Dormant
December 27, 2010
It was a cold December morning that I dug a heafty self-addressed envelope, posted from China, out of the back of my closet. I put on my Spider snowpants that I’d purchased in the Beijing silk market along with my gloves. Those gloves… they were my first purchase in China and I totally got ripped off. Sheepishly I must admit it took me a few days to get over the swindle.
I then proceeded to the basement where I found my little blue sleeping bag and transformed it into the adidas jacket I’d lived in while visiting Tibet.
There’d been a bit of snow the past 24 hours that one couldn’t help notice. A blizzard in fact. I wasn’t so much excited to get outside as I was to put on my Everest gear.
I noticed a little bit of dirt on my pants and found myself wondering the name of the lake we’d stopped to photograph on the way back from base camp.
And then there was the beaten sole of my hiking boots. The snow hadn’t started to seep in until well into shoveling that day. Strangely it wasn’t an annoyance but a memory brought to life. And I was happy. The hole in the bottom of my right boot brought me back to that night in Chengdu when Justine and I had it out with a couple of motorcycle drivers and as a result I melted my boot on the exhaust.
It’s been just approximately 9 months since I returned home from China. My passport, though thin and roughed up, shoved between my Lonely Planet navigators, sits grandly on my bookshelf beside my beloved China journal. Two of my best friends… I miss you.
Somewhat immersed in the real world, back into the past of my home town, I have other obligations, responsibilites. But I have not forgotten my promises to you. To my stories.
Dormant as I may be, I too shall spring forth again with the tales of hard working Tibetans and European vagabonds. And then there are the tales I’ve yet to know. For dormant is not by any means extinct.
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