There are some beautiful places in Missouri but one of my favorites is the Prairie Garden Trust, managed by my friend Henry and his wife Lorna. I’ve posted about it here many times.
Henry and I usually walk but today we took the Land Rover. (The hot, dry summer made it safe to drive on the prairie without leaving ruts.) Henry took us to some spots where we got to engage the four-wheel drive (low range!) and the truck performed beautifully.
Richard was a poet, performance artist, sculptor, philosopher, film maker, handy-man and life-long friend.
“Picture a very swift torrent, a river rushing down between rocky walls. There is a long, shallow bar of sand and gravel that runs right down the middle of the river. It is under water. You are born and you have to stand on that narrow, submerged bar, where everyone stands. The ones born before you, the ones older than you, are upriver from you. The younger one stand braced on the bar downriver. And the whole long bar is slowly moving down that river of time, washing away at the upstream end and building up downstream.
Your time, the time of all your contemporaries, schoolmates, your loves and your adversaries, is that part of the shifting bar on which you stand. And it is crowded at first. You can see the way it thins out, upstream from you. The old ones are washed away and their bodies go swiftly buy, like logs in the current. Downstream where the younger ones stand thick, you can see them flounder, lose footing, wash away. Always there is more room where you stand, but always the swift water grows deeper, and you feel the shift of the sand and the gravel under your feet as the river wears it away. Someone looking for a safer place to stand can nudge you off balance, and you are gone. Someone who has stood beside you for a long time gives a forlorn cry and you reach to catch their hand, but the fingertips slide away and they are gone. There are the sounds in the rocky gorge, the roar of the water, the shifting, gritty sound of the sand and the gravel underfoot, the forlorn cries of despair as the nearby ones, and the ones upstream, are taken by the current. Some old ones who stand on a good place, well braced, understanding currents and balance, last a long time. Far downstream from you are the thin, startled cries of the ones who never got planted, never got set, never quite understood the message of the torrent.”
–From John D. MacDonald’s Pale Gray for Guilt
UPDATE 6/16/19: Said goodbye to RP yesterday. His remains were cremated and placed in a .50 caliber ammo box (complete with small Confederate battle flag sticker) along with assorted mementos (a two dollar bill; some Risk pieces; etc). The ammo box was placed in the back of a new Cadillac hearse and transported to Piggott, AR for burial (a compromise with Rebecca). At the conclusion of the graveside service the minister reached down and blessed the ammo box. The End.
I found this clip languishing in my flickr account. Barb was doing some (legal) work at a psych facility that had closed and made off with a straitjacket. We share a sense of humor. I was never able to put the thing on but persuaded co-worker Christie to let us buckle her up. I hope and assume that there are more humane restraints today.
I spend most mornings at the Coffee Zone and once or twice a week, my old friend Clyde Lear stops by to chat. Golden years indeed.
The road to our house iced over last night. It’s a moderately steep hill and one of our neighbors went down it sideways and needed some sand and ashes to get back up.
I’ve had the Land Rover for four months and just got around to taking Henry for a ride. More of a photo shoot than a ride, really, but we had a good time. I’ll post some of his excellent photos tomorrow
Life-long friend Richard Peck (RP) with his 1971 Chevy truck. Almost certainly, at some subconscious level, this kindled the flame of my desire of an old truck. For reasons unknown, RP got rid of his truck. Like snipping off a couple of feet of your soul because you don’t need it anymore.
I’ve become acquainted with some really great people thanks to the Land Rover project. A few I’ve met, most I have not but feel like I know them. Charlie has been encouraging me to take some road trips in The Truck.
I took my Rover on a 4 day road trip up north to VT a few weeks ago. Had a blast – put about 400 miles on her and she ran like a top. I use a windshield mounted phone holder (suction cup) and set my iPhone’s Google maps APP to “avoid highways” and see a lot of towns/back country that way. Takes a lot more time but way more fun that trying to keep up with traffic on highways (and a lot more safe). forces you to slow down and actually see things you would otherwise blow past on a highway. This year was my 4th time doing the trip – you meet some great people and I stay at some nice Inns along the way.
That “slow down” thing is big zen mojo for me. Here are a few pics from Charlie’s trip.
