There is a line in Steinbeck's "Chrysanthemums" that says, "It was a time of quiet and waiting." That is the time I am living now. That story was set in the Salinas Valley out near where Q lives. If you have ever been there, you know that quiet. There is an emptiness to it, a vast space waiting to be filled. That is how I feel about the photos I've been taking. They are stage settings without actors. The audience watches and waits.
As I will today for the washer repairman. I don't want to try to fix the washer myself. I've watched about twenty videos and am not sure if my washer has a belt or not, not sure if I must take apart the chassis or not. I found a new washer like mine online on sale at the same place I bought this one. I called to have it delivered as it was probably not going to cost much more than the repair will. It wasn't in stock, I was told. How long would it take to get one, I asked? They were out of stock at the manufacturers warehouse, he said. Production was slowed due to Covid. Three months, maybe. Maybe longer.
Hence the repairman.
I have had to wait a week from the time I called for this repair day to arrive. This may be his "first visit." It depends on what he finds, on what parts he has or needs.
A time of quiet and waiting.
I said "his" in referring to the repairman. It may be a repair person, a "they" or a "her." I still get stuck in the bad old world. Anyone should be allowed to do whatever they want. That used to be a mixed construction, using the singular and the plural pronouns to refer to the same subject. Not any more. "They" is now an acceptable way to refer to one.
I wish "they" had done that sooner. Grammar has gotten much easier. Most of the things that once were considered "wrong" are now referred to as "common usage."
Yo.
I strained or tore another tendon running on the exercise course yesterday. This is a strange one on the outer side of my lower left calf. It felt like something got caught and then clicked just before my foot hit the trail. The strain was immediate, and because I have had so much practice in hurting myself, I knew not to take another step. I stopped right away.
Now I cannot walk. Rather, I should say it is painful to walk. I can hobble around the house, but walking long distances is not possible at the moment. This should heal quickly as I did not try to continue running and did not make it worse. But I will not be out on long strolls making pictures for a few days .
To wit, as I have mentioned, I have not been feeling well of late. I have had vertigo that won't disappear. I feel tired all the time and sleep more hours than I should. I've had some other complications, too, that keep my off my game, so last night, I took an Advil PM before bed. The instructions say take two, but I take one and it knocks me out. I slept nine hours last night, and that is after a two hour afternoon nap. I am still muzzy this morning.
I am a drug wimp.
My car is in disrepair, too. I hit the brakes the other day and they didn't want to stop the car. I checked the brake fluid, but that is fine. It sounds like there is air in the brake lines. I will have to take the car into the shop. Fine, but how will I get home? And how will I get back? I don't want to Uber in a Covid-19 car. The shop is not so far from my house, really. I actually would be fine walking the distance, I think, if my leg heals quickly. And now that I have written the idea, that is what I will probably do.
Probably will do. That construction is still considered incorrect. Harrumph.
I got a pretty good yield of photos from my Saturday walk. Not masterpieces, but nothing to be ashamed about. I will have to use them here until I am whole again.
In the meantime. . . it is a time of quiet and waiting.
ReplyDeleteOn safari, you'll find two types of participants.
There are those that by the end of day one - have seen enough elephants or lions or zebra. They complain about the rough rides - the long rides - just sitting in the truck waiting for the potential to see a kill (sometimes upwards of 2 hours - totally worth it) - the heat - the sometimes flies.
Our groups - consisted of word of mouth invitees - only friends of friends or family. We created our own tours - both times. And there's bound to be at least one "I don't really get safari" person who takes the plunge and does it.
And that's fine - if you aren't that into it - hell I don't care if someone doesn't want to catch the rare glimpse of a mother cheetah and her 5 babies - or an ardwolf, etc.
Then there are the Others. The crazies who don't/won't miss any opportunity to get in that truck and get into the bush. Day Night Heat of the Day just get me there.
You bond quickly - and get to know your people.
One morning the three of us got into the jeep at 5AM - this was in Southern Tanzania -Ruaha National Park - it is huge and hardly anyone goes there.
Nat Geo was there and I had a huge crush on the photographer. He had long hair and a feather tied into it and wore great comfortable linen clothing. I saw him in the airport in Amsterdam. He was a delicious fantasy.
Hamza and Said knew him and actually helped him with some spotting - he was using a drone at that time - flying over the dry Ruaha river bed. There was a nursing lioness with three babies - and probably her sister with 4 that were a bit older who set up camp near the little bit of water there was to be found. We weren't supposed to be as close as we were but the lions didn't care. We watched and laughed at the babies tumbling and pretending to stalk. It even delighted Hamza & Said who were out there all the time. Hamza's laugh and comments just broke us up.
I can still feel the roars in my chest if I just go there in my head. Lions like the shade of the truck and will often lay down right next to you. You forget they are truly wild.
Until something upsets or disrupts them and they make a sound that feels like a violent death must sound. Oh.
I would live it again and again and again if I could.
I do tend to love Beverly & Derek Jaubert's photography better tho- they actually live out in the bush.
One day they were walking through their camp (they are based in Botswana - more a water safari area - but the lions have massive muscles cause they need to swim).
Beverly nearly died after being attacked by a cape buffalo. I sort of love the whole thing of them.
Oooopsers. Side tracked.
Anyways.
ReplyDeleteWe had seen amazing things of course - you just do. We had great guides. George my friend up North and Hamza and Said in Ruaha.
I had been nagging Hamza about the wild dogs. I hadn't seen any in either trip. I wanted to check it off my list. Bad.
At dinner the night before our last day - there was talk about sightings of the wild dog deep in the park.
Even though we had to get out of dodge by 2 in the afternoon. I begged and pleaded for one last chance to go out and see if we could find them.
So the morning of departure, me, my kid, and Dave the husband of my friend who put together these trips, Hamza and Said loaded up at 5am
Most had to stay back to "organize their suitcases for the trip home."
WTF. Who does that?
We were only allowed 13 pounds. I left everything behind except the clothes I needed to get from Tanzania home - I booked my layover in Amsterdam on the way over and flew straight back (with just a stopover) on the way home. The guys were going to donate the stuff to the villagers nearby. Sure I probably wasn't the sweetest smelling babe on the plane but whatevs. I did that both times.
It's truly something to be sitting there looking in one direction hoping - squinting your eyes - thinking you might see the elusive sight and suddenly have a huge tusker practically in the car with you. Elephants who are not munching on plants are the quietest giants. They can actually sneak up on you.
We drove - drove through an area known for tsetse flies - covering our heads and mouths with cloths. I had my Maasai cloth purchased on the previous trip. I watched George use his for everything - from a blanket in the morning when it is still cool - to a head wrap - skirt wrap - a place to sit for lunch.
How I miss him.
We hung out of the jeep as Hamza drove - trying to see tracks - all of us. We could now recognize lions, elephants, duma, twigas prints.
Said saw something that looked positive. So we parked the truck and sat. Said told stories about his father who was a ranger also - during years when poaching was rampant and how he almost got killed and did see friends get killed. About black mamba snakes getting up under trucks. About a leopard who once jumped in a truck with a very freaked out German family aboard.
I wish I recorded those moments.
We sat there for what I felt was at least - over an hour - waiting - cause dammit there was hope in those fresh paw prints in the sand. I mean we moved here and there but basically stayed put in two areas.
Kudus - with their beautiful giant pink shell ears and twirling horns were shadowy and shy in the forest. They are known as the ghosts of the forest. Eventually though - they crossed our path. As did a leopardess - plenty of gazelle. Plenty of elephants.
Hamza is a big birder - and would point out a fish Eagles or a "bustard" and we would make him say it over and over and just laughed how his accent made it sound.
When Hamza said "Guys it's not going to happen this time - we've got to get you back to camp and off to Dar" I looked at my phone and saw the time. We had been driving and sitting out there for nearly 5 hours.
Never seeing the "thing" we so desperately wanted to see. Sure there is a tiny bit of stupid white privilege disappointment. Going home "undogged."
But as I ponder the experience, I think about how much more the five of us experienced while sitting there - sharing stories and waiting.
That's my story for the night.
ReplyDeleteOh I'm a bad writer. I should have included we all said "next time we will them."
Until then. x
i'm skeered. Q might be secretly grading.
ReplyDeleteNotes for future editing (as if).
"next time we will SEE them". duh. it's late - i have a bit of sunstroke.
ADD: that our voices are low. we are talking and laughing in safari/quiet voices - it does not take away it adds to the rising sun in the bush - still cool mood.
tell more of Hamza's & Said's stories. the segue is too quick.
I just remembered something important - Hamza talked for the cubs - that is why we laughed. Sweet guys know how to do that shit.
Oh the whole thing could be like 800% percent or more better. I just wrote it straight out.
I don't want to get an "F." but i fear it is inevitable. I don't punkshewate either.
Sigh.
I *heart* Africa.
until w
Q will let you know. He is a great zoologist and African explorer. There is nothing he loves better than correcting tourist's observations.
Delete