Adiós Summer 2018! Although many of you have gone back to work, school, home, vacations from OC, the Mother’s crew will be here year round, 7 days a week, from noon till 2am, waiting to fill you back up with fresh Tex-Mex specials and strong margaritas. Second season, here we come! . . . #secondseason #preppingfor2019 #touristtown #paintingseason #tensummers #oceancitymaryland #smalltownlife #adiosverano #goodbyesummer #summer2018 #tillnextyear #keepingitfresh #freshfood #seasonalvegetables #offseason #soupseason #motherscantina #brunch (at Mother's Cantina) https://www.instagram.com/p/BnWr49nntAP/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=o1t29vzq4zv9
Packing then heading to bed. In just eight hours, I'll be thirty miles out of Boston, looking back from an outcrop, once an encampment to Native Americans. Tomorrow marks the official start of Ten Summers. Solstice strikes at 7pm. I'll see you on the other side.
Rich.
I can hear great shimmering sounds swell in the distance. I can hear it spreading, as a great white mist, it crowns the tallest trees and swings down into the streets nearby. I run to my window and shove my head out into the wind. I close my eyes, bite my lip, and lean. I wait for the mist to lift me up and carry me out my window. My cheeks twitch in anticipation of a cold brush dragged across my face. I inhale a wisp of dry air and smile. But something's not right. The music stopped.
I open my eyes I realize there isn't any mist. I could have sworn it was there. None of it made any sense to me, yet I was forced to confront reality. Nothing but the roar now, cars barreling down the freeway, others dancing in the grid, and all making a big ruckus. For a brief moment, I felt like I escaped. I pulled out my headphones and unpluged them from my now dead ipod. Where was I just then, If here I am now?
It's surprising for sure, and certainly conflicting. I sit down on my couch and stare at my computer. I think about how I love her. I look away, but the time we waste together. I'm thinking out loud now. It's so strange to hear my voice. So much sensation in the tiniest of moments. I remark on how I am sitting, in this moment, who I am now, as never before. But all I know is where I've been. These destinations unfold on repeat in my head - cycling images interrupted by moments few. Yet, the less they occur the more profound they feel.
I realize then, as I did just now, as I have many times before, that I am more. I may be compelled to escape out my window, to free myself from whatever trap I've drawn, but I'd still be running. I'm too young to reach paradise now, and how weak the beach could make me. Humility is my greatest ally, for when I'm stripped from the music, I am forced to consider where I really am. Beneath the mist, there's a mountain, a monument of limitless potential.
I stand up quick and look back out the window. I take a moment to breathe. Suddenly, the roar softens. How curious. I lean out the window further to look down the street. The cars still zip, the people bustle. A gust of wind flies above my head. I cast my head around as the great scarlet oak rustles to my right. A group of sparrows lift away with the wind and swim towards the hills in the distance. I can see the tallest trees tear across the skyline. It hits me. It's alive.
I sprint out of the house and hop on my bike. I can't escape, I think to myself, but I can awake. I push down on the pedals and rush after the birds as fast as I can. I don't know what I am going to find, what I'll see, or even how I'll feel when I get there.
And I love not knowing.
Hello strangers. I am about to launch the most important project of my life. If you're reading this, it's because you have either previously followed me or I have shared with you the link. Ten Summers has hijacked my old blog. I wanted to break the ice with a few words, get the blood pumping through my head. I am convinced you will enjoy what Is about to unfold. The project, and this blog, does not officially launch for another week, June 20th. If your curious, I'll be releasing more posts very soon.
Stay fascinated,
Rich.
