This is a tough one for a couple of reasons. I spent much of my year focused on work, but on the other hand, I did more traveling this year than I've ever done before. I spent time traveling to Montana, Mexico, Austin, Las Vegas, Michigan, Chicago...
I just can't narrow it down. The moment I choose isn't in the traditional sense one spot in time, but the element of travel, which made me feel more alive than my everyday life did this year.
Running through the park in a torrential downpour in Chicago with Kyle, Marcus and Amanda. Finally finding a small building to huddle in with others who were caught in the rain unprepared. Walking in slippery, wet sandals. The fact that the sun came out again almost as quickly as it left. Eating (real) deep dish pizza for the first time—hot and wonderful—in soaking wet clothing, and not caring.
On a trimaran in Mexico early in the morning, with my family and an eclectic mix of American and Mexican tourists. Eating the freshest watermelon we had ever tasted, with hot sauce of course. Wind in our hair. Eating the seeds in the giant grapes because they tasted so good it didn't matter. Reaching our destination, a small island off the coast of Mazatlan, and walking down a beach with surprisingly chilly water. A makeshift bar with delicious MacGyvered margaritas in clear plastic cups. The hermit crab we found on the beach (Hermie!), and the collection of shells we brought back, complete with a couple of rusty old Pacifico bottle tops. Snorkeling the salty, chopped up water with my dad. Later, the four of us sitting at Kelly's bar, freshly showered and sunburned, drinking fruity libations on the tiled patio, smelling the delicious tropical ocean air that smells like Eden itself, and watching the sun go down over the Pacific.
For that matter, eating dinner in the open air at Pancho's our second night in Mexico, fresh aguachiles, big drinks, eyes on the ocean. Wishing Kyle had come with us. The orange afternoon light on my dad's face as he perused the menu. The puppet vendor who kept approaching our table when I was trying to (sneakily) take a picture of the beach with him on it. When the sun set, the fire dancers who tried to steal the show from our waiter who made us the best banana dessert I have ever tasted. Cinnamon, rum, orange rind, and the like, all lit on fire several times and served over fresh vanilla ice cream. I could spend days describing Mazatlan. Mexico set my heart on fire.
In Las Vegas in March, a wide-eyed newcomer to the wedding industry, at the WPPI convention with 14,000 other photographers. Photographing the Graphistudio fashion show in a fancy dress and getting pulled onstage to dance by legendary wedding photographer Yervant. Being nervous, but still showing off my sweet moves (hopefully not too clumsily) in front of hundreds of photographers who were, yes, taking pictures.
Flying in to Billings Airport in Montana in June to go straight to my bride/friend's pre-wedding get-together with gelato, chocolate wine and about eight girls I had never met before. Meeting up with the boys to do karaoke. My good friend/the groom David, who I've seen twice in the last three years, picking me up and swinging me around with joy. Singing some Eagles songs at the top of our lungs together. His rendition of "My Humps," which I know I will remember until the day I die. The horrified patrons. Ha! Seeing him just as tipsy as we had all been in college, and how wonderful it was. How Kristin's friend Megan decided on the spot that she really liked me, and how I did the same. How because of this trip I now have the privilege of going back to Montana to photograph Megan's wedding next year. How she is, indeed, wonderful.
Austin in October. Taking a non-family-centric vacation with Kyle for the first time ever. 85 degrees. Everything about that long weekend. Rooftop drinks in a bar with tables that were made from cross-sections of trees. The row of cactuses on the edge of the roof catching the slow, lingering rays of the sun setting our last night there. The queso, my God, the queso. The second time we ate it was even better than the first. The bar that served only beer, but served something like 100 different varieties. Watching the Old 97's rock out in an empty block in the middle of the city while we drank overpriced margaritas. The Owl Building. Facemelting super moist brisket at Rudy's (cue drool sounds now). Eating streetcorner pizza after a big night on 6th street. That guy who I swear must have been a Burner, about 2,000 miles out of place, sporting an orange wig, strange outfit and talking to us about how he was waiting around at 2:30 in the morning to start his community service. Walking barefoot back to the car because my feet were sore from wearing heels.
Seeing fireflies for the first time in Michigan, watching the Fourth of July display two hours late in South Haven (fireworks at Lake Michiga-aaan) with thousands of other people. I could describe more - my first time dancing in Star Follies comes to mind (I've never performed in front of an audience before), backpacking Desolation for the second time...but maybe I can save those for another prompt.
Point being, my best, most alive moments can't be pared down to just one chunk of time. Not this year. Hopefully, never. As soon as I started writing memories came flooding back and I struggled to keep it at the few moments I had chosen. This year as I traveled I was learning, decompressing, and apparently sampling a rich cornucopia sensory adventures.
One mark of a good life should be memories that overwhelm and refresh. Road trips that are unforgettable. Crazy things done on a whim that surprise everyone, not least of all, you. And of course, those times when you walk down a beach in Mexico, sandals in hand, slightly crispy from the equatorial sun.
No comments:
Post a Comment