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Monday, August 24, 2015

FEELIN TATTERED

I left the Blue Ridge Parkway two days ago to return home and the strangest sensations and feelings came over me as I drove down off the mountain.  
I felt as though I had lost a best friend and the further I rode from the parkway the more intense the feeling became.  I think it was the prospect of leaving the magic of a fairy book place that instigated the feelings or maybe the parkway was a get away from the problems and pressures experienced in the cultural enriched town of Jefferson City.  I don't know for sure.  But my mind wandered as the bike surfed down the curvy mountain road that headed toward Hot Springs, NC.
I thought about strange things and emotional issues.  I always have done this when on a motorcycle.  Weeks and weeks on the bike motoring through and around the west back in the seventies was the same thing.  Always thinking.  A motorcycle offers no distractions to the creativity of the mind --- that is if one is experienced enough to allow the wheels to roll unhindered, directed only by mental energy. Mental energy - I have a lot of that.  I might note here that mental energy and intelligence are not the same.   But, my mind  wandered over the Douglas file and it stopped just past the file box, hesitated and backed up to open the file drawer.
It was a mistake I knew.  For some reason it felt wrong leaving the Blue Ridge Parkway and the beautiful Nirvana that existed there to re enter the chaos and ridiculous daily struggle of Jefferson city.  I know Jefferson city is a personal quandary but still it sits uneasy on my soul.  I wanted to turn around and return to that magic ribbon that skirts the top of the Blue Ridge Mountains.  I missed Shade. I missed Happy and I missed Chestnut.  And I missed----.  And so, I kept the wheels rolling south but, my mind settled on memories of him.  Him - my  little boy.  I've never let go of him and I am so thankful that I've held on to his ashes, that which is left of him that still fills me with joy when I hold the little box that contains him.
That pretty golden face soft as cotton that feels so delicate on my cheek.
That day he was clipped and his innocent face was magnified in my heart.








Douglas was part of me.  He was my shadow who followed behind as well as my destination, and I found comfort in his presence.  I talked to him and I listened to his silent replies to my questions.  My decisions about what to do were greatly influenced on the results these conversations.







 I guarded him and watched every breath he took to assure it was safe.
 And a drunk 18 year old brat took his life in an instant.  But, that's another story.  That young man is very fortunate that I had my hands full at the moment......


The bike wound down the side of the mountain and I felt a loss that I couldn't explain.  I was drifting away from a magic world and willingly re entering a chaotic, nonsense place.  I guess my minds eye searched for sanity and that sanity was Douglas.  I felt sorrow and the sorrow was reinforced with tears as I thought of him.

 The place was Slick Rock Creek on Calderwood Lake.  Douglas was part of that place.



 He was a patient dog, waiting till the canoe beached, waiting till I told him get out.  He was a great allie against all that was pressure in this world.




 There's my boy in his post card pose.  Look at him how beautiful!


 He chased this little white duck every Saturday at Melton Hill Dam.  I think that duck waited until we arrived just to tempt Douglas.
 Look at this beautiful son of mine.  Powerful, young, golden and full of life.











 He swims in the icy cold water of Slick Rock Creek and is full of life and is enriched by his surroundings.  Thats my boy.  That is Douglas, the dog of the lakes and the son of nature.
 He's my son
 Above:  we climbed the mountain and he waited almost on top for me.
 A happy little boy! 





  1.  And Shade complimented Douglas's power.


 Douglas was a ballerina in the forest and in the water.  Shade was a wrecking ball and an unaccomplished dancer in nature.  But dedication-----there is none better than Shade.  She would run across broken, hot glass just to stand at my side.
 Below:  Calderwood Lake


 Douglas and a very young Homer.
 They loved each other.
 What a great friend!

 He's gone over a brat, drunk 18 year old kid on 4th of July.  

 My sweet baby. I can't let go.  Just cant.  I keep his ashes near where I can hold the pretty box close to me.  I'll let him go eventually but not anywhere near this place.  


 I miss you my son.  And then, there is Clarissa.  I wish you the finest life has to offer darlin.  
 Its just one of them nights.

And, I'll hold you in my heart son until we can walk along the spine of the mountains together and revel in the life we once shared.  I love you Douglas.