I finished my Wyoming mule deer hunt not with a heroic roar but with a whimper. After five days of hard hunting I never got in range of an animal. My primary memory is walking the dry, wind-torn plains avoiding cactus and dehydration, missing my family, friends, and the ocean an incalculable amount. I drove Starflyte from Wyoming to Santa Cruz in 21 hours flat. I started at 4 a.m. and arrived at 1 a.m. the next morning, stopping only for coffee and gas. I took Highway 80 across the ghost-white plains of Salt Lake City, past the dystopian casinos of Nevada, and over the crisp Sierra Nevada Mountains. With my windows down late at night, I drove over the curvy road into the Santa Cruz Mountains and smelled my first redwood tree since I had departed four months prior. The familiar scent turned me into a 12-year-old girl at a Justin Bieber concert, and I let out a deafening high-pitched squeal. When I finally pulled my ’97 Ford RV into my driveway, my mind and vehicle were in a state of disarray. I was finally home, exhausted and ready for a hot shower.
Another witty entertaining self-reflective short story. One of the relevant Buddha stories deals with how many cows do you need? The solution (perhaps in this day and age a mathematical calculation) is never an easy one! It helps though to work on keeping it in mind as we often habitually accumulate stuff.
This one rocks...hard. Thanks for reinvigorating my reflex to give the middle finger to consumerism. I'll read this again as a long-ass, Mantra, anytime I start to feel the shiny-object, gravitational pull that very much is centered here in CA for the majority.
Another witty entertaining self-reflective short story. One of the relevant Buddha stories deals with how many cows do you need? The solution (perhaps in this day and age a mathematical calculation) is never an easy one! It helps though to work on keeping it in mind as we often habitually accumulate stuff.
This is the place where you can comment and I'll read it.
This one rocks...hard. Thanks for reinvigorating my reflex to give the middle finger to consumerism. I'll read this again as a long-ass, Mantra, anytime I start to feel the shiny-object, gravitational pull that very much is centered here in CA for the majority.