Journey vs. Destination

This morning, as I walked up, the nice lady at Fairfield Inn check in counter said, “Good morning!”

Me: “Hello, I want to go for a walk before I get back in the car, is it ok to wander around that field out back?”

NLAFICIC: “Oh yes, no problem at all.” (This statement had some unidentifiable accent.) (No, no, I’m sure it was her who had an accent, not me. What do you mean, I’m the foreigner here?)

Me (smiling): “Excellent. In California, wandering around can mean rattlesnake but it looks too wet out there for them.” (In fact, it looked like ten football fields, all strewn about haphazardly.)

NL: “Oh no, the worst you’ll see out there is a field mouse or two.”

We laughed and I went off for a walk.

I didn’t see the promised field mouse. If I had, I would have squeaked loudly and, then, if that didn’t scare it away, tried to take its picture. I don’t know why I would have screeched, something about creatures startling me. But maybe I wouldn’t have. We’ll never know now.

Oklahoma City is, as the song notes, mighty pretty. There is green everywhere atop that beautiful red soil. And walking in a field means that every step releases a cloud of winged creatures that fly up for a second and settle back down. As the butterfly or cricket or whatever landed, I’d see a new plant. It looked like grass from far away, but up close, there were weeds of all varieties. And if those are Oklahomian dandelions, with their adorable daisy shaped heads, then I’m jealous.

And then I turned my ankle. The field looked like a football field but it is actually rough under the mowed seemingly flat grass. But I didn’t get hurt so I wandered on, being more careful to watch where I was stepping.

The wind blows a lot here. It is a physical force, pushing me one way and another. It makes the clouds incredible. As I looked back at the hotel, I worried a bit about the weather we’ll see today. Yesterday was so warm and clear, like a California September, I admit to whining a bit. I don’t want to see a tornado or anything but we almost never see lightning at home. As I walked and watched, the clouds went from small to towering to small again.

And then I turned my ankle, rejoiced it wasn’t injured and then swore to myself to watch were I was walking. The ground was very pretty. I came across a river-let. There is so much water here. And that red soil again, it makes the mud pretty. There is so much water here. It is just everywhere. And the everything is surrounded by grass with no sidewalks at all, no one must walk anywhere. That is odd, it is so pretty but lots of things are different.

Including the bird calls. The birds here are different. I think that must be a long tailed swallow, it had a very long tail, a strange shape to me, nothing like the birds in Californis. And that little black bird says something different than it does at home, more of a chickchick than a peeppeep. Dialects are so funny.

Argh, this time I twisted my knee. Maybe I should tell the nice lady at the counter that the field is quite dangerous indeed. I’m ok but had to switch to blacktop.