YUMA, OLD FOLKS AND THE DESERT

POST # 56


It's mid morning and here I sit at a blank page on my computer screen pondering what to write about today, for the first blog of the new year of 2013. Lately it seems that I have this blank space in my brain when it comes to writing anything, and for friends and family who haven't been getting any regular emails from me, I am quite sure that they would agree that my words have been anything but prolific at the moment.
The strange part about this, is that I have been thinking up a storm lately, so there is plenty of brain activity going on, however it doesn't seem to want to translate itself to the written word. In spite of this, I will attempt to cobble together a few thoughts of what's been happening here around Yuma.

Around Yuma. To be specific, I am living in Yuma East Estates, "a planned over 55 community" as the sign at the end of the road tells me. So I have made the cut by a couple of years but I think the sign should have said " a planned grey haired community." As I stroll around the neighbourhood I get the feeling that I am one of, if not the youngest inhabitant of this over 55 community. Note to self. If I am ever feeling old, all I need to do is come to Yuma for a while and have a look around at the other folks inhabiting this town, and I will come away with a renewed sense of youthfulness.

Now don't get me wrong. I love older people, but it just feels a bit strange to be surrounded by them wherever I go lately. But it's all relative isn't it? If I were to go and walk around a university campus, I would be the old guy. I think I prefer this option for now.

One of the walks that Watson the dog and I like to go on takes us over to the local grocery store which is about a ten minute stroll from the house. Now when I say grocery store, it might sound like a small corner store, but it is nothing of the sort. It's called Fry's but maybe it should be called Big's as it is one of the largest grocery stores I've shopped in on my travels. Because of the size of the place it comes complete with the oversized parking lot to accomodate all the SUV loving snow birds and locals. Watson and I have found a bench that is out front of the store which offers us a place to rest and soak up the Arizona winter sunshine, and as we do this, we get to people watch. BIG, SLOW AND OLD,are the three words that come to my mind as I survey the shoppers coming and going. But they are all certainly very friendly especially because of the fact that I have my little dog buddy right next to me. In the short time I've been here in Yuma I've heard a variety of Boston Terrier related stories from the various folks who stop to have a chat and a pat with us. Watson enjoys meeting new people especially the ones who own dogs, and I can tell that, before they even tell me they are pet owners because Watson is sniffing like crazy around their feet and legs. I would be totally content to sit here watching people for a long long time, but Mr. Bonehead gets a bit antsy and before too long we are headed back across the sand dunes towards home. This is a journey that I could not have accomplished even a few short weeks ago, due to the uneven soft ground, however now it seems to be one of the best therapies for my leg, and I relish the opportunity to meander my way back home, keeping in mind that there may be scorpions lurking around the next sand dune. Watson is happy because there are plenty of bushes for him to sniff and pee upon and leave his calling card.

Getting back to that parkiing lot at Fry's for just a moment. One would be hard pressed to know just where you were living by surveying the variety of license plates attached to the cars there. Arizona would be the last place you would think of. B.C, Alberta, Saskatchewan and Manitoba are the main ones from north of the border and then there are also plenty of Washington, N. Dakota, and Minnesota plates as well. In fact the other day when we were sitting there, a van pulled up to load groceries, and I noticed the plate was from Alberta. I asked the lady where in Alberta she was from and she mentioned Lacombe. When I told her that I used to live just down the road in Blackfalds, she was quite amazed. Such a small world after all. It's taken me over three decades to finally work out where all the central Alberta farmers disappeared to every winter. Now I know.

Another walk that Watson and I take is just down at the end of my street and is another patch of open desert stuck right here in suburbia. Or maybe it should be said that suburbia is stuck right here in the middle of the desert. We take this walk sometime after 5pm but the time has been changing a small amount as the days go by and now continue to get longer. The purpose for this walk aside from the above mentioned benefits, to my leg and Watson's nose, is to be outside when the sun is setting. Surrounded as we are with such a flat landscape, the sun grows very large and orange just prior to setting and the result has a magnifcent effect on the hills just to the east of our location, as they turn a variety of colours. We do this walk every day and I never tire of the view. There is something special about the desert, and there are moments when I am standing out there both in the daylight and at night when I imagine that I am back in the Australian outback. The night sky is particularly wonderful, as I gaze up into the darkness and identify the various constellations. No Southern Cross here, but if I wait long enough into the evening, the Big Dipper eventually rises above the northern horizon.

By the time the Big Dipper has made its appearance, the hour is late. It's then time to take Watson out for his pre beddy bye pee, and it gives me one last chance to stare skyward and put all my small problems aside as I contemplate my insignificance in the greater scheme of things. I head inside, happy to have spent another day and always thankful for the many blessings my life is filled with.


The journey continues.

Happy Trails,
Paul
The Thoughtful Wanderer