Dead End

We used to be part of a group of friends who referred to our group as "the Yaks" and we'd go camping around Southern California. It was often the case that we would drive for hours, arrive at our destination in the dark, and then hike to our campsite and set up our tents.

In the morning, we would emerge from our tents like newborns from the womb, blinking at the brightness and gazing around to see where it was we had ended up.

On one such excursion, we drove to Ojai, backpacked over a mile (not knowing Connie was pregnant at the time) and camped on the banks of the Sespe River. In the morning we rose from our tents and saw an expanse of orange and yellow along the river. At our approach, the color rose up in waves and resolved itself into migrating butterflies. They were everywhere.

That feeling of living in a coccoon and emerging into the world is a powerful one. Lately I've felt the same sense of coccooning. Our house is surrounded by trees, which we treasure, but as a result it's difficult to know what our environment is like. Without the trees, we'd have a nice view of Mt. Bachelor.

Now that I'm done shuttling our possessions from one home to another, we've had the opportunity to start exploring our new world. A couple weekends ago, we went to Mt. Bachelor, not to ski, but simply to see what was there and what was along the way.

Mt. Bachelor

There's a similar sensation of revelation as the snow is melting. Our driveway is half-exposed, as are the areas under many of the trees in our yard. In some cases, what's being revealed are cigarette stubs and a Subway cup left over from the guy who sold us the house when he was putting in the decks, but it's still thrilling to see more and more of our yard exposed. A few more days of sun and non-freezing temperatures and our roof might be free of snow.

In California, a cul-de-sac was marked with a sign at its entrance that read, "Not a through street." Our new house is on a short cul-de-sac, and it's marked with a sign that reads, "Dead End." I hope that's not portentous.



Look! You can see our road's asphalt instead of ice and snow! Our house is just ahead on the left, just past the telephone pole. Those trees are in our front yard.

As for dead ends, that's where you've arrived in this post.


Blog Tag: Chatter