“Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.”

                -Anais Nin

 

I love this quote by Anais Nin because it’s what I believe about the power of friends.  And I’m not just referring to run of the mill acquaintances.  I’m referring to friends whom become part of our soul and consciousness forever.  Anais was a prolific, early 20^th Century erotic fiction writer long before the “Fifty Shades of Grey” phenomenon.  I only knew about Anais because I stumbled upon one of her dusty books in a used book store years ago and couldn’t put it down (blushing).  For years I thought Anais was a man (what woman could be allowed to write like that so long ago?) until someone corrected me . . . which made me feel like Scarlett Johansson’s nitwit boyfriend in Sofia Coppola’s wonderful movie “Lost in Translation” . . . when he thought Evelyn Waugh (the famous writer) was a woman.   

 

Some thoughts on a recent trip to my lake sanctuary . . .

 

I did a ton of manual labor at the lake.  When I say a ton, I mean literally a ton.  Because every time it rains (especially during the historic flooding of last summer) a ton of gravel washes from the road onto my driveway.  So I spent the better part of a day shoveling in the summer-like heat even though it’s October; shoveling chunks of angular, grey granite into buckets to be dumped back in the road and smoothed over with a rake.  There is no doubt I’ll be shoveling that same gravel back into the rode next spring.  But the sun felt good on my face, turning my nose read. 

 

I woke up early one morning and hauled my kayak to the water’s edge.  Early morning is perhaps the best time to kayak because the prairie winds calm down to nothing overnight leaving the water without a ripple . . . a vast sheet of glass.  To slice through this glassy plane, silently save for the splash, splash of the paddles and the occasional surface roll of a sand bass, is inexpressibly calming.  And then to feel the brilliant orange sunrise slapping you in the face as it rises over a distant bluff is an awakening indeed . . . no coffee needed.  And then it warms a bit and the winds begin to stir and then the water birds begin their carrying on and feeding . . . a big blue heron, some cormorants and geese way out on the water. 

 

 

I paddled across the water to the edge of a high bluff that I’ve written about before.  What I’ve never mentioned is that it is one of the best places to see bald eagles in Oklahoma, as they build their nests in the towering oak trees dotting the steep sandstone bluff.  But even though it’s the best place, no one really knows about it except for a few boaters, because they can only be seen from the water.  It is especially wonderful to be there in that place on the water in a plastic kayak as the sun rises up, bathing the eagles and the oak trees and the high bluff in rays of piercing, golden light.     

 

I’ve been uninspired lately, which drives me up the wall.  I’m not a machine like some whom can bring forth beautiful things willy-nilly with routine, effort and discipline.  I seem to be only able to create when my stars line up and I feel just right.  I’ll never understand why this is but I’m learning to embrace it . . . enjoy the highs when they appear, because they will always appear if I’m patient enough.  Perhaps that’s what separates the men from the boys and I will admit I’m still a boy and most likely always will be. 

"three buck Chuck"

We are ecstatic because the state legislature is slowly reversing laws that have been in place in this teetotaler state since prohibition.  For instance, pretty soon I’ll be able to buy cold beer in a liquor store.  Even better, I’ll be able to buy wine in a grocery store.  I know for certain it’s the only reason Trader Joes finally decided to put a store in Oklahoma.  Can you imagine a Trader Joes without “three buck Chuck”?