Night Drive

Wait… that’s a ginger beer.

I wheeled around. Pack, shoulder bag and all.

Hell yea, that is a Bundaberg Ginger Beer! And it’s sealed! Winning.

Ticket in. Ticket out. Down the stairs. Hang a left. All the way to the back of the lot. Headlights. Sweet. Chuck pack in the back, hop into passenger seat.

“Hey Matt!”

“Hey Jules! Good to see you. I’m ready for the weekend. Today was a long day.”

“MATT, it’s gonna be a sweet weekend! Get this, I just picked up this ginger beer off the top of trashcan up on the platform. Sealed. It’s ours. It’s gonna be a sweet weekend. We’re off to a good start.”

Tanya hopped in and we wound our way through the twisting, skinny streets of the Oakland hills to Emily’s tiny house. Grabbed gear, loaded up, and the four of us were off. The straight shot east on 580. En route to Yosemite.

Music. Snack time. Random banter. 99 South. New Dan Savage podcast. The long, dark, boring stretch to 140 East. Alan Watts audio book.

As I’m nearly finished with Carl Jung’s Memories, Dreams, and Reflections, listening to Alan Watts discuss the nature of the self sent my mind on a journey around a monopoly board of thoughts. And then my thoughts landed in Davis. At the Cannery. Inside this tank. Looking up through the circular opening at its top at the stars. And this sentence from the conversation shared within during the wee hours of the morning:

“We are the aperture through which the universe perceives itself.”

Heavy resonance between this vivid memory and this audio book that we’re absorbing. Alan Watts must have said that. Alan Watts did say that. Full circle comprehension.

And then we passed the Tap Room in Cathey’s Valley on 140. Back to the night drive. Mariposa. Gas and an It’s It. Brights on. Home stretch to El Portal.

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