Long fatty post

Winter purity

Tonight I drove through magic.  The kind of quiet, late-night sparkling beauty that speaks to the luxury of being alone.  I like the quiet danger of being out in a snow storm when things are a bit out of control.  Its the same feeling I get on a motorcycle - powerful, vulnerable, and somehow a feeling a great stillness and rest.

Being a personality chameleon, I like being around people that draw out my vital streams.   Always, in times of snowy unknown, I think of an unusual old friend. Have you ever met a young person that felt so seasoned from their life’s twists, that they seemed ageless, almost iconic?  Trubert Flowers (yes, his real name) was (and I assume is) like that.  In the height of America’s grunge period, I met this no holds barred American cowboy.  Quiet, prepared and mischevious, I had never seen anything like him.  Full on six-shooters, chaps, Wranglers and snapfront shirt.  I rudely gaped in amazement the first time I met him.  I was sure he was joking. Or a circus clown.

I traveled through Amarillo, his landing spot, several times. I’d join friends in sledding behind his horses and watching him break a horse.  I even learned how to crack one hell of a long bullwhip – poorly, I might add.  But my favorite experiences were getting caught with my girlfriends in his truck on the highway in snowstorms.  I remember being pretty scared coming home with a few of my teammates from a church service in his truck.  Winter storms blow up fast and nasty around the panhandle.  It becomes quickly apparent who is prepared and who’s going to be waiting for a tow.

I watched Trubert, a man at ease in his element, comfortable with the unexpected and even enjoying it.  He pulled car after car out of the ditches while we girls sat like idiots.  I barely drove a stick shift –let alone that behemoth of a truck he tooled around in.

Observing him made me want to be stronger, less oblivious, and more prepared.  So in the snow tonight, I embraced the strength of knowing more of who I am and liking it.  When the wheels spun and the snow was thick, I remembered that I could be at rest; I could enjoy the purity of winter.