Adventures with Pandora

  This past week was my mother Pandora's vacation week. As much as she wanted to get something done around the house, she also wanted to go out of town. My father Ilan tried to take her out to a casino, but that was temporary; I knew that, and so did she. She hoped I would have a day to go up with her to the mountains. Sadly, a new summer schedule limited my time at home to only being able to sleep and eat, with little time to do much else. I could see the sadness in her face as I stumbled home and crashed into bed, only to wake up for food or something odd to drink.

  By some strange miracle, I was given Friday off. The moment Pandora found out, she suggested a trip to San Isabel National Forest. I agreed and was very happy to go to the store to get some lunch before we found the road under her wheels and the windows open to the mountain air. The scent of strawberries mingled with the breeze. I couldn't help but feel the weights of city life fall off as we crossed into the mountains. It was amazing to finally feel like all I had to do was enjoy the nature around me. I looked to my mom as she drove and I could tell that she was feeling something fairly similar.

  We got our day pass and parked in the usual parking lot in our usual parking place (or, at least, it felt that way). We stepped out of the car and into the warm, humid mountain air. I was glad to get here when we did; the weather showed a fair share of clouds and sunshine, and the lake was breezing when not tempered by paddle boats or a stray fishing line. Pandora and I grabbed lunch and water and headed to a small picnic spot hidden in a patch of aspen and pine trees. The tree just to our left looked electrocuted yet still strong in its roots. We sat at the picnic bench and split the strawberries. I munched on my salad as she talked to me in between bites of sandwich. "Hey Ani, what do you think of that lark bunting in the tree?" I glanced up at the tree she pointed to and saw the bird: Black against the sun's light, but it's spread wings were more like glass than feathers. I chuckled and looked down to the strawberries. "It looks like it smells our food. Especially the strawberries." I answered before I stabbed a few more salad pieces. Pandora continued to munch on her sandwich and kept a close eye on the bird. A minute later, it flew over our heads and into the electrocuted tree. We exchanged glances of amusement and ate the strawberries. It watched from the branch as we finished our lunch, eating every bite we could. We tossed what we didn't eat of the strawberries into the grass and dirt, giving our little companions a little treat. 

  A quick pack of our trash and throwing it away before we walked to the first of three bridges we passed on our traditional walk through the area. I caught a glimpse of a small bench on our path, just sitting at top of the stream. It looked like a great place to sit and enjoy the stream while feeling like you were in a more urban part of the world. I took a picture of it as Pandora walked on to find the second bridge. I hoped to return to this spot in more picture-perfect clothes and get a nice picture of me at some point. Not the t-shirt and jeans I was wearing right now. 

  I caught up to Pandora soon enough. Thankfully, she was swallowed in thoughts among the trees and the water. The stream snaked by us as we crossed over the first and followed one of countless trails that led to the second. "Do you remember where your special rock is, Ani?" Pandora asked as we reached a spot to rest. I thought about our last trip up here. I vaguely recalled a perch of a rock where I sat around this time a couple of years back. It was when I had a more colorful notebook with an equally colorful pen to jot down notes and stories. At that moment, sadly, I could not recall which rock was my rock. "I don't remember, mom." I answered finally, "I think it was between this bridge and the third one. Probably somewhere in the middle."

  "I thought it was closer to this bridge." She said. 

  "I swore it was in the middle. But don't quote me on that. I don't remember that well." I chuckled. 

  She chuckled back and stood to shake off some of the dirt on her before we finished up our little bridge trail. We found ourselves crossing the third bridge and toward the road to the campgrounds beyond the stream. She and I chatted as we walked between dirt and concrete about a few different things: life, the universe, my father Ilan, the dog. We passed analogies and metaphors about life back and forth, each finding some interesting thought in the other.

  We turned back around and crossed the bridges again, this time crossing over to the other side of the stream that we hadn't trekked up. Pandora seemed nervous about this. "What's wrong? Not feeling the call of adventure and challenge?" I laughed as I supported her as we tread the side of a few hills.

  "I haven't tried to cross the upcoming rocks in at least a decade." Pandora told me. "I'll be surprised if we make it up and around these monsters." 

  I looked up to see the monster rocks. They weren't as big as I thought -they were about as tall as I was, and definitely wide for its height- so I wasn't about to let them conquer my sudden rush of energy. I helped Pandora up and down the rocks just as she spotted a special site. "Look! Ani! It's your rock!" I glanced at her pointed finger indicating something on the other side of the stream, then toward the rock she was pointing to. Granted, it looked pretty familiar: a medium-sized rock with a gentle slope and about half of it in the water. I nodded. It really did look like my rock; my problem was in the lack of memory I had of it. This didn't seem to bother me as much as it did Pandora when I told her that I wasn't sure about it. "I'm sure it's your rock. I was sitting on the one behind you while you wrote." She pointed to the rock to the right of it. It looked as familiar as the other pairs off rocks we passed between the three bridges. I shrugged and told her that. All she did was roll her eyes and gave the sigh of a mother lugging a five-year-old around a furniture store. "Look, mom, I barely remember the rock, or where it was. As long as we find a spot for me to sit for a while and write, I'll be fine." 

  We crossed the second bridge and ended up at those rocks. She waited for me to get comfortable on the rock before she told me she was going for a walk. She set her stuff next to my now-empty bag, water bottle, and light coat. I nodded and stared out into the water for a bit. The stuff was all within arm's reach of me, just resting against a stump on the edge of the stream. Nothing was getting wet, nothing was getting stolen. She took off with nothing but her coat and hat on her body, going back upward toward the trail. I waited to make sure I could see her take off just out of sight, then focused my attention on the water. I wrote down a few thoughts and finished up a story I was writing for my blog (this one, actually) just as she returned. I looked over and smiled as she sat to my right and dipped her feet in the water. "Oh! The water is ice cold! It must be from all the snow melting."

  "It can't be that cold." I rolled my eyes jokingly. 

  Apparently, she didn't see my sarcasm. "It seriously is! Come take your socks and shoes off so you can feel it." 

  I laughed and did as she requested. I tossed my notebook onto the dirt just behind the tree toward the path. Pandora shifted it to make sure it didn't fall into the water. I slid a little down the rock and took my shoes off first, then socks. As I slid off the rock into the water, the cold gave my feet a nice wave of relief and refreshment. I wanted to slip into it entirely, but I knew it would not make Pandora nor her car happy to have a wet daughter on the way home. She asked me something I couldn't hear well. When I didn't answer because I was enjoying the balance between the warmth of the sun and the cold of the stream, she waited. I finally stepped out and sat on the stump. "Sorry, you were asking me something?"

  "I was asking you what time it was. Your dad is going to be worried about us if we stay up here too long."

  I put my socks and shoes on, then hopped back onto the path. When I knew I was a safe distance from the water, I pulled out my phone and checked. "About 2:00 pm, give or take five minutes."

  "Oh good! We have time! I wanted to show you something interesting I found." She motioned with her head for me to follow, so I did. 

  "While I was walking around, I came across this section of the stream. I decided to observe it and really take it in. The stream was fine coursing around the left side of a giant rock. It reminded me of the Mainstream, being forced to follow the current of the times and obsessing over the next big thing. Then I saw a pool of water just behind the giant rock that was relatively calm compared to the main stream. Some water still lapped in, but it didn't stay there. And in that pool is a rock covered with the brightest green algae-seaweed stuff that waved gently in the water, as if waving to the water in the stream. That rock reminded me of you and the way you live your life. It -you- seemed to say, 'Hi you idiots! Have fun in the Mainstream! I'm gonna sit here in my peace and content while you idiots obsess over nothing.' There it is. What do you think?"

  I stepped into the pool a little bit and took a picture. I admired the little scene around me. My mom made a valid point. I often felt like that due to my past, and it really struck me as something I could admire and laugh about in the future. I walked away while looking at the rock and the water again, taking in as much of the symbolism and the beauty as possible. We then talked about what my sister Antoinette and my father would be. Pandora took a look around and pointed out a different section of pool with a heart-shaped rock as my sister, and a tree trying to jut out into the stream and gather objects as a joking analogy for my dad. As we reached the first bridge, I asked her what she would be. She didn't hesitate to say, "I am like a bridge. I am not a part of the Mainstream, but I bridge it so that my children and grandchildren - and now great-grandchildren - can cross over with strength and courage to move beyond what the Mainstream says."

  The journey down the mountain and back into town was full of conversation about the Mainstream and the lessons Pandora taught my sister and I about it. Pandora seemed happy to know that her lessons and experience was working to our benefit. She reminded me of how much she loved me and how she hoped I could find what I needed in life to be content.  I nodded and stared out toward the storm that had been following us since we left. "We are bringing the rain with  us." I joked. 

  "It seems we are. In more ways than one." Pandora laughed. 

~

“True happiness is to enjoy the present, without anxious dependence upon the future, not to amuse ourselves with either hopes or fears but to rest satisfied with what we have, for he that is so wants nothing.” -Seneca

(via Daily Stoic)