Sunday, March 30, 2014

Dildos & Sore Feet

There's this guy I'm head over heels in love with. He's utter perfection. Just adorable. Kind. Gentle. A bit hyperactive at times. A gorgeous personality. Clumsy. Mischievous. But there's a bit of an issue. You see, he's gotten fat. Now, don't look at me like that. I love a little extra something-something, but the winter months have not been kind. And yes, I feel terrible saying this. I mean, how can anyone say such things about such a magnificent creature?

So, I haven't. I mean, there's know way I can tell him he's chubby. When we go out in public and people call him a 'brute' or comment on how 'massive' he is, I tell him they are talking about his personality. Not about his size. I always take the time to tell him he is beautiful. And just the perfect the way he is. But the truth is, he needs to slim down. The even more heart breaking truth is I have also suffered the past couple months. I too am out of shape. There are no excuses, even though I have plenty I can try to pawn off as the reason why my thighs are meeting a little more forcefully than normal.

A couple months ago I was doing so well. We were going for walks every day. Hikes in the mountains. Jaunts around the block. We were at one with nature, except that asshole dog who attacked us that time and scared us into not wanting to go out. Hence the hibernation. Anyhow, I have resolved to get us both outdoors more, not only because of the weight issue, but because it's detrimental to the health of my grey matter for me to check in with nature, sink my feet into the earth, breathe the sweet forest air, and give props to Mother Nature for her most excellent and creative ways. 

Today, Dixon and I made the trek into Royston, to the beach. It's about 7.5 kilometres there, then we had to walk all the way back, so 15 kilometres both ways. It didn't take too long, really. Less than three hours. Worth every single minute. When we got to the beach, Dixon walked in the water and happened to pull me in with him. Wet shoes and an hour and half walk home didn't leave me all that enthusiastic, but there were no options. It's not like they'd let Dixon ride the bus, so I was determined not to let it ruin my experience.  

While we were walking into Royston, I stopped to take a picture of skunk cabbage which, despite its name, is actually quite beautiful. So, I crouched down to get the shot, steady my hand, try to ignore the dog pulling me this way and that, and I think I got a pretty good shot. 

But as I was getting back to my feet, I saw it in the water. Flesh coloured. Long. Thick. Alone. And I laughed out loud, because what else is there to do in that situation. Oh, and I took a picture, because who would believe me if I didn't get photographic evidence?

Yep, that's right, in the creek at the side of the road was a ten inch dildo. Just sitting there. No owner around. Of course, I got to thinking about who this could have belonged to and how it got here, in the middle of nowhere, at the side of the road, in the water. Still, the bigger question I had was, how many other abandoned dildos are out there in the world?

I didn't touch it. I left it there, hoping it would make someone else laugh.

Granted, you might be thinking this was the highlight of our walk, but it wasn't. I love going out exploring. Every time I take a new trail, I get excited over what I might find. The whole way down, I walked the roadway, so there wasn't any twisting forest trails, but the nature was there. On either side of us, the water rushing, the scent of evergreens and fresh rain. As the day progressed, the drizzle stopped, the grey sky parted and the sun came out to play. And I found these train tracks. Whenever I cross a set, I think about all the trains that used to run on them, the things they carried, the people who worked them, when they were laid.

Even though we are both out of shape, both packing around a few extra pounds, we made it to the beach. We got down there in about an hour and a half. No one was there. It was just the two of us. Sure, we didn't stay long, but we set a goal, or I did for both of us, and we stuck to it.

The beach was stunning. The tide was out. Little puddles held sea life. Rocks were slick with algae and seaweed. We tasted sea salt on the air. Wind ruffled our hair. Off to one side there were these shipwrecked vessels, all rusted and rotten. They were too far out for us to get to in order to explore, but they looked so neat standing there against the backdrop of the land and water. 

On the other side, just openness. No restrictions. No rules.

Our journey home proved to be a bit painful, for both of us. I could tell by how slow Dixon was moving and his frequent stops to drink water in the creek that he was feeling the burn. As for myself, my ass and thighs hurts, but it's that great hurt, the one telling you you're doing something right. The pain that makes you feel alive. On our return walk, I found myself looking in the creek more and thinking about how such odd things strike me as beautiful. There was this grass in the water and it was bending with the current, as it always does, but the way it was folding over and moving with the rush of water struck me as so pretty.

This picture doesn't really do it justice. You're just going to have to take my word for gospel. The grass in the water was lovely, okay?

Anyway, my feet are sore, but the walk was totally worth it. And I'm pretty sure the big guy feels the same way. It's nice I have these places to explore and the time to spend walking for three hours. Sometimes it gets away from me, but I really do live a very nice life.

No comments: