This is going to be a blog post about adventure. It’s a blog post about going off the beaten path and finding something beautiful and having a lot of deep thoughts about it afterward. Wow. Original. Enlightening. Whatever. I’m doing this.
Last night my friend Jessica and I went to McBaine, Mo to find “Big Tree.” As a mid-Missouri native, I’ve never had much interest in taking part in typical tourist activities such as finding a large tree and taking photographs next to it. For a while, this used to be a result of living in Seattle for a year, where mountains and water are only minutes away.
My snobbish Northwest-girl notions were squelched as soon as we pulled up to the tree. I wasn’t even sure we were in the right season anymore. The leaves were still spring green, and were specked with bits of blue from the 5:00 sky. We took our obligatory photos and listened to some girls perched on a nearby SUV discuss the popularity of the Kardashians and which one of the sisters they thought would have a body weight issue next.
Jessica found a Missouri green stink bug, named him Burt and accidently decapitated him when he tried to suction his slimy body to her hand. Devastated by the loss, we got back in my dusty burgundy 1998 Toyota Camry and headed for Eagle Bluffs. My dad had told us that we could find some real Missouri beauty there. Sure, Dad. But I packed my Washingtonian friend up, plugged in some Joni Mitchell and took off down the gravel road to the Eagle Bluffs Conservation area. We travelled for about 15 minutes and stopped by one of the ponds, just as the sun was setting. Jess decided to take “edgy” photos of me by the water and claimed I looked “so hipster.” She also claimed that one of the pools labeled “pool 8” is where they would drop the bodies in an Alfred Hitchcock horror flick.
We laughed as loud as we wanted and we kicked the gravel dust around us to the clouds swirl around our figures as we danced in the dusk fog. This all sounds so poetic and ideal, but it was. It really was.
Last Friday in class, we talked about writer’s block and how it affects each of us differently. For me, the writer’s block comes when I let my environment concave and unsettle me. I’ve felt like that for a long time. It’s always one of those moments when someone asks, “Are you ok?” and I answer “yeah,” but that’s not what I want to say.
Last night, I went on a trip to the middle of nowhere with my best friend. We kicked the dust around and found bugs and took edgy photos by small conservation ponds. And I was OK.