A slow start out of Seattle on October 28th set the pace for this road trip which is expected to continue til mid February. Here it is, almost 60 days later, and Lulu, (the van) and I are a mere 5 hours from home base in Seattle. This is slow traveling at it’s finest.
The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating
Few expectations or plans guide this venture: 1. Head down coastal highway 101 until it’s time to turn around in February. This route is our best chance to stay in temperatures above freezing and avoid frozen pipes.
2. Get in a daily walk, do some reading, and strive to write, even if it’s no more than ‘log’ entries.
Lack of planning has afforded generous opportunity for spontenaiety. Days are not productive in ‘doing’, yet they are productive in ‘being’. Wake up, have coffee, do some daily cleaning, consider the weather, the fuel gauges, tank levels and then, pretty much let the day unfold. This way of living has produced very few, if any, days of malcontent. In fact, my worst day was delightfully finding a little used laundry facility one evening, unfortunately having to purchase a normal size container of detergent at the small, top drawer market, then discovering the overwhelming scent was chokingly offensive! The detergent remained at the laundrymat, the smelliness dissipated in a day or two with much airing of Lulu, and I made sure to purchase normal detergent for future use, and at a reasonable price.
Covid-19 severely limits, or downright cancels, activities which would otherwise provide myriad choices: museums, educational centers, dining out, bookstores (I do miss browsing and reading in bookstores), or meeting new folks. Serindipidously, this slow-travel in a 21 foot home-on-wheels is perfect timing for being isolated and alone. That inner voice demanding productivity, socializing, consuming doesn’t have a chance against the contagiousness of covid.
A successful day is pared down to taking pleasure in what is, noticing and appreciating. Even such mundane transformations as the ripening of bananas in anticipation of baking muffins is a noticable joy! The motion of the ocean. The music, yes, music, of raindrops on the roof, or the way they make artwork of surface water on a calm lake. The still tranquility a stand of trees exudes juxtaposed with the ferocious, dangerous potential they flail when mixed with wind.
So, a walk and a read. Maybe some writing. Be sure Lulu is ok. After that, just enjoy each day as it slowly passes.