An Eco-Adventure

A man who dares to waste one hour of time has not discovered the value of life. ~Charles Darwin

It's time for an adventure and, believe me when I say, we could both use it.

And so...

We are pulling out the mega-sized Ziploc bags, loading up on anti-emetics, fretting about waterproofness, (we really don't want another fiasco like Iceland) dusting off mi español, and are heading out to yet another far-flung dot on the globe.

I am fairly certain that when Charles Darwin signed on to be the young naturalist aboard the HMS Beagle in 1835, he could barely imagine what kind of seismic convulsions he would later send through the world of scientific research. His voyage aboard Captain Robert FitzRoy's vessel forever altered not only the way that humanity viewed its own beginnings, but also how it saw its partnership with the other creatures with whom it shares the planet. His discoveries and observations of both the flora and fauna of the Galápagos Islands are still studied today with both amazement and, more importantly, through a modern scientific lens that further enhances our knowledge of endemic species and natural selection, and allows for clear-eyed thought about how to protect the earth. Darwin would probably chuckle at the modern debates about his theories clashing with some religious opinions. While never an admitted atheist, he did espouse agnosticism in his later years but he saw no conflict between his ideas of evolution and creation.

"Science has nothing to do with Christ, except insofar as the habit of scientific research makes a man cautious in admitting evidence. For myself, I do not believe that there ever has been any revelation. As for a future life, every man must judge for himself between conflicting vague probabilities."

Darwin's religious views changed markedly after his voyage on the Beagle. His orthodoxy was replaced by a pragmatism that could no longer be denied. His collection of specimens from the Galápagos archipelago was truly groundbreaking and stunning in its comprehensiveness. We humans all owe him a huge debt.

The Husband and I are excited to walk in the footsteps of Charles Darwin. We can't wait to see the preserved and protected wildlife that has been allowed to survive and thrive thanks to the care and caution of the Ecuadoran people. We are eager to learn more about conservation, environmental patterns, natural selection, and Darwinism. We are open to it all and ready to engage with our hosts on their terms and in their natural homes.

In the next ten days, I plan to flood this space with photographs of natural wonder and awesomeness. I hope to regale my readers with a travel anecdote or two (hopefully amusing) and I want to immerse myself in a place that I never in my wildest dreams thought I'd see. I hope that some of you come along for the ride.

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.”~W.B. Yeats

Our Pacific Coast Procrastination

How does a Type A, list-making, ubër-organized, and overly methodical middle-aged woman successfully procrastinate the massive amounts of cleaning and purging still necessary in order to successfully facilitate a summer move without suffering from massive amounts of self-immolating guilt?

By taking off for Alaska, of course.

There is method to the madness.

You see, here's my theory.

If I travel far enough away from the mounds of still-to-be-completed tasks on my to-do list, I can happily reside in a fantasy world of my own creation whereupon my return, the packing faeries and rainbow-coloured relocation unicorns will have magically occupied the house and taken over all remaining tasks in anticipation of our August deadline. It may sound immature and irresponsible, but please indulge my world of make-believe. It is all that seems to be holding me together right now.

And so....

Tomorrow we embark on our latest adventure, or as I have taken to calling it, "Our Pacific Coast Procrastination." The bags are packed, the camera is charged, and the anti-emetics are safely within reach. (This trip will see us board a myriad of planes, automobiles, ferries, buses, cruise ships, and possibly a train or tram. I place the odds of projectile vomiting at even-money.) We will be travelling through a variety of temperatures and frankly I feel I deserve high props for not escaping to the safety and coziness of tropical climes. Ok. It won't be sub-Arctic, but it is June and I am going to a land of rapidly-melting glaciers. (This space does not tolerate climate change deniers, so keep your dismissive comments to yourselves, please.) Can you say "Deviating from the comfort zone?"

And...once again I will be chronicling our exploits in this space. I hope that maybe one or two of you might follow along if for no other reason than it would be nice to know that I have an audience approximately the size of a minyan. My ego is in sorry need of some stoking.

It is a funny and slightly ironic thing, but as we have been continuing the plodding process of cleaning and disposal, I came across this.

Apparently it has always been my modis operandi to record travel experiences. This particular "blog" was a 1980 high school music department trip to the UK. Leafing through it made me wince just a bit at the juvenile language structure and the horrendous penmanship, but the memories it inspired are priceless. My parents, also in the throes of their own move, have come across several cassette recordings The L'il Bro and I made documenting some of our family vacations. Journalling and me, we go way back. I find comfort in archiving my experiences. Memory is a fleeting thing. These records bring them flooding back. Social media has made the process so much easier, but the daily exercise of transferring my emotions into words helps me keep the experiences alive forever.

So off we go. Now if somebody could contact the packing faeries and rainbow-coloured relocation unicorns to inform them the coast is clear, I would be eternally grateful.