A Different Day

Truly to enjoy bodily warmth, some small part of you must be cold, for there is no quality in this world that is not what it is merely by contrast. Nothing exists in itself. If you flatter yourself that you are all over comfortable, and have been so a long time, then you cannot be said to be comfortable any more.

-- Ishmael in Moby Dick

Today was pretty much a repeat of yesterday with a few slight differences:  I woke up snug under the blankets, and again noticed the crisp not-quite 40-degree temperature as soon as I poked my head out a bit.  It made me appreciate the warmth I had, and I looked forward to the day warming up. When the sun had chased away a bit of the chill in the air, I went on another bike ride.  This time, though, I headed north on Dutcher Creek Road instead of south as I did yesterday.  There was no fun-with-fish on this adventure, but it was still a great ride that took me along the Russian River for several miles.  This is where the drought became much more apparent. There are several spots in the river where it is more of a stream, or perhaps a trickle. 

The Russian River is not rushing...

A stark contrast exists between the surrounding lush green trees and the hard gray stone that has become exposed at the bottom of the river.  It appeared almost like the hard white bone that becomes visible beneath a severe wound. I stopped at one point to observe the dry river, and it was perhaps the dramatic difference from the lush surroundings that made it much more interesting to look at.   Had the trees, grasses, and vineyards not been vibrant, I wouldn’t have paid much attention this river that needed repair.  Even the name “Russian River,” which sounds much like “rushing river,” creates a mental picture that is drastically divergent from what actually exists today.   But the combination of the two: the dry wounded river and the vibrant plants that surrounded it were what really made the ride stand out.  It is the contrast in life that keeps things interesting, and I considered for a moment that perhaps this is one thing that has really accented this adventure for me. Living out of a van for a long period of time is strikingly unlike anything I’ve done before.  Not only is it making this journey more delightful, but it also makes me appreciate the life I have back home as well. 

...but the greenery is still nice!

It’s easy to settle into comfortable and familiar habits:  the routine flow of a work day, repeated trips to the same restaurants, a select set of favorite foods each day, conversations on the same, safe topics.  But those habits of comfort start to lack any contrast, and gradually their value and impact declines over time. 

While the river was the main highlight of the ride, I did pass a few other interesting spots along the way.  Outside of a small neatly-tended vineyard with a run-down looking farmhouse, someone had put up an old board that had the word “Free” spray painted on it in bright purple letters.  However, there was nothing around except for a small purple bucket.  I wasn’t quite sure if they were giving away the bucket for free, or if they wanted to state that nothing was indeed free. 

Free....bucket?

But then I thought that perhaps they frequently get rid of junk in their house (there appeared to be plenty of it), and everyone knows the best way to do that is to put it outside with a free sign on it, so perhaps they just left the free sign there for the next discarded item.   I’ve done the free-sign thing multiple times, much to the dismay of Jobie’s teen-aged daughters.  Apparently there is not much that is more embarrassing to a 17-year old girl than having a boy you know walk by your house and see an old desk outside with a “free” sign on it. I know I can just take things to Good Will or throw them away, but I do the "Free" sign just to stir up contrast and keep things interesting.  The best time to do it, I’ve found, is on the day of a first date, or right before a slumber party.  Doing so also gives me the power, later on when there might be much bemoaning about the state of the house, to say “Hey, at least there’s not a free couch out front!”   So I decided that the bright purple “Free” sign was probably there permanently to create contrast.  By highlighting the fact that there was nothing for free at the moment, it made it seem that much more valuable when some old junk actually was there.   “Nothing free today—try again tomorrow!” it silently screamed at me as I rode by.  When I get home, I think I’m going to put up my own permanent “Free” sign, not so much to get rid of anything, but more to prevent things from getting too settled and boring around the house.