Travel – Page 13 – All It Takes Is A Little Love

A Rainy Afternoon

Published on March 9, 2017March 5, 2017 by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

rainy-afternoon-zadar-93e60d499c2f267c33de164c89ad35ca Last Sunday was a dreary day, a kind of last hurrah for winter in the south that always seems to arrive in the first weeks of March. The rain washed out my plans to tinker in my yard so I ended up at Costco along with a huge crowd that included some of my neighbors. I suppose that we all decided to go in spite of the weather, or maybe because of it.

I played a game of noting what everyone had in their carts. It’s always a ton of fun to see what items people select from the vast inventory of televisions and popcorn, clothing and canned goods. The winner always seems to be one of those big batches of toilet paper, the reason that I was there, but there are also many boxes of cereal and cartons of eggs lolling inside the grocery baskets of almost everyone.

Some people appear to be preparing for Armageddon with many years’ supplies of everything from vitamins to dog food. They literally need rolling pallets to carry all of their selections and I find myself wondering where they will be able to store all of the makeup and motor oil. I imagine rows of shelves along the walls of their garages with labels indicating when each item of inventory expires. I like to picture their families and the reasons that compel them to choose certain things.

I limited myself to purchasing only the basics, toilet paper, paper towels, two chickens, a pot roast and some pork chops. I have to control my impulses or I will walk out with more than will fit in my car and even worse, more than I will ever use. With no children in the house a flat of apples tends to be an overabundance that will lead to rotting fruit at the bottom of my produce drawer. Still I am often tempted to purchase enough facial tissues to last through several flu seasons simply because the price is so fetchingly low.

I almost always enjoy lunch while I am there. After all, I can’t resist the idea of getting a huge polish sausage on a bun with endless refills of Pepsi for only a dollar fifty. Besides, sitting at a table munching on my feast allows me a bit more people watching time and it is definitely a show. I find myself wondering who all these folks are and from whence they come. They are a diverse bunch who seem to represent every possible strata of American society. Somehow the buyers at Costco have managed to carry all of the items that they seek, including motorcycles and tires. I laugh a bit when I think of how much joy a place like this would have brought my mom. The two of us might have sat for hours just soaking in all of the entertainment that comes from viewing such a large a slice of life.

Once I got home the downpour had increased and it was obvious that there wasn’t going to be a break in the weather. I sat in my favorite chair and read one of my several latest books. I tend to be in the middle of three or four at a time which may sound a bit strange but I write it off to the effects of my attention deficit disorder. The one that seemed appropriate for a rainy day was a volume that I found on my last trip to New Orleans entitled 1 Dead in Attic. It is a compilation of articles written by a reporter from The Times Picayune written in the aftermath of hurricane Katrina. Each essay is short and quick to read so I can enjoy one or multiples depending on how much time I have to devote. The author, Chris Rose, shares his love of New Orleans and the stories of despair and revival that kept him and his fellow citizens from going insane in a time that was almost beyond the capacity of words to describe. His sense of humor and humanity captures the appalling images as well as the can do spirit of people who refused to declare their home town dead on arrival. It is a joyful dirge and intimate portrait of a city in total disarray that somehow found the where with all to overcome the most unimaginable tragedy. It will make you laugh and cry at one and the same time which is an oddly appropriate way of thinking about New Orleans.

I thought of the first time that I returned to New Orleans after Katrina. The city was still devastatingly somber. The crowds that had so often filled the streets were decidedly small. There were diehards attempting to keep the spirit of revelry alive but they were definitely struggling. We had breakfast at Brennan’s and there was still an odd aroma of mildew in the air. We didn’t need reservations because hardly anyone was there. The waitress who served us literally cried when we told her that we were from Houston. She and her family had found refuge in our city after hers had been so destroyed. She thanked us for our hospitality and told us that this was literally the very first day that the famous restaurant had been open since the storm. I almost lost my composure as she fell all over us trying to express her happiness that things were beginning to return to normal.

I remember how we drove around on the highways trying not to look like buzzards as we gazed at entire neighborhoods that had been reduced to rubble. It was like a scene out of a dystopian movie and it broke my heart. As I read Chris Rose’s descriptions of what he encountered only days after the hurricane it was difficult to imagine that I had first seen the city after it had actually made great progress in coming back to life.

I have always loved to watch rain from my windows. It comforts me. Sadly many of the people who came here from New Orleans after that horrific storm confided that for quite some time the sound of rain was terrifying. I remember having to console children and teachers who literally came undone whenever the weather became frightful. Some of them cried and related tales of things that they had seen that would never really fade from their memories. In reading 1 Dead in the Attic I have truly begun to understand just how much their lives were forever changed.

Its been twelve years since that unbelievable natural disaster. New Orleans was rocking on my last visit and yet it had still somehow changed. The people who stayed and those who came later have continued the traditions and still harbor the unexplainable feelings of devotion that they have for this very special place but now there is always an element of fear and caution in the back of their minds. Only recently they were once again reminded of just how fragile their home is when tornadoes ripped through an area of town that had barely been reclaimed from the ravages of Katrina. It takes a special kind of personality and resilience to live in New Orleans but Mr. Rose explains quite well why there will always be those who are willing to endure hell and high water just to experience the magic.

All in all I have to admit that people watching at Costco and reading vignettes from a well written book made for a very fine Sunday afternoon. It’s good to have a change of pace now and again. Sunshine is always nice but there is much to be said for the comfort of a gentle rain and a view of the ever present parade of humanity.

East Meets West

Published on March 3, 2017February 28, 2017 by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

caption I recall learning how to write a proper letter in elementary school. At the end of our practice the teacher surprised us by announcing that she had a list of children from Japan who wanted to communicate with an American pen pal. I immediately agreed to send a well written epistle if chosen for the honor of meeting a new friend in a faraway land. Happily I was one of the lucky ones who received the name and address of a Japanese girl who was waiting to hear from me.

My mother took me to a stationary store where I found some lovely lightweight paper with matching envelopes that would work well for sending an airmail post. It was a pale sea foam green and had tiny pink rosebuds imprinted in the background. It was the most beautiful parchment that I had ever seen. I was quite proud to have such a lovely means of getting to know my Japanese counterpart.

Following the instructions that my teacher had taught me and using my very best penmanship I introduced myself hoping that I would sound interesting enough to elicit a response. Once the letter was complete I carefully and nervously folded the sheets and enclosed them along with a school photo of myself inside the envelope. Mama drove me to the post office to be certain that there was enough postage on my letter to get it to Kyoto, Japan as quickly as possible. Then I waited and waited, checking my mailbox as soon I as got home from school each day.

It seemed like an eternity before I received a response. Some of my friends who had also written their pen pals had already brought letters from their correspondents to school to show the rest of us. I was beginning to wonder if I had sounded too boring to be worthy of a reply when a huge manila envelope came with my name printed neatly on it. Inside was a lovely book filled with exquisite photos of Kyoto. There were also multiple photographs of my pen pal who was a true dark haired beauty wearing a school uniform in one and traditional Japanese dress in another. She enthusiastically wrote about her excitement in receiving a letter from me and then told me all about herself. I was beside myself with wonder at the very idea of communicating with someone who lived so far away and in such a lovely place.

Over time we often wrote back and forth and made the kind of pledges that children often do that we would be best friends forever and that one day we would meet each other in person when we visited each other’s homes. I liked to imagine her walking through cherry blossoms and drinking exotic teas while she seemed intent on insisting that I must surely know lots of Texans who rode horses and did tricks with ropes. We both fantasized quite a bit and I suspect that we each became a bit disenchanted when we realized that life was actually rather mundane for both of us, filled with studies and the challenges growing up.

Eventually we hit our teenage years and became busier and busier and the letters came and went less and less frequently. Finally we were lucky to manage to write each other one time a year and then our longtime correspondence came to an end. I told myself that I would resurrect our friendship soon enough but I never seemed to find the time. What had been so much fun simply fizzled out but not without leaving a dramatic imprint on me. I had developed an enduring fascination with Japan that even decades later has not abated. I love to read about Japan, watch movies about Japan and I have even been known to have crushes on Japanese actors. In the back of my mind there has always been a dream of one day traveling there, especially to Kyoto.

I still have the book that my long ago friend sent to me. Sadly I did not keep the letters and time has erased my memory of her name. I have no address that might lead me to her again but I often think of her and wonder how her life has been. I’m curious to know if she married and had children. I try to imagine what type of job she may have held. She was quite artistic so I suspect that she did something creative. I hope that she has been happy and healthy and been able to accomplish her dreams. I’d like to think that she remembers our brief friendship and enjoyed it as much as I did. I feel guilty that I did not try hard enough to keep in touch and worry that something may have happened to her that prevented her from writing. I wish that I had inquired about her even if only in a brief message letting her know that I cared.

I never got to Japan. There were always other places to go and things to do. I was busy raising a family, taking care of my mother, working, sending my children to college. The years went by so quickly that I hardly noticed. I eventually rode horses now and again which I think she may have liked to know. I hiked to the top of mountains where it seemed as though I could see forever and I imagined her enjoying life somewhere off in the distance.

I did not forget her. How could I? Those letters from her gave me so much pleasure. They made me feel as if I had been part of a grand adventure. She and I shared our stories and our secrets and found that the east and the west were more alike than they were different. We were two girls who dreamed of conquering our respective worlds and I would like to believe that both of us did.

Off Season Adventures

Published on February 1, 2017January 31, 2017 by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

Most of my life has been directed by the school year calendar. Whether as a student, a parent or an educator I measured my days in six or nine week cycles filled with reading, study and compositions. It was only in the warm months of June, July and August that I had enough free time to experience the wonders of nature beyond the confines of places near my home. I saw the world from the perspective of only a quarter slice of time. I had little idea that so much was happening in the places that I so loved while I was ensconced in classrooms and libraries. Because I did not have the benefit of taking a vacation at a time of my own choosing I never truly experienced the changing of the seasons or the differences in color and light from one month to the next. Mine was always a holiday shared with vast crowds. It was not until I finally retired from my labors that I began to see the world around me in new and quite enchanting ways.

Travel is quieter and less hectic when schools are in session. Campgrounds and hotels generally have many vacancies from which to choose. The roads are less congested and the drives are leisurely. There is no ticking clock announcing a need to hurry. There is a glorious feeling of aimlessness that allows for random explorations that lead to exciting discoveries. For the first time in my life I am at liberty to take advantage of my freedom from an academic calendar and head in any direction that I choose on any day that I wish. I experience an exhilarating freedom every time that my husband and I hitch up our trailer and head onto the open road.

I have seen the rich hues of red, orange, yellow and gold that paint the fall landscape. I have felt the crackling of the fallen leaves beneath my feet and the sting of a cool afternoon on my nose. I have stood all alone in a forest while the wind blew across my cheeks and tousled my hair. I have listened to the silence all around me. I have enjoyed a steaming hot bowl of chili at the top of a mountain in a restaurant preparing to close for the coming winter. I’ve stopped at a Buccee’s when I was able to park right in front of the door and walk straight through without bumping into hordes of people. These were wondrous moments for me because heretofore I had never been able to enjoy such experiences. I would have been busy imparting the knowledge and skills of mathematics to the latest members of my class.

I have learned that the ocean is perhaps at its loveliest in the winter. Its aspect changes from hour to hour. It may be draped in early morning fog and then glistening in afternoon sunshine. The beaches are pristinely empty and it takes little imagination to feel the sense of wonder that may have been the reaction of the first explorers who landed in such glorious places. There is a majesty in hearing only the sound of the waves and the flapping of the wings of the birds who have reclaimed the area for the season. I so love staring into the horizon and feeling as though I am looking into forever. I think of all of the people who have stood in the same spot from which I am viewing the splendor of the sea and wonder what dreams and stories unfolded from my vantage point. I find buried treasure in the form of sand dollars and shells of many shapes and colors. I eat the lunch that I have brought in silence, starring out as far as my eye can see and feeling that surely I have found a tiny slice of heaven.

I have passes to the Texas state parks and all of the national parks as well. I love to explore the trails and pathways that invariably lead to the most delightful destinations. I feel my energy and health improving with each step. It is a glorious way to exercise. I have no need of machines when the great outdoors is beckoning me. Everything that I need to shed anxieties and pounds is right in front of me. I forget about the stresses and concerns that so often plague me when I am communing with the forests and the creatures that skitter around me. I feel at home enjoying the bounty that no man is capable of reproducing. For all of our genius we cannot build a mountain or an ocean but we can enjoy and honor the wondrous bounty that nature still provides us and there is no better time than when our footprints do not have to compete with big crowds.

I never sleep as well as when my trailer is parked in a secluded area surrounded by trees or the vistas of a lake. I am caressed by the quiet and warmed by the heavy blanket that I always carry for cold nights. A simple cup of tea tastes like the nectar of the gods on such nights. The starry sky puts my own place in the universe into perspective. I understand that I am but a tiny speck in the grand scheme of things and yet I am unique and important. I feel content as I become a shadow in a darkness that is not possible in the lights of the city. I feel relaxed and I find the comfort of slumber so easily.

The food that I eat on such journeys always seems to be so good. A bite of baked chicken or a crisp apple lingers on the tastebuds of my tongue. I have no need to hurry my dining. I sit at the table and slowly partake of my simple feast while enjoying the antics of a rabbit or laughing at the cardinals that zip past my window. Sometimes a family of deer strut through my campsites and on occasion I see something truly exotic like a moose or a turkey or a roadrunner. It is like having dinner and a movie, more special than the most expensive night out and often I am among an elite group lucky enough to be present when few others are there.

I feel blessed to be able to enjoy my little adventures and to discover the world as it is during the school year. It is truly grand to visit places in the off season when the tourists are mostly gone. Sometimes my husband and I may be the only people in sight. In those moments I feel as though I am royalty enjoying a private beach or a castle in a forest of my own. Who knew how many simple pleasures were just waiting for me to find them? Traveling at odd times of the year is truly one of those little known secrets. It is the best.

Someday

Published on January 13, 2017January 12, 2017 by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

maxresdefault All of us are guilty of procrastination at one time or another. We promise ourselves that we will design a plan for healthy living but never quite get around to doing so. We have a bucket list of places that we would like to visit but always have some reason or another why we can’t quite find the time or the money to take that trip. We resolve to spend more time with a family member or friend who has a difficult time getting out of the house but the someday that we intend to do so never quite comes. We have the best of intentions but our follow through is often lacking. Sometimes we find ourselves filled with regret because it is truly too late to fulfill the dreams that have filled our heads. Excuses all too often preempt actions. Tomorrow never quite comes.

The realities of life are often hectic and unpredictable. It is not that uncommon to become so involved with the routines and surprises of our lives that we never have the time or the energy to actually accomplish our goals and desires. We are often so responsible that we put our own wishes at the bottom of long to-do lists. We believe that so many other people must come first. Our children need us. Our elderly parents require our attention. Our homes need to be cleaned or organized or repaired. We have to pay the orthodontist or the car mechanic. We find hundreds of thousands of dollars to send our kids to college but see that cruise to Alaska as a luxury that we can’t afford. We tell ourselves that someday everything will work out but as the years go by we begin to realize that we may never actually do so many of the things that we had at one time thought we might experience. Sometimes we have to grab the moment and put ourselves first, as selfish as that might seem.

I have found that there has never been a single time when I decided to just go for something that I wanted to do that it did not turn out fantastically. I had the crazy idea of going to graduate school at the same time that my daughters were in college. I had little idea how I was going to pay the tuition and fees or buy the books but I knew that I needed to take the risk or I would one day be quite unhappy. I had to attend classes after a busy day at work and spend entire weekends reading and writing papers. I was exhausted and low on funds but I was also driven to accomplish the task. I refused to give up even when my goal seemed almost foolish and impossible. It took me four years but when I was finished my higher level of education opened up doors that provided me with the happiest times of my work life. I knew that I had done the right thing and that all of the sacrificing had been worth the effort.

Once both of my daughters were grown and living on their own I decided that I was going to visit Europe no matter what it took to get there. I was one of the few people among my friends and relatives who had never been there. I was in my mid fifties and I worried that if I didn’t make a move I might soon be afflicted with health problems that would preclude such a journey. I convinced my husband to take a leap of faith and spend some of our savings to travel across the Atlantic. We accompanied friends to a ski resort in Austria during the Christmas holidays. The vacation was enchanting from beginning to end. It was without question one of the most wonderful experiences of my life. I vividly and happily recall every second and treasure the memories. I’d hate to think that I might have somehow passed on the opportunity to see the wondrous sights that were part of that trip.

Most of the time if we carefully consider a particular situation we find that with just a bit of planning and a willingness to work a bit harder we are capable of doing far more than we might think. With a solid goal in mind we can save a bit of money here and there, reschedule our routines, find ways to do the things that excite us.

Some people are so good at prioritizing their lives. If they want to travel they forego less meaningful luxuries and religiously set aside the funds that they will need. If they desire a particular job or lifestyle they put in the time to get the education or training for the work that will get them where they want to be. If their goal is to volunteer more they make certain that doing good works is built into the calendar of their daily routine. Those who wish to be more spiritual find a time and place to pray or reflect. Some get up an hour or two earlier so that they might exercise. All worthy dreams are fulfilled with a bit of ingenuity and effort.

Our somedays are far too uncertain to gamble them away. Don’t just have a resolution. Have a plan. Literally sit down and determine how you will make a goal become a reality. Talk with your family and friends for insights and don’t feel shy about asking for their help. Create a reasonable timeline for doing the things that you wish to do and try to deviate from the plan as little as possible. Keep track of how well you are doing in meeting your expectations. Make adjustments as needed. Try not to get distracted with events and situations that are unimportant. Have someone who is willing to encourage you when you become frustrated. Most of all keep telling yourself that you deserve as much of your time and attention as anyone else. You don’t have to ignore yourself to be a good person. It really is okay to pamper yourself by checking off those desires on your bucket list. In fact you will be happier and healthier and more likely to be of use to the world if you learn how to give to yourself. Make those somedays happen. There is no better time to start than today.

Nature Unplugged

Published on January 12, 2017January 11, 2017 by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

21nov2011_1__dsc7226 My husband and I went camping last weekend when the temperatures were in the freezing range. Our neighbors wondered out loud if we had perhaps neglected to note the arrival of colder than normal weather, especially when they heard that we were going to Galveston Island State Park. Somehow in their minds it seemed rather strange to head to the beach in low thirty degree conditions. I suppose that most people would agree but that’s because they haven’t tried it.

We covered out plants before leaving and took the more delicate potted ones inside. We kept our smart phones tuned to the Weather Channel and equipped the trailer with our warmest blankets, lots of hot chocolate, coffee and tea. We made sure that we had coats, gloves and hats and that the propane that runs our heater was in full supply. Mike even had foam insulation to put around the hoses that provide water for our convenience. We were as well prepared as a bevy of Boy Scouts.

It was grey and rainy when we arrived at our campsite. We had a grand view of Galveston Bay which was anything but tranquil. The thirty mile per hour winds created enormous white caps on the waves that churned the water. It was a glorious site that we enjoyed from inside the cozy comfort of our trailer whose walls were buffeted by the storm. We listened to music and had the rare privilege of simply enjoying the scene around us without interruptions from phones or unexpected solicitors at our door. We felt as though we were in a warm cocoon hibernating from stress and it was wonderful. We had neither the need nor the desire to venture outside because we were surrounded by the serenity and bounty of nature.

The marshlands between us and the bay were teeming with exotic birds doing their best to hunker down until the environment became less hostile. They were magnificent and I felt as though I was being given a rare treat because I doubt that they would have been so bold if the other humans that were in the park with us were walking about. Since all of us stayed indoors we had a rare peak at what goes on inside such an ecosystem. I most enjoyed the pelicans who somehow appear graceful in flight despite their bulkiness in physique. There were cranes and seagulls and grumpy blackbirds that attempted to take control of the area but were generally ignored.

After dark we watched a movie while wrapped tightly in our blanket with the heater warming all of the corners of our tiny home away from home. We sipped on chai tea and hot chocolate and munched on bowls of popcorn. I couldn’t imagine a more perfect evening.

The sun eventually came out and we ventured over to the Galveston Seawall where the water was crystal clear and shining like brilliant jewels. Nobody was swimming but many sauntered along in their heavy winter gear just enjoying the sound of the waves and the lack of big crowds that usually cram the beach. It was actually far more beautiful that it is in the heat of summer and I began to think of all of the secrets of the sea and wonder what the waters had witnessed during the course of history.

We followed Seawall Boulevard all the way down to the end of the island where huge ships were entering the bay. I wanted to know from whence they had come and where they were going. There was a virtual traffic jam of tankers, barges and tug boats. Along the shore fishermen quietly cast their lines in hopes of landing dinner for the evening. It was isolated and felt like a private tour of places on the island that I had not before seen.

We drove to the historic Stand and braved the cold to walk among the shops and browse the wares. The clerks were happy to have customers and the time to tarry in conversation. I learned that many people come from other parts of the country just to live in Galveston during the winter season. Most of them had neglected to bring their cold weather clothing and so they had to make do with layering on that very cold day.

It was Galveston Restaurant Week and so we stopped at one of our favorite haunts, the Gumbo Bar. It was good to find some warmth and a special menu in honor of the festivities. We enjoyed oyster po’ boys and bread pudding and then drove to the ferry that goes across the bay to the Bolivar Peninsula. There were more ships and hundreds of birds as well as offshore oil rigs to keep our attention in the short trip across.

I had not been to that area in a long time. I had heard that there had been grave damage when Hurricane Ike hit several years ago. It seemed to have recovered rather well but as always it is a quieter side of Galveston Bay without nearly as much of the tourist trade. It’s a paradise for fisherman and those who want to catch a few of the blue crabs that inhabit the waters. I noticed a number of RV parks hosting snowbirds from northern states, people who come each year to avoid the snow and months long cold of their homes.

By the last day of our mini-vacation the temperature was hospitable enough for us to take a long stroll along the beach. We bundled up and brought a bag to use in collecting the many shells that had been left behind by the storm. I found some beauties but mostly enjoyed the fact that we were the only people anywhere. I felt a contentment as we walked silently from one end of the beach park to the other with the waves whispering their welcome to us. I didn’t need to enter the water to feel a sense of joy. I only desired to observe all of the wonders of nature that graced us in our solitary little haven.

We reluctantly left for home driving for one last time along the seawall. There were more people braving the cooler temperatures to walk on the wall built by people attempting to tame the wildness of the sea after the ocean swallowed Galveston in a hurricane of 1900. The waves were asserting themselves as if to remind us all that they are ultimately in charge. Their power is breathtaking and my last glance at them left me with a lovely memory whose image I draw upon for comfort and serenity.

Those who believe that there is nothing to do in Galveston on a freezing cold day in January have never been there to see what we did. It was one of the loveliest camping trips that I have ever made. It’s delightful to visit a place without the sometimes intrusive footprint of other people crowding the view. Go there in the winter. Linger in the quiet. Enjoy nature unplugged.