Quiet Sunday

I'm feeling really pensive this afternoon. Perhaps it's the effect of the book I'm reading, which is Trespass, by Amy Irvine. I've been immersed in it for days and am nearing the end. Is it her personal struggle for inner peace and contentment that's bothering me, or is it her sad but beautifully-written tales of how the desert wilderness in her world of Southern Utah is being desecrated? Perhaps it's both. I've found some sense of connection with her personal plight, even with some of its seeds and perhaps with some of its meaning -- or is the meaning only of my personal plight as it parallels hers? Hard to tell. And, perhaps I'm simply feeling content with my day and that alone has awakened the pensive mood.

It's been a beautiful, warm and sunny day here in Brookings. Since there was no morning fog, I went on a very early walk of exploration of a state park less than a mile from here -- no need to drive, I simply walked down the road. A couple of hours later I returned home and have since spent the day puttering and reading and.... being pensive.

I miss my friends and contacts and yes, even the street people and strangers on the sidewalks of Eugene. I'm much more isolated here -- much less contact with people and I'm needing contact. I could, of course, go upstairs here in the building and no doubt find people in a community room, but so far that has not appealed. Most folks here are a good bit older than I am and not as active and I just don't feel like partaking of the necessary conversation that takes place as people first meet. I get tired of questions, of talking about myself and my past. There's a community dinner next Friday night and unless I get a better offer, I'll probably go to that with my neighbor the artist, who has made the offer.

Lots I want to do this coming week -- check out the local Azalea Park to see if the Azaleas are in full bloom for next weekend's festival; follow a path off the highway in search of a particular beach; and drive back north to Pistol River to walk that extraordinarily beautiful beach and check out the little village of the same name. I also am beginning to itch to ride my bike -- take off on a short trip up the highway to see how strong my biking legs are after a winter hiatus. Busy, Busy, Busy. But -- those are all solitary activities and I think I need to find something less solitary -- perhaps check out the local animal shelter to volunteer. That's been in the back of my mind since I first came down to check the town out, and I need to check it out. My furniture should also be arriving this week, although I don't yet know what date. More Busy, Busy, Busy.

My legs and ankles feel the barefoot walk in the sand -- which is a good thing. More muscles being awakened and used and strengthened.