SOMEWHERE OUTSIDE SIDNEY OHIO

In the almost 14 months since our marriage, our lives have taken us to what for us are some pretty extraordinary places. We’ve spent two unbelievable months in Italy and another month in the grand city of London. We’ve taken our little Ford Ranger to places all up and down the eastern seaboard from Rockport Maine to both coasts of Florida and back to Ohio. Inserted in those travels was a flight as far West as one can go without getting wet in the Pacific. (Well, I guess we even went a bit further. We got wet up to our ankles in the Pacific.) And now where are we? Somewhere about 4 miles outside of the small town of Sidney, Ohio. There are only about four or five other houses in sight and the big news of the day is a sighting of a buck running across the road while I was walking the dog or the change in the field across the road after the corn has been cut and the stalks leveled.

Speaking of the dog. His name is Pup Chik. I’m not sure of the spelling of his name, but I know it means: “Little Pup” in Russian. He’s a big part of the reason we are here for five weeks or so. His “parents” are out wandering and we are tending to the farm and to Pup Chik. He’s grown to be a part of our list of cherished friends. How to describe him. He’s no spring chik, that’s for sure. But neither is he a candidate for the canine geriatric ward. He’s a musician of sorts. Loves to sing! When the right musical tones reach his ear, he breaks out into the most vigorous and sustained, if not exactly harmonious, howl. He loves to sleep in the living room sun and eat his ¾ cup of food three times daily. And walk! He loves to take walks and so we do – once in the morning and once in the final moments of the evening sun. He’s been a perfect teacher in the ongoing discussions my wife and I have on how our own lives are or are not productive and meaningful.

When we walk up and down these peaceable country roads, he is always with us at the end of his leather leash. He’s apt to go the distance between two telephone poles just proudly directing us from up ahead, happy to be in charge. Then, without notice, he pounces into the side grass and eagerly spends the next few minutes rooting around, parting the grass with his nose, tail reflecting the intensity of this search of his. I’ve never seen whatever it is he is pursuing. Again he will interrupt the forward pace because his nose has informed him that there is something unusual and uncataloged in the air. He’ll strain at the leash and press in the direction of the scent. Maybe the invisible trail will lead to some other animal’s droppings, or just along a path that some creature must have traveled a short time ago. I wish these excursions (that seem like detours to me) would always lead to something that I could identify as a logical and rational reason for the time spent, but more often than not, they don’t. I’ve been known to become impatient with what seems so irrational from my wise, seasoned, and educated perspective. I pull on his leash. “What’s the matter with you Pup Chik? There’s nothing here! Give it up and come on!” And then this morning it hit me. As incomprehensible as it seems to me, he’s just doing his work. He’s doing what he is called to do and what he is designed to do. It makes no difference if I don’t understand. It doesn’t matter a wit that grown adult humans scoff at him. He’s being faithful to who he is, this teacher of mine and that is all that matters.

CALIFORNIA

DON: Iwish I knew how to sum up my experience of these past 8 days in and around the Los Angeles area of California. I suppose the best and easiest place to start is to say that our time here with Mary Ann’s daughter, Sarah, has been wonderful. She lives in a very attractive 1 bedroom apartment in Riverside with “Ginger Ann,” her Husky/Shepherd mix. The four of us were joined on several occasions by an enjoyable young man who is not only a friend of Sarah’s, but was a delightful addition to our team as we took in a number of the things that this part of L.A. has to offer.

Our excursions covered the range from noisy and crowded to quiet and spacious. Sunday we headed for Newport Beach and breakfast at Mutt Lynch’s. Now, that’s a stand-out experience for this man who has had his AARP card for several years now! The place was packed with twentysomethings and conversations were held at shouting level. You had to elbow your way into a place in the crowd which was wholeheartedly engaged in a sense of camaraderie with those closest around them, and halfheartedly engaged in watching one of the five different Sunday football games shouting from boxes in the upper reaches of the room. I was clearly out of my element, but I wouldn’t have missed it for anything! And besides, the food was extraordinary. Afterwards, we walked the beach, envying the surfers and the thrill of skimming along the surface of a white-capped wave.

Another day we opted for a moderately quieter outing to the San Diego Zoo. No wonder the place has been rated near the top of the nation’s zoos! One exhibit after the other gave evidence of a deep respect for the precious gift of the diversity and uniqueness of our world’s animal inhabitants. It reinforced for me the importance of doing what we can to reduce the things that harm those who share this earth-home of ours.

In radical contrast to the dizzying pace of Los Angeles, we headed east into the dessert and Joshua Tree National Park where the average rainfall is less than 5” per year. (They haven’t yet had one inch this year!) The dry and open spaces were stunning. Most of the few people who had joined us in the enormous spaciousness were there to climb the occasional and dramatic rock formations. Even wildlife was scarce but the silence was abundant.

In the middle of the packed and tension-filled freeways, the inextinguishable lights, and the constancy of the noise of Los Angeles, I found myself craving spaciousness and silence. What is the price that one pays for living with a constant diet of breakneck speed and nonstop sensory stimulation? How can you hear your own deepest inner voice in the middle of it all? I am in awe of those who can manage it, but I wonder what it does to the many who cannot. Which sounds or lights do you follow?