Resferber
Resferber is a Swedish word that has no English equivalent. It means “the restless race of the traveler’s heart before the journey begins; when anxiety and anticipation are tangled together”.
Mom always said that I would get tired of traveling places. That hasn’t happened yet.
I’ll admit that there is a point of the journey where it feels like time to come home. But that feeling of resferber is addictive. It really doesn’t matter if I’m headed to a new continent or a new campsite. Maybe that’s why I spend so much time running off on road trips. I know that in this blog, I’ve blamed it on depression, being happy and too comfortable, the need for artistic inspiration, and the importance of getting out and experiencing our very small amazing world (and be forewarned that I’m warming up a rant on conservation and love of our natural resources). But at the heart is resferber and wanderlust and the smell of campfire at night and new air in the morning.
There needs to be an analogous word for the feeling of picking up a camera before I get ready to shoot. It’s as though the camera is the thing that has been missing from my hand. I’ve never been sure if camping and hiking are a flimsy excuse to get out and take pictures of something new or if the need for making pictures is a flimsy excuse for hitting the road. One always feeds the other.
So here’s a few more pictures from the road. This time it’s down to Southeastern Oregon to hit the Hart Mountain Antelope Reserve, Summer Lake, and Fort Rock.
We’re on a road to nowhere, come on inside,
Taking that road to nowhere, I’ll take that ride…
Zig Zag Stream, Hart Mountain
The golden ratio the shell,
the stairs ascending round themselves
the trees rustle as if to kneel and listen…
Petroglyph Lake Trail in the Fog, Hart Mountain
I can sense it, something important
is about to happen, it’s coming up
it takes courage to enjoy it
the hardcore and the gentle…
Windbreak Dike, Summer Lake, Oregon
Ooh mercy, mercy me
ah, things ain’t what they used to be,
no, no, where did all the blue skies go…
Summer Lake, Oregon
I got some satisfaction from lifting up your dress,
a slap in the face is worth a hundred words.
When I open my eyes again I expect that you’ll be gone,
but you always do what I expect…
Summer Lake, Oregon
Well I’m on my way,
I don’t know where I’m going,
I’m on my way, I’m taking my time
but I don’t know where…
Summer Lake and Winter Ridge, Oregon
Thought it’s cold and lonely in the deep dark night,
I can see paradise by the dashboard light…
Swarm of Swallows, Summer Lake, Oregon
Well my father was a gambler down in Georgia,
he wound up on the wrong end of a gun,
and I was born in the back seat of a Greyhound bus
rollin’ down highway 41…
Rock Formation, Fort Rock
She’s fighting, she’s fighting the urge to make sand out of pearls…
Rock and Sky, Fort Rock
Got lost in the places I’ve been,
I should go out with my friends…
Rock and Sky, Fort Rock
Hold me fast, cause I’m a hopeless wanderer,
And I will learn to love the skies I’m under…
Mostly.
On the iPod: Road to Nowhere, Talking Heads; Lark, Josh Ritter; Big Time Sensuality, Bjork; Mercy Mercy Me, Marvin Gaye; Dragon Lady, Geraldine Fibbers; Me and Julio Down By the Schoolyard, Paul Simon; Paradise by the Dashboard Light, Meatloaf; Rambling Man, Allman Brothers; Heaven Can Wait, Charlotte Gainsborough w/Beck; Evening Kitchen, Band of Horses; Hopeless Wanderer, Mumford and Sons