I made my escape to Sparks, Oklahoma Saturday morning. I packed up the ice chest, among some other" necessities"-crafts/reading. I also hauled with me, a detailed description on how to 'de-winterize' the cabin. The accommodations were meager. Although I did have electricity, I had to fetch my water from a hose at the end of the property by way of five gallon buckets. I'm not complaining, I was just happy to have a few days of peace. There is something rewarding about living beyond materials and technology. Breathing fresh air leaning to be content just sitting alone (or with a four legged furry). I didn't even turn my iPod on which was surprisingly easier to toss that I would have imagined. The first night I was there the stars were unbelievable. Being smack dab in the center of 80 acres, no city lights, no porch lights and a clear sky-it's like nothing I've ever experienced. I felt like I could reach up and grab one of those balls of fire. I could see colors, yellows and reds, it's difficult to describe. I'd tolerate cloudy days if every night were that vivid.
It was pretty gray the entire time I was out there. It wasn't too cold but the sun only peeked through the clouds a few times. I have never been out to the cabin prior to the dreaded Oklahoma summer but being there mid March was a treat, maybe even a new tradition. Not only were the stars incredible it was also silent. No cicadas/locust, no crickets, nothing. Since spring has yet to bloom, animals weren't fussing about sex. It was blissful. I would have liked more sunshine but as I said, the starry nights made up for that deficit. Sun or not, I took lots of walks around the property. By night I sat in front of the small heater and read or embroidered. That's about it. Nothing glamorous. The photos speak for themselves.
The cabin was encountering a ladybug infestation. When I'd wake up in the morning I'd notice them crawling on the ceiling. I'd lie there on my back watching the patterns shift. It was better than watching Oprah.
Red canyons. I love the way the cedars contrast with our red dirt. This photo proves there was occasional sun.
Splitting.
I found the pond. Actually, I found three ponds. Two of them blessed me with some loot. That's for later, a post about the treasures from my excursion.
My grandmother told me there were plenty of books to read out there. I found this on next to the toilet. How convenient?
I had to 'shoot' this (no pun intended). This is our Okie shooting range. A mound of dirt, some skeet and some pop cans. I know, I know, guns are bad. But I will admit there's nothing like pulling the trigger on the 357 and watching that can soar. There's nothing funny about it but it sure is exhilarating. At the end of the day, ears ringing, I realized how small I am, how small WE are. I felt connected for a moment and then it back on the highway-my home. BANG!
During my lunch escape, I was enthralled by the tipi in front of the museum. Even in its western flare, I got a kick out of it.
On my way back to my cave I wandered over and caught a brief demonstration on making arrowheads. I wanted to stay longer, but I started to feel quite inquisitive and my free time had run out. Duty calls. While I was slaving away they were having a tipi pitching demonstration, I would have traded the arrowhead demo to witness the tipi pitch. Damn. Can't win 'em all. Maybe this weekend will make up for this loss? As my mother always said "Life's not fair." Here's to hopin' at least the sun will be available this weekend!
