take me away.

[This is old too, but I need consolidation in my life. so from one blog to another here's a little bit more of my life]

FEBRUARY 20, 2010

a day in the city:

20 February 2010

12:01 am

aboard a megabus at midnight.

manhattan bound.

the silent city sleeps.

traffic slows.

lights dim.

i strain my eyes through the dirty smudged window to soak in these moments.

to absorb the low-lit buildings, the black sky briefly punctuated by infrequent blurs of starlight.

times like these, moments of abundant observation, set my mind thinking.

it has been catapulted into orbit.

i sit here alone.

with my thoughts.

to take on the world.

arrived: 7th and 28th.

backside of penn station: 4:45 am.

had times square to myself this morning. and broadway too.

chai in hand, cut across 42nd to grand central.

enjoyed emptiness and silence and photographic opportunity.

6:30 am

caught sight of the sun. back down 42nd to the the water. to witness a beautiful sunrise over the east river.

back to grand central to live, love, dream, wait. met a soldier and a prenatal psychologist. momentary companions on this journey.

sunlight streaks across the station and warms my face, this page and my very soul. what is it about the sun? my mother would understand. i wish she was here. i wish you could hold onto moments like these forever. i don’t want to forget. i see and feel so much. i just want it to stay with me. Forever.

7:55 am

back in grand central. in my spot. waiting. just being and relishing every moment of it.

watching hundreds come and go. some more than once. just sitting, reading, contemplating the universe.

10:15 am

caught sight of the cadet corporal out of track 34. lost him. reunited in front of the west balcony. salt bagels in hand we wandered to lexington. out into the metropolitan marvel that is the city of new york.

searched for the cash cab. counted duane reades. soaked in sunshine. pursued the ever-elusive bleecker street. victory. descended into the subway for bearings. again. and again. came to rest in a beautiful park well armed with benches. we sat. the sun on our faces. talking. sorting through life. processing this journey. together.

we sat for hours.

shadow joined our laps and lives for a moment. then was gone. the wind eventually carried us back to 7th, down into the subway, uptown on the 1 to penn. borders browsing and bathrooms. shoes and the knicks. almost. a chilly meander toward 8th and 31st, my place of departure. we talked. laughed. waited. enjoyed the companionship of 18 years lived together.

and now here i sit. district bound again. my face to the sun once more.

God you are good.

Wind.

[April 20, 2010. This is old but in the interest of blog consolidation I'm posting it again here.]

I love mountains. I always have. And I’m certain I always will.

As a girl from the west I always had a hard time considering the Appalachians real mountains. With their highest peak only 6,684 ft above sea level and no glaciers or eternal snowcaps I generally disregarded them as merely a long set of large hills. But this weekend the Blue Ridge Mountains earned a bit of respect from me, and a place in my heart. I learned a lot up there and had easily one of the best nights of my life. Needless to say, I’m beginning to reconsider.

Friday night around 9 we all piled into the car and set of for Old Rag Mt.. After a few u-turns, and near death experiences we arrived at its base. Around 1 we began our ascent. Up and up and up, with a break now and then to climb a tree, scramble up an inviting boulder, stare into a seemingly endless abyss of black darkness, or up at the beckoning brightness of the stars. We climbed through silence and conversation. Sneezing, coughing, singing, laughing.

After a few hours of climbing and searching for blue markers like pastel colored eggs on Easter we reached the top. It was magnificent. The stars forcefully pierced the thick carpet of black that was the sky. Dark peaked silhouettes rose up around us as we stood atop the boulders. And then the wind. Being all well experienced, brilliant climbers we decided it would be wise to make camp on the top of the mountain to await the sun. The wind blew with ceaseless fury as we tumbled into a crevice of rock and huddled into a singular mass of rapidly dissipating body heat. And there, together. We waited. We talked and sang. Cried and laughed. Complained about knees and temperature and lemmings. And screamed. A blissful insanity engulfed us with the wind and liberated us just to be alive and to embrace all that was life in those hours. Even the merciless wind itself. At one point I was sure the sun would never break the peaked horizon and illuminate the cold dark night, but somehow even that didn’t bother me. That night we all lived life as it was meant to be lived. With one another, and to the absolute fullest. Something about suffering together does that. There is always profound beauty in the pain; if you look for it. That is something I forget far too often. I forget what it’s like to abandon inhibitions and live life wildly and fully with those I have the pleasure of sharing it with. Funny how mountaintops and being immersed in raw, rugged nature can bring that all back.

Here’s to the new perspective that climbing unfailingly brings and to living life daily screaming at the top of my lungs in the face of the fierce wind and in concert with beloved friends.