Tuesday, May 31, 2022

mmmdcxii

no. 22 – A Thank You Note
             
 to Planet Earth

I’ve trekked across
this treacherously
gorgeous country,
from coast to coast
or so (relishing each
of the contiguous 48
states; the majority
of them on several
occasions), I sup
pose, if all told, 6
or 7 times, and that’s
not even counting 
the routine dozen 
or so that I’ve 
traveled those
stretches made
just for visiting
home from any
number of others
like, say, in the 
upper midwest 
or from boston or
san francisco straight
to dad’s old farm.
and to his folks
in detroit grow
ing up. or our vac
ation to the nation’s
capitol in 1976. or to
california about 5 years
later. but those 7 full
stretches from the at
lantic to the pacific and
back, only one of them
by airplane, once (and
only one way) in a u-
haul truck by way of
a series of motel 6’s,
and thrice by train,
all the way there
and back, which is
my favorite way that
I’ve ever traveled (a
cross land, at any rate),
and I am here to tell
you that this land,
the land which we
call ours, the land of
the entire world, as
experienced thus far
by this body, and all
that was and is left
of its senses, can be so
godawful flat and vast and
boring at times, sure, but
not only is there a won
drous beauty in all of
that vast, boring flat
ness, but when that
terrain gets divided
up, for example by
such varied magni
ficences as the oz
arks, the ouachitas,
the appalachians, the
rockies, the rolling hills
of utah or the endless
mountainous highways
in vermont, the grand
canyon, the metropol
ises or the blips, even
those two- maybe three-
dog towns, over nation
al parks like yosemite
and yellowstone, each
of these are wonders to
behold again and again.
there is a deep, mesmeric
beauty in all of it – a texture
and a unique history and a
gorgeousness in every step
or mile or parcel of land on
which you might have found
yourself, whether it be only
once ever, or dozens of
times, be they long or
short bouts studied,
deciphered, and then,
remembered, and I can’t
imagine a square inch
of it to which I would
not return, happily, to
take it all in once again,
to dive ever deeper within
(the great lakes, the creek
banks and riverbanks, the
ponds and the swimming
or fishing lakes that some
times seem to take up most
of whatever great state in which
which each is gloriously embed
ded). and while, for various harsh
reasons, I haven’t driven out of
this city for nearly a decade now
of the two and a half in which
I’ve called it home, and although
I lost, before my 50th year
had passed, every single
material item that I
’d
up to that point gathered,
deciding for some reason
or other not to let go, what a 
resounding privilege it has
nonetheless been to be 
variously transported
from pacific to atlantic
and back again, etc. the sum
of each and every moment
of every single mile traveled
has been the greatest
accumulation of blessings 
that I have beheld.
and I shall return,
I have no doubt,
to darken paths
new and old,
shall plot that
course again.
you can bet on that.
or that is, at least,
what I do, what
gets me to moving,
or wound up for that.

at home on the coast