nightwalk
I just had one of the creepiest and most beautiful walks outside. Now that I've been evicted from my normal employee housing, I've been relocated to a different area of the property that is completely lacking in wireless internet. ergo, in order to check my email and various online needs, i decided to go for a walk back to the lodge (where i usually check said needs), if not back to Browntown (employee housing's nickname) to see if the rec room (where i posted my last entry) was left open. Unfortunately, not only was the lodge locked but the surrounding area had become a desolate, misty, dreamlike pitch-dark. if i didn't have my mp3 player with me, i'd have sworn i was asleep and dreaming everything around me. i'm used to walking home in the dark by myself from the lodge after closing up the bar, but this time it felt more alone. probably the most alone i've ever felt while i'm up here. all that separated me from the darkness was a set of street lamps illuminating the road leading away from the lodge, which only made the fog and dark more Silent Hillesque. a part of me is terrified, yet at the same time another part of me loves this new surrounding. i don't know why, but i decide after creeping around the lodge looking for an open door or window that walking back to browntown (roughly 1/2 mile from the lodge) even if the rec room wasn't locked would be ok. after all, the worst that could happen is a bear attacks me, and that already happened once in july. would lightning dare strike twice in one summer? i hoped not.
so i set an appropriate soundtrack to help the mood switch from slightly paranoid to serene (all thanks to Feist) and made the trek down the copper-lit path. i stopped a few times just to look around me, realizing that it was just me and nature. the very few people left on property were either sleeping in the RV park or up in the area i was relocated to, watching SNL. i was truly by myself. normally, the walk down the road back to Browntown is my nightly catharsis after a hectic day at work, and pretty often the time for me to talk out my entire day, piece by piece to commit it to some part of my subconscious, if anything. this time, it wasn't about cleansing my frustrated mind...it was to simply enjoy my place in the world. walking through an abandoned Browntown was so weird, as i'm used to seeing people smoking on the deck next to laundry, drinking at the picnic tables, or even hanging out outside Kirk & Megan's or Kevin & Megan's doing any of the above. i checked the lower rec room, and to no surprise it was locked. no internet. my first response was "dammit", but immediately changed to "holy shit i can see the stars right here" (where i was earlier was bathed in fog, so it was nothing but the dreamcloud when looking above). a part of me was half expecting to see the Northern Lights for the first time ever, but no luck. i did get to see a few constellations, notably the Big Dipper which is where Alaska gets its stars from on the state flag. the best part of the entire trip was stopping at the crossroad between Browntown, the RV park, and the road leading to the lodge. staring up at the stars. seeing and hearing my breath as i stared mutely above and around. noticing what my heartbeat sounds and feels like in sync with an Alaskan midnight and its nocturnal nature. just one of those moments in life where i stop, take a deep breath, and think to myself "never forget this. not for one minute."
i know that one day my conscious mind will forget, but it will be etched into my brain/subconscious in some remote region for a lifetime.
after that breath, it was time to move on.
Feist - "the park" will always remind me of this nightwalk, as it timed appropriately from when i left my stargazing point and lasted all the way back to the first step into my new room. small coincidences like that are a part of what life is all about, i swear.
now that i look back on this, i feel there's no way to give my nightwalk the justice it deserves. after all, i can't convey what i just experienced in the appropriate detail. so it's ok if you readers don't feel any connection or emotion from this post, honest. this is moreorless one of my posts that is just for me, but doubles for others as a free look into all that is yohe. before i leave here, I have at least one other nightwalk planned, with one song in particular that needs to be heard from a specific location. i may write it down, or i may not. we'll see. til then, adios.
rock on,
-yohe
so i set an appropriate soundtrack to help the mood switch from slightly paranoid to serene (all thanks to Feist) and made the trek down the copper-lit path. i stopped a few times just to look around me, realizing that it was just me and nature. the very few people left on property were either sleeping in the RV park or up in the area i was relocated to, watching SNL. i was truly by myself. normally, the walk down the road back to Browntown is my nightly catharsis after a hectic day at work, and pretty often the time for me to talk out my entire day, piece by piece to commit it to some part of my subconscious, if anything. this time, it wasn't about cleansing my frustrated mind...it was to simply enjoy my place in the world. walking through an abandoned Browntown was so weird, as i'm used to seeing people smoking on the deck next to laundry, drinking at the picnic tables, or even hanging out outside Kirk & Megan's or Kevin & Megan's doing any of the above. i checked the lower rec room, and to no surprise it was locked. no internet. my first response was "dammit", but immediately changed to "holy shit i can see the stars right here" (where i was earlier was bathed in fog, so it was nothing but the dreamcloud when looking above). a part of me was half expecting to see the Northern Lights for the first time ever, but no luck. i did get to see a few constellations, notably the Big Dipper which is where Alaska gets its stars from on the state flag. the best part of the entire trip was stopping at the crossroad between Browntown, the RV park, and the road leading to the lodge. staring up at the stars. seeing and hearing my breath as i stared mutely above and around. noticing what my heartbeat sounds and feels like in sync with an Alaskan midnight and its nocturnal nature. just one of those moments in life where i stop, take a deep breath, and think to myself "never forget this. not for one minute."
i know that one day my conscious mind will forget, but it will be etched into my brain/subconscious in some remote region for a lifetime.
after that breath, it was time to move on.
Feist - "the park" will always remind me of this nightwalk, as it timed appropriately from when i left my stargazing point and lasted all the way back to the first step into my new room. small coincidences like that are a part of what life is all about, i swear.
now that i look back on this, i feel there's no way to give my nightwalk the justice it deserves. after all, i can't convey what i just experienced in the appropriate detail. so it's ok if you readers don't feel any connection or emotion from this post, honest. this is moreorless one of my posts that is just for me, but doubles for others as a free look into all that is yohe. before i leave here, I have at least one other nightwalk planned, with one song in particular that needs to be heard from a specific location. i may write it down, or i may not. we'll see. til then, adios.
rock on,
-yohe