Many, many years ago, in the innards of the Columbine State, there lived a gentle man named Larry. A family man, was he; a good provider for his family of daughters. Often a skeptic of their activities. Particularly, skeptical of the activities that were promoted by his wife.
This quiet, gentle man lived in a community that loved him, trusted him, and, in general, thought he was “the cat’s meow.” He went to work every day at a job where he was well-respected by his fellow co-workers. A retailer was he – and a very fine retailer, indeed!
Larry had one fault that could be seen by his friends and family. Well, maybe, more than one, truth be told. But, the one prominent fault was that he had great difficulty doing things on the spur of the minute.
“How about going for pizza after work?” someone would say. “I can’t,” was his reply. “I really need to get home to … eat supper … water the grass … change the car’s oil …” Take your pick. There never seemed to be an event that could stir him from his scheduled and appointed tasks.
Larry had some geographic locations that he loved. Yellowstone, for example, was at the top of his travel list – and, his wife made that happen. Visiting daughter, her husband, and grands in another state was great, as well. And, his wife made that happen. She would say, “I plan. He pays.” And, it worked for them.
He had heard that when the winter was “just so,” Death Valley dressed in splendor. Flowers bloomed. Dry lakes became wet lakes. Vegetation flourished. A treasure to excite the soul.
And, behold! The Sunday edition of the local newspaper pictured the spring splendors of Death Valley because the winter had been “just so!”
You need to know that Larry was often given to speaking a wish before thinking much about how the spoken wish would sound to the listener – or, what the listener could do with the wish. So, when he spoke the wish, “I’d love to see all of those flowers,” the listener said, “Good, let’s go. The splendor of this year’s Death Valley won’t last long. We should leave, tomorrow.”
True to form, Larry’s response was, “I don’t think we can go. The truck isn’t ready.” To which the listener replied, “I’ll call Bill. He’ll have it ready by noon tomorrow.” “I can’t go anywhere, this week. I have to work.” And, the listener responded, “You don’t have to work until Friday. That’s plenty of time to go there for a few days and get back for work.”
Having experienced these avoidance techniques before, the listener called everyone she knew and asked them to call Larry and tell him that he should take this opportunity to go where he had always wanted to go. They complied. “Come on, Dad. You should go.” “Larry, I’ve known you for years. You’ve always wanted to see Death Valley in bloom.” “We’ll take care of the dogs.” Still, no change in the resistance.
Finally, the listener (the planner, as you know) had had enough. “Here’s the deal,” the planner said. “The truck leaves tomorrow at noon – with or without you.”
Larry could see the writing on the wall and, finally agreed to take the two-day drive to California to see this long-time, wished-for beauty.
Those lakes, dry for so long were filled to the point that people in kayaks boated across them. Views from the highest points were, of course, spectacular. Flowers were blooming in masses. As it turned out, the Desert Five Spot was his favorite. Looking deep into the cup of this flower and seeing the five perfectly rounded spots surrounded the soft pink petals was, indeed, a sight to behold.
The terrible corduroy road that would have taken the travelers to the Racetrack was so bad that in one hour the truck could only travel a short distance before turning around. He did so want to see that flat area where the rocks are moved by wind across that land. Huge rocks pushed across icy flat land, leaving a trail behind reminiscent of a snail’s path. When the land dries around the trails left by the rocks’ movements, it looks very much like a miniature Giant’s Causeway in Ireland.
The Ubehebe Crater is not there because Death Valley experienced the smashing effects of a meteor. Rather, it is the result of a volcanic eruption from a little more than 2,000 years ago. Ubehebe is easy to drive to. And, the name is great! It just “rolls off the tongue.”
The homeward journey was interrupted by a snowstorm high in the Colorado Rockies. Thus, requiring an overnight stay in what may have been the last motel room in the tiny city. And, of course, Larry’s worry set in. Would the travelers get home so that Larry could go to work on Friday?
The last leg of the journey was smooth. The roads cleared and success was achieved. Larry did make it to work on time that Friday.
Larry’s wish had come true. A good time was had by all!
Be Safe and Be Well.
The Cranky Crone
Thoughtful comments are always appreciated.
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