Wedding Song - God Knew That I Needed You

Monday, August 10, 2020

SUNDAY~FUNDAY #17: Lunch on Steamboat Slough Road

The last few days I’ve not been getting to bed before 4 AM – and sometimes not until 5:30 AM; so, I’ve been sleeping the mornings away … and morning hours is when most people want me to do things with them.

I’m missing the morning meetups because I’m missing Bob.

All of August, September, October, November and December are going to be blurry months. I’m not going to be very attentive, because I’m going to be putting my thoughts on hold. Those months – e.v.e.r.y.d.a.y.o.f.t.h.o.s.e.m.o.n.t.h.s. – are going to be hard to get through.

It is true that I’m done with hard grieving.

I’ve never mourned – Bob’s spirit still lives: it just doesn’t live on my reality level anymore; Bob had graduated to a higher level of living.

But I do miss Bob’s presence.

And I don’t want to think too much about those months Bob’s body was shutting down and his spirit was taking flight. So, I am putting those images and emotions on hold.

But sometimes the thoughts jump the safeguards and refuse to be reined in, and hit with a 1-2 punch that hurts; and I am too wired to sleep.

Hence the nightbird and sleepyhead activities of late.

I’m thinking that will continue until well into January 2021 sometime.

People don’t “get it”; and I am tired of explaining it.

Last night (or rather, early this morning) when I dropped into bed; I didn’t wake up until after 9 AM. I’d only had 4 hours of sleep. I wanted to enjoy a Sunday~Funday activity, but a long daytrip drive was out of the question – it just would not have been a safe or prudent thing to do.

What to do?

A long drive was not wise today.

Neither was staying home and feeling trapped by thoughts I didn’t want to revisit; covid restrictions that are never going to end according to fauci; losing hope of ever enjoying the Senior Group activities I joined this year … or becoming an active member of the hike club I had hoped to join (these things have been halted due to covid restrictions and ramped up fearmongering). I hate feeling trapped, and I buck against hopelessness.

While I was making the bed, I decided a half hour drive would be okay: and the activity once I got to where I planned on going, would keep me active (which would keep me awake and functionable); and I’d … hopefully … sleep like a baby tonight after all the walking.

We only get one shot at this life on Earth – I am not going to spend it feeling helpless or hopeless.

Now that my life is so rearranged, it’s time for a cool change; and a river breeze sounded good to me.


I’m not keen on water – it actually terrifies me; but as long as I’m not too close to it or in it (like swimming or boating), I do okay with it. Willow Grove County Park is closer: 5 minutes away, but people swim/and let their kids swim in the Columbia River; and I didn’t want to watch some dumbass, or their kids, drown – I’ve done my stint of death watch in 2018, and I don’t feel the need for Columbia River trauma drama this year. So, I don’t think I will walk the trail at Willow Grove until swimming season is over.

I pulled some clothes on/tied my hiking shoes on, grabbed my backpack, and packed a light lunch – placed atop an ice pack in one of the large containers I used to pack Bob a Supper in when he drove for Lemmon’s: I put that in one of the backpack pockets. I also grabbed one of the books I’d bought at a Headquarters Road garage sale yesterday, and threw that in the backpack too. I planned on spending the whole afternoon at the Julia Butler Hansen Refuge.

The book I started reading while eating lunch.
Julia Butler Hansen Refuge from Heron Pointe - 32 mins

I parked on the Cathlamet Office end of the Refuge this trip. When I had walked the trail a month ago, I had walked the trail from the Skamokawa end (https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2020/07/sundayfunday-14-julia-butler-hansen.html).

The Refuge Office where I parked the car.
Plan for the day ...

The day was perfect for walking.

I enjoy walking – I enjoy hiking.

I enjoy being outdoors, in nature.

There was a little breeze kicking up, and it felt good: it counteracted the 81-degree sunshine. There was birdsong on the breeze. There was the earthy smell of the exposed mudflats. There was the pungent odors of the sun-warmed fields, cut grasses along the roadsides, and the wildflowers and berries.

I was in my element 😉

The bramble bushes were taller than me, so the sun-warmed, juicy berries, were nose level. Very aromatic.
Blue Nightshade. Pretty little poisonous weed.
The toxic berries that follow the pretty blue flowers of the weed.
Long, thin purple blossoming loosestrife spires.
Large Purple Bull thistle.
Cattails in the slough.
Cows - the gentle breeze carried thier soft moos on the wind.
Morning Glory among the cattails in the slough.
Japanese knotweed. Chartreuse green leaves with a foam green blossom that turns white.
Jewelweed. Tiny orange trumpet-like blossoms.
Tansy. This little flower looks like a lot of tiny yellow dots.
Cow Parsnip.

I happened to look up at the sky when birds flew overhead, and what I saw intrigued me … it looked like twin shooting stars were streaking across the sky:

I watched this for a few minutes ...

The 1.3-mile walk to where I planned to eat my lunch and read a few chapters appeared around the bend. I saw a great blue heron standing in the mudflats between pilings, so I walked gently so as not to disturb it.

Great Blue Heron on the mudflats of the slough.

Bob always liked seeing them: he would have enjoyed seeing this one – it was huge. Apparently, it is enjoying “the life of Reilly” here on the Refuge. LOL

Lunch break spot.
Stinking chamomile at my feet; it resembles a daisy, but the leaves are a ferny vine.

I sat on the cement block eating my lunch, reading my book, and watching the waters of Steamboat Slough, and the Columbia River beyond it, flow.


Vehicles flashed by on their way to Horntra’s Beach. A couple walked past. And a few bicyclists pedaled past. You meet friendly people when you’re out and about.

Lunch finished; book page corner bent to mark where I left off reading … I slipped my backpack on, and got back to walking.

Geese on the mudbanks of the slough.
Baby goslings swimming! I didn't see these until later on, at home when I zoomed pic in.
Little purple milk thistles - finches love this.

Another mile ahead, the Trailhead came into view.

Little yellow balloon blossoms, on the trail - Google was not helpful in identification.
I was dogged by buzzards on the trail ... I’d been walking briskly in the hot sun – I probably didn’t smell very sweet; but I didn’t think I smelled dead. LOL

There wasn’t much happening on the trail.

But I didn’t care.

I walk to free my mind and just be.

I don’t think any more than I absolutely have to when I am walking.

I pay attention to my surroundings, I notice the flowers, animals/sights and sounds all around me … but that’s it: I don’t think too hard. Walking is my relaxing time – my ‘down time’. I don’t walk to brag about where I’ve been. I don’t speed walk to melt off alcohol or dessert calories. I walk to shake off the world’s stress and nonsense. I want my mind free to absorb nature around me – I walk for physical/emotional/spiritual balance. I try not to absorb more than the sigh of the breeze in the treetops, or as it passes by my ears: when I walk, I want nature talking to me: and I want my senses to be free to listen.


When I reached the end of the trail and pivoted for the backtrack back to the Highlander, my steps had morphed from ‘walk’ to ‘hike’ – by the time I reached my parked car, I would have 5½ miles under my belt.

Purple leaves - white, ball shaped blooms: don't know what it is - Google is not helpful.
The wild roses are done for the season.
Pink, fluffy spire of Rose Spiraea looks like a wand of cotton candy.
Red-osier dogwood; white berries bush.
High tide - geese with goslings have moved to higher ground.

I had spent 4 hours enjoying the pleasant solitude; the cares and worries of the world had been left back home, in Longview. And I had left the car windows open a bit, so when I got back to the car as the sun was slipping towards the horizon; it was in the shade, and cool inside.

I don’t know what I want to do with my life; yet.

Things are in a continual rearranging mode.

Right now, I’m just going with the flow … and whatever happens: happens.


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