Sunday, January 18, 2009


Today was a "spare the air" day, which apparently means that people aren't supposed to have fires in their fireplaces. Not that anybody would want a fire when it's almost summer-like outside, although the whitish haze made it look wintery. Probably isn't doing our lungs much good either.

I took my sweet time deciding on whether or not to go on a hike today, but finally went. Good thing, too. I could feel the knot in my gut loosen as I walked into the hills. I wasn't really thinking of much of anything, just concentrating on my surroundings. My mind cleared as I walked, shedding layers of needless complications, becoming serene. Call it wilderness therapy, if you will, although the nearby hills aren't exactly wilderness. Despite the official air-quality warnings, lots of people hit the trails today. The city below was made indistinct by the all encompassing haze, and the hills beyond seemed almost ghostlike. I tried out some new trails, and found myself at a little pond tucked away beyond the reservoir. I could hear the Chorus frogs chorusing somewhere nearby, and all manner of birds burst from the undergrowth at my approach. Other than that, silence reigned. I had left the crowds of hikers behind on the more popular loop trails. I used the solitude to just let my emotions wash over me, without complicating them with thoughts. That's sometimes harder than I would like it to be. I am, I think, prone to overthinking things; for making excuses and justifications. Sometimes I forget to just *be*. Solo hiking gives me time to just hang out with myself, away from the siren call of the computer and the other mundane obligations of my days. It really has been awhile since I've gone hiking alone. Over the last few years, I've done more hiking than many people do in a lifetime, but that's all been at the head of a line of students. Definitely not solo hiking.

On the way back, I was so content with just being that I didn't stop to correct a moment of millipede/centipede confusion I overheard. That's usually a hard thing for a naturalist to ignore.

Currently listening to Goblin "Deep Red"

4 comments:

Prettylittlecrow said...

My real life continually interrupts my intention to comment on-line. A sign perhaps, but I choose to override that! So, quickly:

Thing the first: I envy you the Almaden Quicksilver Trails. Your photograph is lovely. I remember a spot where Mt. Umunhum is visible on one side and San Jose on the other. Also, I recall one beautifully round tree. It was a great place for a little nap, aside from waking to lizards in the pants! Thank you for making me remember that.

Thing the second: Are you a watcher of Deep Red or is it just the music? I am a chicken for the scary visual, especially if realistic. Music that frightens, I love...but imagery, noooooo, squealy little mess! I always find it amusing when nature-loving, peaceful, humanist types go for ghastly entertainment. I may be mischaracterizing you, but you do come away in print as this sort.

And finally, let me echo your happiness over the change of Office. I wrote something similar regarding hope/optimism and what is to come. It is so good not to feel discouraged and embarrassed by the collective national voice. It has been a while.

~L

dr silence said...

As usual, thanks for your comments Lorelei!

Yes, I am both a listener and watcher of scary entertainment. You've characterized me correctly in that I would consider myself a nature-loving, peaceful, humanist type. How to reconcile that with my taste in entertainment? Well, I think it has something to do with our origins as a species. For the majority of human history, we spent a good deal of time being scared - scared of whatever lurked beyond the ring of light cast by our fires, scared of the great many things we didn't quite understand, etc. These days, our fear is often of a different type - less primal, less... immediate. We fear abstractions. Scary entertainment, in some ways, reconnects us with that long ago, primal fear. It gets the adrenaline pumping. It makes us (me, anyway) feel more alive. That said, I've known people who have gone through real situations of primal fear, and find that they're less interested in fictional horror. Again, not a hard and fast rule, and not scientifically investigated, but food for thought nonetheless.

You can see that I've spent some time thinking about this (perhaps overthinking) in an attempt to explain it to myself.

Perhaps horror films will become less popular during the Obama administration because there will be less of that primal fear going around. We'll have to wait and see. I think entertainment often reflects our collective mood.

Glad my post triggered good memories of Almaden Quicksilver. It's currently about a 10 minute drive from my apartment, so it's my go-to place when I need a quick (or not so quick) hike.

cheers,
John

Prettylittlecrow said...

Oh Dear, you really have given this topic thought. Yes, I see your thinking. There are reasons for that to which we are drawn. Perhaps I will contemplate my favorite movies this way. They beautiful, yet heartbreaking. I like to have a head filled with music and an overwhelmingly sad heart as the credits roll. This is not too unlike your adrenaline, I'd say!

Incidentally, we've both commented before on the ways modern culture seeks to numb and divide us from our origins. From how we relate to one another(irony noted..type, type) to parenting, to gender roles, to patience and on.

My idealistic example...I refuse to microwave. Food preparation should not be speedy. It is a ritual tied to many other rituals; both for me personally and through human history. Of course, I say this from my very comfortable home. I'm certainly not crushing wheat with a stone, but like you, I find the sociology fascinating.

You must be a marvelous dinner guest!

~Lorelei

dr silence said...

True art is cathartic, in whatever form it takes. I love the wrenching feeling that comes with the viewing of tragic films, but abhore that feeling in real life situations, of course.

I was nearly moved to tears at a concert the other night, actually. The band projected such a compelling combination of darkness and hope that it was impossible to not be moved. If a band can make me cry, they become a favorite for life.

I admire your refusal to use the microwave. I'm usually too rushed to spend the proper amount of time preparing food, but it has been bothering me lately. That said, I'm currently using the oven, but I'm cooking something I took out of a box - something else that bothers me (although apparently not enough to take the next step and change my ways).

As usual, I appreciate your comments. All the best!

John