Yesterday was the first day in a long while where I wrote no words for no reason. I wasn’t traveling, I wasn’t busy with other things, I had plenty of time to write… I just didn’t. I didn’t have the imagination. I stared at my files and no words showed up.
I went to bed feeling bleak and annoyed with myself and woke up feeling miserably sick. So I’m guessing that’s why there were no words yesterday and it might mean no words today, either. I gave Zelda the shortest walk she’s had in a while, then came back and crawled back under the covers.
But I’m leaving this park tomorrow, and I promised myself I’d blog about every new place I stay, so… Sam Houston Jones State Park. I have a nice tucked-away spot with a view of forest out of one window, but the park itself feels much bigger and more urban than most of the places I’ve stayed recently.
Bigger is accurate, I think, but the urban is just that it’s near a highway. Instead of birds and bugs and strange animals, there’s a lot of traffic noise. Well, and also there are a lot of picnic tables and a commensurate amount of litter. And maybe a lot of traffic? This morning, when I was trying to go back to sleep, I was looking out the wrong window–not the forested window–and I watched a long string of cars passing by, probably at least a dozen of them. For a Thursday morning in midwinter, that’s a lot of cars to be driving past a campground in a state park.
My first afternoon here, I watched two big cats — house cats, not wild, but I’d guess feral — stalking through the forest out my window. They feel like the definition of the place: feral, not wild. Example: this morning’s walk, admittedly short, included an encounter with a half-dressed guy staggering along the trail. Not staggering in the “I’m an injured hiker” sort of way, but staggering in the “drunk guy, sleeping it off in the woods” sort of way. Hmm, so maybe that adds to the urban feel, too? I didn’t cut my walk short because of him, but it definitely lowers my enthusiasm for random strolls through deserted trails in the semi-dark. On the other hand, swamp sunrise, quite pretty. And I saw an armadillo trundling through the woods yesterday and armadillos are always cool.
I’m hoping my current state of misery is a gluten-reaction — I didn’t read a label a few days ago and it contained some modified food starch, so it could be — but of course it feels like I’ve got the flu. Blah. It’s quite sad how desperately I wish I was back in my house, in my comfortable bed, with my freezer full of homemade chicken stock and my electric tea kettle on the counter. And my fenced backyard, so the dogs could go out without me needing to drag myself out with them. If wishes were horses, I’d have a full stable today.
But tomorrow, Texas.