Items
topic_interest is exactly
solitude
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2022-05-26
Relocation in Isolation, Reconnection in Solitude
When Covid first kicked off, I was in the final months of my undergraduate degree, weeks away from obtaining my B.A. in history from CSU Stanislaus in December 2020. I had made plans to travel and work in Japan, teaching English, doing cultural work, and generally immersing myself into the culture I found so fascinating in my studies. However, the world's shutdown would put an end (or a pause) to this plan. Now working remotely from home, I stayed in my room working on my senior thesis, looking out the window to the often empty street. My family had decided to move, as we had decided years before but loose ends such as my degree were the final threads to be cut. Remote work had given us an unexpected leap in our time-frame, and so in the midst of the Paradise fires, to which I vividly remember the dark orange skies blotting out the sun and the ever present ashy, smoky stench on the air, carried by the warm breeze from the north, we began the process of transitioning our lives to be on the road, and to be resettled in northern Idaho. For the next year and a half or so we settled in to our new home, however the world was still largely in lock-down, and so I spent most of my time inside or in the basement where I had set up a study space to finish my senior thesis and to earn my degree through my last online semester. It was a self reflective and solitary time, in which I would often take many breaks to venture out my backdoor, which quite literally lead into the forest. Not fifty feet from my home, we have a circle of trees where we would eventually put a fire pit and often sit around together around the warmth on cold nights, talking and sharing fun with one another. When alone however, it serves as an incredible spot to simply sit back and become immersed into our natural world, an amenity I often take advantage of to this day while working on my M.A. through ASU's online program. This audio recording is a sample of that, and in it, you can hear the spring time birds chirping away, the low rumble of the highway just over the mountain, feel the breeze through the trees and the valleys from the lake, and imagine the smell of pine and flowers on the forest floor. -
2021-08-06
Covid Gardening Story and Okra Recipe
I chose to focus on my garden and our chickens that we began right before the pandemic hit. I never realized how lucky I was to live in a rural environment until Spring 2020, when living in the country meant having a bit more freedom than in the city. Our garden and chickens provided us with foods that sometimes were out of stock in our small, local store. However, we also faced other things in our community that made the psychological aspects of the pandemic really hard, such as living with those who deny the reality of the disease and mitigation efforts that people like my husband promoted, as an ER physician. I suppose this story is a bit of a love letter to our little property out in the country, despite the differences in values that we have with our town. -
2020-10-12T09:40
Our Six-Week, COVID-19 Baking Crisis
My wife and I were both home from our jobs by mid-March because the COVID-19 pandemic had, for all effective purposes, practically shut down our home state of Alabama. During our long sequestration from the world, we often baked together to pass the time. Tamsie has a sourdough bread starter that was handed down from her grandmother, so to keep the starter “alive”, she has to bake bread every month or so, which of course requires yeast. I believe that millions of Americans were at home baking during that time because we were out of dry yeast for her bread and, though we searched every grocery within a 20-mile radius of our home, we looked to no avail; additionally, yeast was back-ordered on Amazon, Walmart online, and every other online store. We were beyond desperate for that yeast, and the starter had to be near death when, at long last, I discovered an in-stock yeast on Amazon and ordered six pounds of it. Needless to say, I ordered entirely too much and thus unintentionally became that obligatory hoarder with which we’ve all had to deal during the last seven months. Thus, we had to bake dozens of loaves of sourdough bread to use that yeast! My wife is a dentist, so we baked bread for all her employees and left it on both their front porches and garages. We also baked for our neighbors and our families. The sweet smells of sourdough bread and sticky buns filled our home for nearly six weeks, as baking became an inane, daily ritual in the Rogers household! Today, whenever I smell fresh bread or cinnamon rolls, I think of our time spent together with our puppies in the kitchen, laboriously prepping, waiting for the yeast to rise, baking, and cleaning on a daily basis. I am thankful for this time, and though we now laugh about and much fun is had at my expense over my overzealous yeast spending-spree, whenever I smell fresh bread, I will forever be transported to our happy kitchen along with its aromatic sights and smells during the early weeks of the pandemic. It is truly amazing to ponder what we take for granted in our daily walks, and though I am obviously glad we are standing on firmer ground than in spring in relation to COVID-19, I miss our time together in the kitchen, which seems lonely and destitute without the sweet aroma of fresh sourdough bread. My association with this simple, yet happy memory during the pandemic is reflective of the joys we should be seeking in small things. Our daily lives are measured by our relationships, our serenity and contentment, and the joy we both provide and glean from others. The extended time at home with Tamsie allowed us a “factory reset” of sorts in our lives, one that brought our already-happy marriage much closer together; consequently, we no longer take life’s simple, quiet moments for granted. In some ways, the lasting human effects of the pandemic on relationships have been positive, in that each of us has had ample time to again focus on those whom we love. -
2020-05-16
California Coastline
March 13th was the day we were sent home from the office. Working remotely was not something I had experienced before. For the first month, I started re arranging my days. Instead of commuting for 4 hours a day I was working out in the mornings and reading more in the evenings. One day I dusted off my old film camera that I hadn't used in over 10 years. I purchased film and I started to take one photo a day. I would try to capture a photo that summed up that particular day. After two months of being on locked down I decided to drive from Orange County, CA to Big Sur. My cousin lives on 8 acres on the back side of Big Sur. I camped out on his property for a month, I ate off the land, cooked outside everyday and didn't get back into my car until the day of my departure. After a month, I decided to leave mid afternoon so I could catch the sunset on my six hour drive back home. I pulled off thirty miles past Post Ranch Inn and waited about eight minutes to click this shot in. The colors in the water, the length of the cliff and the dirt between my Red Wings and the ground made this the best photograph of the last six months. This pandemic has allowed me to slow down. To admire the little things in life and re introduce old hobbies into my life. My camera and I are one again, she comes every where with me. I will blow this photograph up one day, frame it and remind me of the times. It was fitting that I'd started reading On the Road: the Original Scroll by Jack Kerouac before my month long trip. I finished it in Big Sur. There are many great quotes by Jack in that book. However one reigns supreme..."Live, travel, adventure, bless, and don't be sorry."