Swirlytop

I don’t have much to say right now, tonight. Except that I feel a lot of that old hurricane season waiting for the next 24-48 hours. It could be disaster, and it could be simply some winds and rain and no biggie whatsoever. It could not even do that much – the storm could turn elsewhere entirely, or dissipate immediately upon landfall. They all have happened in my lifetime, and more than once. I guess that, in a way, growing up in such a place, I find myself calmly in the middle of the total and extreme fear and concern, and of, its polar opposite, utter chill and calm and unconcern – it shall pass. Because they always do pass. Like final exams, next week, they will be over and done with, but there is a huge hurdle to get through them to next week. And all we can do is just prepare and then wait.

As I was saying recently to someone, having grown up in southeast Texas, hurricane season, somehow, always gives me a sense of at-home-ness. I guess it is kind of how I felt so comfortable with all of the earthquakes in Japan, because they happened so often (weekly, was the average where I lived). In a way, they were representative of my home there. So, I have this odd sort of affinity for earthquakes now. (In fact, when still living in Japan, it am earthquake didn’t happen for a couple weeks, I would feel so out of sorts, it seemed nuts. When finally one happened again, I felt like I could breathe more easily, more freely again.) And I think the link between hurricanes and my childhood, being with my family through them (and through their aftermaths), has me feel this sense of homeyness and comfort around hurricane season now.

Also, I am rather fascinated with the powerful display of this planet’s abilities of power. Air and water, two things we need to be alive, are the exact things that can take away this life via a hurricane. Yet there is beauty in their power, both figuratively and literally.

Funny: I just realized that I even felt incredibly at-home when we had typhoons in Japan. Just like home, I suppose was the feeling. Haha. How odd this all is…, but that doesn’t make it so any less.

Over the next couple or few days, there is a potential of two hurricanes to pass this way. We shall see what happens, I pray.

P.S. While this has never happened in my lifetime, I think there has never in known history been two such storms developing in the Gulf of Mexico at the same time. She’s kind of a one-storm-at-a-time kind of Gulf. ;P

Post-a-day 2020

Speaking of mountains…

I brought my Mt. Fuji hiking stick to show my cousin (who’s in town(ish) briefly) and aunt and uncle, because I knew they could and would appreciate not only the accomplishment it represents, but also just how cool the stick itself is.

In showing my cousin the stick tonight, we got into questions about hiking mountains and the experiences tied to them.  The absolutely silly part of that particular mountain experience was the fact that, while at the top of the mountain, finally resting, we were told that we needed to rush off the mountain, because a typhoon (hurricane) was coming.  Cool.  So, that made for a hurried departure from the top, and inadequate preparations for the painful and long, bathroom-less and water-less descent.

On a similar note, my cousin had a time on a sacred mountain in India (that part is important), where he had his own troubles with water.  Because the mountain is sacred, you see, it is said that no shoes may go on the mountain – it must be hiked barefoot.  My cousin respected this declaration, though his companions did not.  He also discovered afterward that it apparently is rather common even for native Indians to wear shoes for the trek.  Oh, well… Anyway, so this mountain is rocky, and there isn’t exactly a clear and clean path to follow.  By the time they reached the summit, his feet were scorched, and needed a rest.  He had brought plenty of water (carrying at least two two-liter bottles in his pack, plus his regular water bottle, I believe.), so they were in no specific hurry to get back down the mountain.  So, he and his companions set down their gear to give their backs a rest, and walked around the summit a little bit.  When they returned to their bags, what did they find?  Well, they found monkeys… stealing, you guessed it, the waters.  Did the monkeys take other things, like food or small things?  No.  They took the water.  Kind of makes you want to laugh hysterically and punch a monkey at the same time, doesn’t it?  πŸ˜›

Just know: I really do love monkeys.  I just would want to punch almost anybody who stole all of my water in a situation like that, be it person, monkey, or zebra.  Fight or flight leans to fight in that circumstance for me, it seems.  πŸ˜›

Anyway, fun mountain stories, huh?

Post-a-day 2018