In a sprightly manner, we left the stirring city dwellers of Los Angeles behind and looked onward and upward to our journey to Dinkey Creek.
About 10 hours later, which involved a handful of pit stops and a number of u-turns, we arrived. With the sun barely leaving us enough light, we trekked down the hill, hopped across Cow Creek and climbed up and over the ridge to that magical spot. There it sat, unoccupied, as if it was waiting for us the whole time.
It felt marvelous to be back in such a special place. Sitting in perfectly egg-shaped rocks that hugged you with the warmth of the steady sun, listening to nothing but the icy, cold waters fall and stream down the creek, and seeing no one else except good company (except, of course, the three guys who caught us in the native act under a rock..oooopsies!).
It's interesting that within the normal and routinely engagements of our day-to-day lives e.g. shows, people, work, music, emails, and to-do lists, it's very easy to leave nothing for ourselves. Meaning, we place little value on simply being with ourselves - the time to be quiet, still, observant and without distraction. While there are instances when we may have let ourselves slip - staring blankly up at the ceiling or out the window - we often attempt to snap ourselves out of it because it is judged as just time wasted. (Although, this may be true if you find yourself doing only this accompanied with a small puddle of drool.) But it's crazy what happens when you have absolutely no pressing activities or people to overstimulate you.
Amongst the flower, the wise trees...(hah just kidding), one is finally allowed to be alone and completely to them self. While this may sound super gay and plain to see, in doing so, both Omar and I were instantly swallowed up and dumped into a complete and utter state of lethargy. It was as if the delay of all those moments had caught up and came crashing down on us. We were essentially incapable of saying or doing much else besides just being there, and in almost complete silence the entire time. (Although, once I ventured the rocky creek side, and it was met with some ridiculous fumbles, yelps and curse words, and lastly, a protruding branch in my side.) So, besides the unexpected and painful wood shanking, it was probably the most peaceful and relaxing one could be. Within just 24 hours, I think I had unwound and come on down.
Alas, it came time to gather our gear, take one last dip in the creek, and make the trip back to LA. When we arrived home, we looked desperately lost and out of place, as if we were natives of the forest plucked straight from the branches and dropped into civilization...
So, here's to another successful trip to Dinkey Creek!