Wanderlust ~a strong desire or impulse to wander, travel, explore the world…

“Not all those who wander are lost.” 
J.R.R. TolkienThe Fellowship of the Ring

I am equally envious and excited when I hear people taking off on adventures I have also yearned for.  Example -for years I’ve longed to hike the Appalachian Trail.  The AT runs from Springer Mountain, Georgia to Mount Katahdin, Maine; is roughly 2,200 miles long and passes through 14 states.

I have watched every documentary I can find on the subject, and each time I sit for hours afterward trying to plot out the HOW.  And, how is a huge thing!  It takes 6 months to hike the trail from end to end.  Six months –time away from family, jobs and paying the bills each month.  It also costs about 4 thousand dollars to finance the hike.  Finding a solution doesn’t seem possible.  Perhaps it is something we will postpone until retirement –like icing on the cake!

The fever hit again this morning when I came across an article on Yahoo Travel.  It is a great piece written by Julie Fast about the tragic loss of a friend and her quest along the Appalachian Trail.  The Amazing People I Met While Hiking the Appalachian Trail Changed My Life. Julie Fast‎. Oct‎ ‎06‎, ‎2014

julie-fast mountain

Finding peace in nature helped me to heal. (Photo: Julie Fast)

 

However, as much as I long to hike the AT, my favorite film/documentary about just getting out and experiencing the world remains 180° SOUTH!

film-box

THE TRAILER http://www.180south.com/trailer.html

The film documents Jeff Johnson’s 2007 adventurous trek from California to Patagonia, a trip based on the earlier expedition of environmentalist Yvon Chouinard and his friend Doug Tomkins (founder of The North Face), taken in 1968.  Johnson’s expedition is meshed with footage from the first one.  A third component of the film is the inclusion of existing environmental issues discussed by Chouinard and Tomkins (almost 70 now) who continue to live their dream and relish a personal relationship with nature.  Doug and his wife Kris own and live on a 2.2 million acre reserve in both Chile and Argentina where they concentrate on a “defense of nature”. http://www.conservacionpatagonica.org

The film is indescribably good.  Appealing to both my love of the ocean and the mountains, it makes my heart yearn.  When I’ve had a really bad day I listen to the soundtrack in my car.  I’ve watched the documentary so many times that the association the music provides makes me happy within minutes.  In my mind’s eye, I can see Rapa Nui!

I know exactly what I’m watching when I get home tonight –right after I make a huge cold cut sandwich~

*****

ELIZABETH MOZLEY

@ElizabethMozley  &  @CentipedeYAread

And on Facebook – We Share the Same Sky, author Elizabeth Mozley

We Share the Same Sky, a memoir

https://www.amazon.com/Elizabeth-Mozley/e/B00J7KJWIU

Wise beyond her years~

Quote

“The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quiet, alone with the heavens, nature and God.  Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be and that God wishes to see the people happy, amidst the simple beauty of nature.”   Anne Frank

 

 grand tetons

 Photo: Copyright © Hanz en Henriette Meulenbroeks:   Outdek Amerika Nl 

The smallest change in schedule can be delightful~

4:50 a.m.

night-sky

Instead of my morning walk, I am up early to water the plants.  It is beyond dry and I’ve no intention of letting the trees and plants I’ve babied for six years go without a fight.

The stars are out and it is a brilliantly clear sky.  The wind has a chill to it and my heavy hunting jacket is necessary.  Its deep pockets give me a place to put my phone so I can keep up with the time; otherwise I’ll get into what I’m doing, begin to daydream and be out here all morning.  I have to be at work before the students begin to arrive at 7:20.

Sweet Alabama!  Today it is supposed to be in the low 80’s and that is a glorious thing.  The past few months have been unbearably hot.  Dead grass crunches beneath my work boots; it is an unpleasant sound.  Lowering my head, I put in a small request for a long, soaking rain.

There is something so calm and peaceful about being outside in the early morning when everyone else is still sleeping.  Well, actually many are not.

One day last week when I could not sleep, I got up at 2 a.m., started a pot of coffee and went for a long walk.  I was surprised at how many lights were on.  I could actually smell breakfast coming from the open windows of some.  But, the quiet, the black sky and brilliant stars with the wind gently blowing was both invigorating and calming.  I returned home, settled on the couch with coffee and books, and read and until it was time to ready for work.  It was as if I got an extra weekend morning on a weekday.  The simple change in my schedule, the positive way I had begun the morning carried over into the day.

Just One Little Change…

*****

ELIZABETH MOZLEY

@ElizabethMozley  &  @CentipedeYAread

And on Facebook – We Share the Same Sky, author Elizabeth Mozley

We Share the Same Sky, a memoir

https://www.amazon.com/Elizabeth-Mozley/e/B00J7KJWIU

 

Night Sky Photo: http://www.rarewallpapers.cm

A Waiting Time

Waiting.

Never is it an easy thing for me.  Yet some of the best things in life require a waiting time- Pecorino Romano, Brioche, wine, beer, Blanton’s…  Yet these are things to be looked forward to, and therefore the wait is different; anticipation tempers.

Currently, I am waiting for the heat to break, the weather to change.  I am waiting for a long, slow soaking rain that lasts all day and into the night.  I want to hear the constant roll of thunder and the soil so sodden that it is feels like mush beneath my feet.  You see, in the South we are on the verge of a possible drought; the ground in my back yard is so dry and cracked it resembles an ancient map.

When did I begin waiting for summer to end?  When I was a child that was definitely not the case.  I had mourned its nearing end and tried to stretch those last few days out as far and as long as I could.

I have friends who are waiting too -for other things.  And I wonder, is it really wise to spend our days this way?  What if yesterday was as good as it was going to get and we let it slip by while we were lost in want?  Goes back to what my mother used to say about working on something you can be proud of while fitting in a few things you enjoy, here and there.  “Makes the day worthwhile,” she would smile and say.  Being hopeful is essential of course, but taking action is as well.

Maybe that’s why my summer projects overlap –because I can’t stand the in-between time.  My moments of deep languid thought must come quickly, before I remember something else that needs immediate attention.  There is this irritating necessity to be active.  I tried meditating but I’m pretty sure it is not supposed to be a painful experience.  So, I tell myself that when I am busy, my mind gets the same sense of peace and I’ve something to show for it.

I am waiting, too, on a visit from Isaac that isn’t coming anytime soon.

Recently, I’ve found myself padding an empty nest.  Whenever I heard women speak of this in the past, I always shrugged and thought, Whatever! I am so busy, how could I complain over peace and quiet?  Let me tell you, the first few weeks are a miserable thing to experience.  I went through it to a degree when my daughter Anderson moved out at the young age of 17.  But, her brother, Isaac was here to buffer that gaping hole her leaving created.  He recently left for Troy University.  And here I am, a momma without any chicks to tend.

Reminding myself I now have time to write, I gather my journals and scraps of papers (I’ve a tendency to make notes on the back of envelopes and receipts) and put Madeleine Peyroux on the hi-fi.  The joy this brings works like a charm.  (There is background noise of ice tinkling in a highball glass, the smell of a glorious amber liquid.)  Memories join me and I begin rummaging through my old journals until I find the recollection there in writing.

I read it again.  It takes me back.  And, I smile.

Perhaps, there is nothing more detrimental, and yet necessary, to a woman’s heart than nostalgia.

Taken from a journal so many years ago:

 

     And So It Goes…

   Again

     the winds call out,

     tugging and tempting with their persuasion,

     to steal the beckoning sounds of a nearby farm-

     distressed cadence,

     of cows seeking some comfort, the drone of equipment where a

     worker labors his heart for home. The winds lift them,

     float them upward,

     where they sing pleasantly upon my ears.

     Place and rationale are easily forgotten;

     engulfed in the warm blushes of sun and wind,

     I stand languid in luxuries most pure

     as the mind drifts off with daydreams.

 

   Distant, sharpening booms ring out

     so suddenly close upon the ears,

     full of meaning and clarity-

     startling, and yet expected.

     Poor dove,

     how hopelessly he zigzags across open fields,

     pursuing sanction in oaks that

     alas, he will not reach.

     And so it goes

     that the young bond with the old,

     the heart becomes one with the land

     and the boy, through some strange passage,

     is likened to the man.

 

   With gaze seized upward,

     I eye the not quiet green of the oak.

     Harken the crackling dryness of leaves as a wind’s rustling therein

     makes known their age!

     They are ever slowly losing luster, yet refuse

     release –like the mother,

     observing childhood’s nearing end, stands fast

     and clutches to bosom what cannot remain.

     It is a time of between

     as nature, in her ancient copious melee,

     dances betwixt seasons, hesitant in relinquishing

     summer’s sweet hold,

     even as the glowing across the field grows dim.

 

   With emotions sewn

     tight –interwoven

     like virgin woolen thread

     unacquainted with fuller’s earth, unready

     for the cast of dye, unreceptive

     even for salty baptism in a lathered, timeless ocean-

     I stand and watch

     the fields receive their dusting from heaven.

     For there,

     out in the wide unbroken expanse of godly land,

     that is not the drifting of weary leaves

     seeking to rest their breadth upon warmed soil,

     but rather the drifting of gentle down.

Elizabeth Mozley McGrady.  Isaac’s First Dove Hunt, September 11, 2004

* Poem from WE SHARE THE SAME SKY, a memoir.

*****

ELIZABETH MOZLEY

@ElizabethMozley  &  @CentipedeYAread

And on Facebook – We Share the Same Sky, author Elizabeth Mozley

We Share the Same Sky, a memoir

https://www.amazon.com/Elizabeth-Mozley/e/B00J7KJWIU