Isabella Bird Miscellany

I like words. I use a thesaurus. Words are expressive. Words trigger thoughts and tell stories in and of themselves. Recently, I’ve seen two words which are normally nouns turned into verbs ; a thing became an action. Cool concept, right? A little awkward to say: neighboring - storying Common words – neighbor and story – were given an “ing” suffix. Instantly, they took on a new life. No longer was a neighbor just a person, it was an action, a way of relating to those who surround us. It implies presence, friendliness and hospitality. Neighboring requires something, the giving of a part of us. (See full article about “ Neighboring ” at Relevant Magazine) Storying took neighboring to a different place. Movement was attached to the telling. It was used in relation to sharing about God with people living on Lake Victoria in Africa. Stories were put in context of the culture and given hands and feet. I guess what I respond to in both words is they beg for

‘cause the desert had turned to sea there were plants and birds and rocks and things there was sand and hills and rings - America, "Horse With No Name" - I’m reentering our long, indirect road trip in May. Not by accident we had “America” as our ‘tripping music when we reached the ocean in SoCal. Following an intentional wander through silent deserts, now it was time for plants and birds and crowded life. Just as the solitude of the desert is good for the soul, so is watching waves that go on forever while earthing your feet in minute grains of sand that can’t be counted. The Northern journey to “ Ventura Highway ,” while actually driving on Ventura Highway was just as known and unknown as the desert trek. The beauty of travelling during the shoulder season is spontaneity; reservations aren't necessary.  I'm gripped by the Missions, which are scattered throughout California, so they were on the agenda. If by chance we stumbled upon a fe