Skip to main content

Periphery, the Edge Traveler

Crow's epic perch
When we were road tripping this last spring, I caught what I consider to be an “epic” photo.  We were driving along California SR 1 and passed a wide spot in the road known as Westport.  There was a sweet little cemetery that had a killer (pun not intended) view of the Pacific Ocean.   We whipped over so I could snap a couple of pics.  That’s when my “this is the coolest, most epic” moment happened.  A big, wind-ruffled oily black crow landed on the cemetery sign.  Oh, my stinkin’ goodness - this was absolutely beyond legendary…not to mention that I have a thing for crows and grackles!

This photo has been sitting on my computer in a file labeled “April 2014” just waiting for Halloween to come around.   In the spirit of all things blustery, wild and autumn here’s a little story of the Edge Traveler…


 Periphery.  That’s where he chose to be.  Never quite revealing his whereabouts was better for this nomad.  Shadows and back roads were his costume, allowing him to peer into the warps of time.

Tonight, as he hugged the fringes, the wind echoed strange and icy through the blackened trees, rustling the leaves into a twisting whirl.  Flames from the bonfire crackled mockingly at the inky sky, while Swamp children capered to the melody of the Gypsy fiddler.  Aromas of simmering game flecked the night air.  Muted light filtered from pumpkin luminarias; a scene much to the liking of the Edge Traveler. 

A portal in time was his observation, as October faded and was about to be just another outlying memory to be categorized in the archives of the mind.

A watcher from the threshold in nature, the journeyer’s desire for knowledge was drawn into the goings-on: merriment, fetes and revelries, and much dining on the likes of flora and fauna.  Cook emerged and was off again foraging the forest for earthy delights to add to the smoldering cauldron; a veritable feast celebrating the full harvest and passing of seasons.

The Traveler had looked over the edge and witnessed a fracture in ordinary times, contented, watching from perimeter.

High flying impressions of Halloween…

Missy


If you have been mildly amused, challenged or inspired by what you have read, please pass on my blog to a friend, colleague, family member or even random acquaintance


Comments

  1. sewsavyOctober 31, 2014 at 2:53 PM

    How perfect that photo was and fortunate for you to capture it. A good story that could go a long way.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Missy AOctober 31, 2014 at 3:30 PM

      Thanks, Marlene. I couldn't believe that I actually got that photo! It was amazing...and a really beautiful spot in the road.

      Delete
  2. UnknownSeptember 28, 2015 at 8:26 AM

    Hi Missy--Brrrr! This puts me in such a mood for Halloween! Thank you for passing it along, and for being a fellow Edge-Traveler...

    And fantastic shot! What are the chances?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Missy ASeptember 29, 2015 at 12:37 PM

      Hey Marisa, I'll give you a name. We are fellow Edge-Travelers...and catching that photo was epic!

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

road tripping: french glen and steens mountain

we took a stinkin' lot of dirt roads, but i wouldn't have it any other way The drive wasn’t long by west coast standards, a mere few of hours; which meant there was plenty of leisure (interpreted coffee time) before leaving on another road trip escapade.  I can’t begin to tell you how much fun it is to pack a bag, gas up the car and set out to see what can be seen. An interesting thing I’ve discovered on these exploits, is that having lived in Oregon for the majority of my life, I’ve missed “seeing” a lot of things. You know, I think we all get into the habit of going to the same places, which is a good thing, but we forget about the “other” places that are right in our own backyards. Case in point, yesterday afternoon, when my darling man and I went to Tumalo Falls. I’ve been to Skyliner Snow Park, but never gone the few more dirt road miles to see the falls. Holy cow! Is that lame, or what? a sweet little place, no frills, but plenty of yesteryear
8 comments
Read more

lent, not lint

says it all - the grotto It sticks to your clothes and shows up splendidly on black, it gets caught on the screen in the dryer and socks elaborately decorate your toes with the stuff.  Yep, lint:  the fuzzy, ravelings of fabric that cling to everything; like Velcro, only different. Lint actually has a purpose.  By scraping it from linen it can be made into a soft, fleecy fabric.  Cotton staple – lint fibers – are spun into yarn.  While all of this is riveting, especially while staring at the lint in your belly-button, there’s more to Lent than its sound doppelganger. lint: fluffy, minute shreds of yarn lent: a season of preparation These two tiny words sound similar in our vernacular, but have massively different implications in our lives.  We clean-up lint and toss it in the trash.  Lent, however is a prepping time for us to realize we’re not great at cleaning up our own stuff. Lent was originally a season between winter and summer, now called spring.  The s
6 comments
Read more

pebbles

strewn pebbles Walking on the path I noticed the pebbles. I stopped and picked one up, holding it in my hand to feel it’s texture. Tiny and smooth, it felt warm from the sun. Continuing on my walk, the way was scattered with pebbles of different shapes and sizes; some flat and polished, others round and craggy with sharp edges that could cut the skin. I considered the meaning, if any. Some had been sanded to perfection by time and wear. Others recently broken and chipped were harsh, ugly to feel and look at. No matter, all were pebbles; that was fact. Missy If you have been mildly amused, challenged or inspired by what you have read, please pass on my blog to a friend, colleague, family member or even random acquaintance
4 comments
Read more