look down to see one ankle wrapped and the other foot adorned with a climbing shoe. He is smiling.

Sometimes heroes don't even know that they are heroes. The obstacles they are overcoming may be insignificant, or they might be mountainous. Whatever it may be, that person, and what and how they are fighting resonates with your soul.

Sometimes a downtrodden warrior will rise above the obstacle in his way; he might hobble up to the wall, take a deep breath, concentrate, jump, and then stick a dyno in front of a roaring crowd. He lands gracefully on his one good leg. He smiles; and I smile with him.

Rain in October

3:38am. It starts to rain; I always wake when it starts to rain in the night. My window is ever open so that I never miss such miracles.

Smiling, I think about how the wind changed today and how a small wisp of cloud told me to expect this weather. A young girl in my Oak cabin had run up to me today and said, "Mr. Jeff said that we might get some dry lightning tomorrow!" I had smiled and replied that Mr. Jeff (my internship supervisor) knew how to read the weather well; I had also noted the clouds and their meaning.

The rain continues. I close my eyes again and picture the girls in their cabin being lulled to sleep by the water. One girl turns on her flashlight: it's bright! *CRRRRBBOOOOOM* I can hear the thunder as it echoes from one end of this valley to the other.

Jeff was right about the lightning.

Adrenaline rushes in, opening my eyes in anticipation for the next flash. When it comes, it comes from behind my room (which faces West). The storm will be quick tonight.

It's 4:10am. Tomorrow the earth will smell sweet, the bird will sing with appreciation, and I will tell that girl, "See? Jeff was right... except for the 'dry' part!"

Coming back Autumn

Hot tea in my center.

Frigid air surrounds me like my thoughts;

Also cold. And changing.

Don't be silly. I'm happy with who I am.

My body could use a tune-up; without a doubt.

But I never doubted myself for a millisecond.

There are, however, long spells of wondering,

which make me wonder further.

How am I to live as I am meant to live?

Where is home, anyway?

Why is my jalepeño plant wilting?

Does he even bother to read these free insights into my thoughts?

Who cares? No--really--who cares?

Slow down.

I said that to myself as I drove up to Cuyamaca.

You never know what is around the corner.

I said that to myself just now;

I'm sitting here, at my desk, yet I'm still

moving forward.

The one time I don't have my camera

I lead my first group today and taught the SAMSPAW concept: there are seven natural resources on Earth; sun, air, minerals, soil, plants, animals, and water. The kids basically already knew this (but not all groups do).

We walked about in the mist and talked about how it feels to walk in a cloud.

Jeff, my supervisor, came along with me and made sure I didn't lose or mislead any children. He also helped me find my way around trails with which I am not yet familiar. On our way back to Camp I saw him step over a bright little flash of red, black, and yellow.

"A mountain king snake!"

Jeff turned and helped me keep the kids back as I caught the cutest, tiniest California mountain king snake I'd ever seen.

Thank you, Dad, for teaching me: "Red on yellow can kill a fellow. Red on black, you're okay, Jack!"

The kids got a treat in seeing such a rare (and adorable) specimen, and I got a treat by being able to see it, catch it, and talk to the kids about how awesome it is!

Stormy weather

It began raining at 4:22am. I woke to hear the raindrops hitting the upturned oak leaves, the dusty pine needles, and the metal table just outside my window. Tink tink tink tink.

This would be perfect if it weren't for that darn table...

So I stand up on my bed and look out my window to see if I could move the table in the morning.

CRACK! gggzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt!

Lightning struck very, very near. Near enough where I could hear something buzzing and humming in response.

I love storms. I told my boss today that I was sorry for being so flighty; I am storm-deprived. Our All Day Adventures were scheduled for today and we decided to break up that "all day" into two parts. For the first part we hiked the kids out to Rock Canyon, where bedrock forms a series of pools. With the help of the rain, these summer-time-dried-up pools were slightly filled. We saw a cute little toad that was only as big at my thumb, the same thistle-down velvet ant, and a few hawks. The kids were a bit noisy, but they were pretty cool this week. One of them attached himself to my walking staff and would do anything to carry it. Pretty darned cute.

The storm came in waves, showering us in light rain, then a downpour while it was sunny, and the occasional thunder and lightning show. It was marvelous. I haven't been so giddy in a long while. I mean, hiking in the rain while it is sunny with thunder overhead: what more could I ask for, really?

Mornings with Mom

Woke up early to meet Mom in Julian. I am fighting off a sore throat. Needed cough drops and EmergenC.

Mornings are made of peace here.

I drive down the road snapping shots out my open window. It smells like it wants to rain.

Mom has an entire care package for me; I'm 24 and I still could not survive without my mom. This makes me smile because I am trying to get back in touch with my childhood.

It's working.

Apple boysenberry crumb crust pie. Apple cider. It's for the other interns and other friends at Camp. I see my boss in town, then again at work. We joke about me "shadowing too closely."

I help the kids with rock craft today. Take a ragged stone, turn it into a gem: this is not an easy task for impatient children. But they manage. They succeed. They smile.

My staff has become something of a sacred thing to carry. I normally let the quietest, the nicest, and the shiest kid carry it as we hike. The red tailed hawk feathers twirl on the wind at the end of the staff. It seems to enable children to fly.