The Post-Spring Break Narrative

Well Spring Break has come and gone, once again a fairly uneventful benchmark in the school year for me. I did take Thursday and Friday off, and spent the days reading and walking and dreaming. And doing laundry. I took a walk on Sunday in the early morning, too early for most respectable people to be out and about. The greenbelt that frames the biking trail, which is basically a glorified irrigation ditch, had a low-lying misty fog hovering above it like an ethereal blanket. Unfortunately I did not capture it in this photo. It was a tule fog really, and briefly transported me to the Middle Earth of Tolkien's fantasy, at least within my own imagination, and it lasted just as long as I could ignore the existence of tract housing framing either side of the trails. Early morning scenery, damp with mist and early morning dewdrops and full of the charm of mystery, certainly can inspire imaginations. And mine does tend to wander wild. And in the physical sense I wander often. Wanderlust, as the Germans might say.

Of course it may have been a contributing factor that this past weekend I watched the entire Hobbit, which is no small feat, being just shy of eight hours in length. So I found myself to be already predisposed into that mindset of fantasy and lush expansive landscapes. And it has been awhile since I did a movie marathon of sorts like that, and on the literary side I am complementing this by working my way through the entire Tolkien saga, starting with The Simarillon. Goals!

The Simarillon, incidentally, is a bit of a rough read. It's laden with names, names, and more names. From people to rivers to lands to mountains, the book throws a myriad of names at you. And everything and everyone has two or three names - a proper historical name, a modern name, other names that different races have used, and on and on. It's no exaggeration to say that hundreds of names get thrown at you...and sons and siblings often have similar names. Finwe and Finarfin and Fingolfin, oh my!

But anyways, on my walk this past Sunday I started drafting this post in my mind. My best writing is done on my walks, and unfortunately most of it is lost by the time I actually sit down to write. The material that actually gets written is a much more clumsy narrative. I suppose I should take a tip from the late Steve Allen and carry a tape recorder around with me, to record my sudden inspirations in real time. I could be a real profound writer if only I could just spread the content of my brain at will on the page. Like jelly on toast.

Perhaps I could be an author, a novelist even, if only I could find the material to write about that anyone would actually want to read.

I suppose I could write about my wanderlust.

But there's little time for that now, as this week it's back to work, whilst the parents have departed just today on a cruise to Hawaii. Good of them! It is fortunately not a particularly busy week, with only three concerts in four days (this Friday being a holiday, not directly for my birthday but might as well be). The calm before the storm is what it is, as April will bring 38 concerts in 28 days. Busy! I'm not looking forward to that. But it is what it is, and frankly it's not even usual for the first month of spring at Sac State. 

If I survive past this week, one more time, one more year, perhaps I'll write again.

Maybe next time I'll have a more cohesive and prepared narrative to share.

Nah, who am I fooling, it will be my usual pedantic ramblings.