Cow On A Rock

First of all, thanks to those of you who took the time to read the silly ramblings of a novice. Blogs have never been on my radar. Reading them wasn't something that really interested me. I suppose I think of them as nothing more than personal diaries for public consumption, and despite liking to think I am a fairly open and readbale book, I've never had the need to publish it for anyone to see. As you may begin to understand I am probably past that point now.

Just one more thing before I begin todays Search, thanks to those of you who took the time to not only read them, but give me some much needed feedback. I'll do what I can with all that you suggested, but forgive me if I miss some of those marks. One particular old friend suggested I have a point, so as Steve Martin said in "Planes, Trains, & Automobile", "You know when you're telling these little stories? Here's a good idea: have a point. It makes it so much more interesting for the listener! "

I'll be taking bets on the over/under on how long I can manage to keep a point. The line has been set at 2.

So now you're saying to yourself, "Cow on a rock? Where does he go with that?"

Hold on.

The past two days I have ventured out after dropping the kids off at school to try and see how far I could walk. Most of you know my condition right now and my inabilty to not be able to walk or work for over two months now. While I can't seem to get past the threshold of pain it requires to stand on my feet for 8 hours a day, I am able to walk much better since I recived the "block" for my pain a little over 2 weeks ago. So in order to begin to try and get life back to what I think is normal, I knew I needed to walk soon.

I really had no idea how far my body would be able to go, but I knew my mind was willing.

Well, the good news is I was able to get out to the Santa Ysabel Preserve (SYP) yesterday and walk about 3 miles. Pretty level terrain, not too strenuous, and secluded enough to give me the freedom to walk as my body needed. My pride is unfortunately very much a part of this process and I am in no way prepared to let those who know me see me struggle just to walk. As I soon found out the struggle was as much in my head as my body, although 3 miles did take me almost 2 hours.

So this morning I did what I do whenever things go well (and a lot of times not so well).....I went out again in hopes of bettering what I had done yesterday.

Relax. There was no 20 minute mile barriers broken, nor were there any 30 minute miles either. In fact I couldn't go as far as I did yesterday. Maybe 2 miles today. But those two miles brought me to......a cow on a rock.

For those who have never been to the SYP you should know that it is one of San Diegos hidden wonders. Tucked into the shadow of Volcan mountain, it is breathtaking in it's views and solitude. Not exactly like standing on top of one of the Flat Tops in Colorado near Emerald Lake, but it'll do for San Diego.

The trail starts near Volcan Mountain and for the first mile and a half it is pretty flat and very accessible for even the least fit walkers.While the trail winds through a little valley, you are just steps away from climbing to hilltops that reach close to 3500 ft. On the hillsides looking down on you are thousands of oak tress and fire ravaged pines. The oaks are much more resiliant than the pines and the contrast from hillside to hillside is striking. Wild grass grows on the northern slopes and in the morning at this time of the year it can look at times like it shines. Dotted among the grass slopes are boulders and rocks, ranging in size from a fairly large gravestone to Neolithic Age-sized boulders that Fred Flintstone and his dinosaur would move at his job at the quarry.

As you walk in this little valley the trail curves and turns so slightly that it's hardly noticeable. But as you slip around one corner to another you begin to notice that your view begins to change, as if watching a moving slideshow. The hillsides beome more populated with rocks with every turn and the view becomes even more expansive as you can now begin to see farther up the hills.

As I rounded the last turn into this quiet little valley I began to wonder to myself where all of the cattle were today. You all may remember the commercials for the California milk industry and the "great milk comes from happy cows" ad campaign. Well, this may be the area where those cows go to retire. Constantly in sight and many times on the trail itself, these cows are so happy they don't even bother to mooooove when I walk right at them. They are perfectly happy to share this land with me and even the cow patties make me feel good as I walk around them. The flies.....not so much.

But on that last turn, I found them. 20 to 30 of them scattered all over the hillside, spaced between rocks and boulders as if each one of them had decided to homestaed a little part of the preserve. A bucolic picture if I've ever saw one.

As I stood there watching cows (or as the kids and I call them, poop-a-lots) I got the strange sensation that something wasn't quite right with my Rockwell picture. I studied the scene looking for the lurking coyote in sheeps clothing or the space alien about to disembowel a few head of cattle, but nothing happened.

Then something caught my eye. At first it didn't seem odd, but the more I looked at it, the more I sensed something not altogether correct. It was just a cow chewing the leaves off one of the many low shrubs on the hill. Then I noticed something I had never seen before. This cow, this white cow, was standing on a rock.

Now this wasn't just a rock. This was a rock the size and shape of a Volkswagon Beetle. It was even shaped somewhat like a Beetle, nice rounded edges and rooftop.It was about halfway up the hillside nestled among a few shrubs , on a fairly steep portion of hill. Now, if I would have been up there I would have had a hard enough time getting on this rock because of it's location and the slant of the hill, so my mind instantly went back to the alien. I figured that was the only way this cow could have landed where it had. It had to have been placed there.Of course I let that idea go fairly quickly, but maybe not quick enough for some.

As I stood there, watching this scene, I could hear myself thinking , "How did that cow get there?" My mind started trying to figure this out. The slope was steep enough perhaps that the cow might have been above the rock, slipped, tumbled down, and rolled feet first on to the rock. After regaining it's composure it saw the shrubs within cudding distance and took advantage of a misstep and had a nice breakfast.

Or it could have walked up to that rock, saw the tender, enticing, delectable leaves and said to itself, "I'm gonna get me some of that." Then it would have proceeded to survey the situation, the angles, the payoff, and then made it's way on to the rock by sheer cow willpower.

Or it could have been the alien.

I stood there for 10 minutes or so wondering, figuring, calculating, trying to solve how thw cow got on the rock when I began to realize I had somehow gone from wondering how the cow got on the rock, to wondering how I got there. There, as in, how had I gotten to there in my life.

My steps began to resurface from memory. All of the right ones, the ones that I THOUGHT were right, and all of my own missteps. How many times had I slipped and tumbled down that hill? Had I ever been lucky enough to land on a boulder with a meal waiting for me?

That cow on a rock had opened up many portals to my life. I was suddenly swamped with happiness and regret like some sort of tsunami. I began to fight with myself to try and make any kind of sense from this cow and it's relation to me. Then I was hit as hard as a cow in an Ohio field at night that was about to be tipped by some local yokel......not that I would know anything about that, by the way.

I was fighting myself over a cow on a rock. Why? Why wasn't I able to just accept the cow on a rock? Did it really make any difference how it got there? It was there and it seemed to be having one hell of a breakfast. Yet I was fighting it.

It was just about then that the cow began to glow (not really) and I understood something about myself that I had never understood before.I should have sat down or found my own rock to stand on, but I didn't. As far back as I can remember I have always fought with myself, whether it be what to have for dinner, how to swing at a curveball, where to travel to next, or more seriously, fought with my emotions towards myself and others. I understood at that moment that I have always fought with myself so how could I not fight with others.

I turned and just began to walk farther into the preserve.

I must have walked another 20 minutes or so when I realized my back and leg were not feeling good. Under most circumstances I would have tried to walk through the discomfort and try to walk a little further than the day before. But the pain wouldn't lessen and rather than "fight" through the pain I did what most would call the smart thing,, I turned around and began to head back. No fighting myself over this one little moment in life.Maybe I was on to something that could finally, truly change my life for the better. Only time will tell.

As I approached the hillside with the cow on a rock I noticed I was no longer thinking of how the cow got on the rock, but rather, if the cow was still on the rock. I came out of a grove of oak trees and began to scan the hillside for the cow on a rock. I struggeled with the glare of the morning sun off of the golden grass. Then I saw the cow.

It wasn't on the rock any longer.

In the 40 or so minutes it took me to return to this spot the cow on a rock had managed to get off of the rock and was now slowly walking among his peers chewing and just being like any other cow.

How did it get down? Had it put on some rock climbing shoes over it's hooves and pulled out some rope, an ascender, and a pulley system and let itself down slowly and lightly until it reached solid ground? Had it simply slipped and fell and landed on it's feet or side and then righted itself hoping that none of it's cow buddies had noticed? Did the alien tire of it's game and levitate it back down? Or did it just get down?

At this point it didn't matter to me any longer. I wasn't going to get in a fight with myself about it. It was what it was and I was lucky enough to be a part of something.

So if you are still here reading I would like to say something to you.

If in my life you have been the cow on a rock, I woiuld like to apologize to you. I should never have fought with you about how you got on the rock. I should have just appreciated that you were on the rock.

Peace.