daydreams

I find myself more frequently staring off into oblivion, as Myriam or whomever I am flying with is at the controls, daydreaming excessively. I’ve had incredibly vivid memories and imaginings of food, places and people, the things I miss most about home. Last week during all the security concerns, during all the evacuations and chaos, after the airplane would level off in the cooler, more peaceful, thin air at 10,000 feet and all souls on board seemed to exhale a collective sigh of relief, my mind would drift. With my left temple leaned against the plexi-glass window and the African sun scorching my shaved head I’d suddenly be standing in my favorite pool on the Animas River waving my fly-rod around meditatively watching the trout rise on a summer afternoon’s Cadis hatch. The fluttering clouds of Cadis flies sparkling as a million wings reflected the setting sun’s warm glow. Then I would be sitting with a massive chicken burrito smothered in melted cheese, guacamole and sour cream, a basket of chips and salsa and margarita nearby, or hiking with Jen along a branch of the idyllic San Juan River towards the peaceful Rainbow hot springs, as a light mist fell. Sleeping in the back of a pickup truck in Oregon’s high eastern plains alongside a bubbling river listening to lonely coyotes sing in the distance, or at a table 15 years ago with a dinner plate heaped high with my Dad’s famous spaghetti and my little brothers head covered in marinara sauce opposite from my seat across the table. Chaos below, Abeche ahead, grateful passengers behind, Mexican food, trout and rivers within. If nothing else, Chad has made me realize that it’s the little things in life that make it beautiful.