I went for a walk last night in search of some relief from my dull couch-potato existence.
I head north, earphones in, filling my head with tunes to transport me to the Austen era (and to drown out the noise of gas guzzling trucks passing feet from me on the road).
It’s hard to be truly solitary, even out here. The constant stream of cars somewhat disenchants me.
So I pretend I’m a hitch-hiker, filthy, smelling of sweat, dirt, filled with courage.
I see a pen of horses across the street. The setting sun is throwing a buttery cast on this portion of the world and setting it a-glow. My fingers twitch towards the camera I have slung over my shoulder. I hesitate, wanting to reach my destination ASAP. But I remember how I’m saying “yes” now and tear across the street, taking the camera out of its bag as I go. I try for the perfect picture, one that will adequately capture the scene and atmosphere, one that could be sold as a stock image and displayed on the walls of cheap hotels all across the country. But alas, no matter how many times I meter and re-meter and twist the lens, every photo comes out looking forced, mediocre, and boring. I sigh and give it up as a lost cause.
I remember that the lake is just past the blinking yellow light. The light is visible, but it doesn't seem to be getting any closer. I think about Jay Gatsby as I trudge on. Then I become semi-paranoid about ticks in the sagebrush and take notice of the trash and wine bottles strewing my path, wondering how they all got there and considering coming back another day and picking it all up myself.
I finally pass the light, but I don’t see the entrance to the lake and its getting dark now. I know mom will be hounding me soon, so I cast a forlorn look at the road ahead and quickly do an about face.
As I walk back, I come across a series of things that I imagine are artifacts from my past.
Bret’s cattails.
An empty Magnum Bar box that had found its way here all the
way from Florence.
A horseshoe.
I pick up the horseshoe and take it with me, a token.
Perhaps it will bring me luck.
