Ken McAlpine
Ken McAlpine is the author of eight books, a collection of fiction, non-fiction, and essays. His most recent novel, "Juncture," is a cerebral "Jaws"; a suspense-filled thriller, a story of primal love and our changing oceans and, perhaps, a final fork in the road. "West is Eden: Reflections on this Gift Called Life," is a collection of his KCET essays. He lives in Ventura.
Odds are, you'll bring the things that matter to you when you travel. But perhaps at some point those things will falter, or maybe, for a moment, you will put them away. And then you will sit quietly, absorbing a world not remote at all.
It makes me happy to know that there are still things beyond our reach or ken. Life on Earth is still full of mystery.
My great uncle's apple orchard was sold long ago, replaced by a sea of homes on winding residential streets. They were once far outside of town, but they aren't anymore.
Certainly, children are not perfect. We know this because we were children once. But there is much about them to admire.
I know few humans willing to, or capable of, traversing eleven miles of ocean for a chicken wing.
"He's not four anymore," my wife says and I know where things are going and there is no helping it because happiness is sadness and a half smile is near to crying.
It is true that picking up trash for a few hours won't realign the Earth's axis. But it is also true that it is a fine place to start.
This is not a story about firsts; it's about everything that comes before. Some might call them failures.
Poor lighting threatens astronomy, disrupts ecosystems (nocturnal bird migrations, bat behavior and sea turtle movements), and disrupts teenage necking.
Such memories might seem small and inconsequential, but anyone who has traveled knows they are not inconsequential at all.
When I closed my eyes to the animal-shaped clouds I could hear wing beats and the zipper-quick whine of a passing bee. Little things, but perhaps not so little.