Rocks & Rivers

This place is called a coffee pub and I like the sound of it. The title, shop makes me think of an in-and -out joint, a means of transaction. The word, pub brings thoughts of community, conversation, and non-negotiable laughter. Some of my most favourite times have been hours spent in pubs (the beer kind), usually following long days on trails in the Rockies or Appalachians.

Though flying solo, frequently coming to this particular spot in Del Ray has brought quite a few memories. They range from conversing with a guy about covenant theology, over hearing the most graceless first date discussion, and accidentally (but delightfully) attending my first poetry slam. Considering the great amounts of time I like to spend in coffee shops/pubs, I’m glad to have a “base,” a go-to getaway only a few blocks from home. Ever-changing, vibrant art lines the walls. Local musicians set up camp in front of the large bay windows facing the main drive. Tonight’s mic goes to a middle-age woman whose dark spiral curls bounce as she moves, strumming her guitar. It’s been an hour and I still haven’t been able to classify her genre.
I am learning to adore my little town right outside the big city. It’s undoubtedly the best of both worlds. Easy metro access gives way to endless adventures in the world of environmental protests, homeless friends, and people watching on the lawn of the national mall. Still, on many days, I would rather lie low in the quaint vicinity of Old Town. Back in Colorado, there was a large, flat red rock amongst rocks nestled under a conciferous tree with views of the southern foothills of the Rockies. I used to drive the windy roads in Garden of the Gods at least once each week only to sit there. I thought it to be my own, but who am I to say that another individual didn’t also escape to that precise place? These days, I make my way to the west side of the Potomac, spreading out over the jagged river rock on the bank by the fishing docks. Rowing teams replace the western horse riding tours and the sailboats have me hooked. Perils of dropping my phone in the water are less painful than colliding with cactus.
Wherever I have found myself…Bethany Beach, Santa Barbara, and Zanzibar to Bucharest, Phnom Penh, and D.C., I’ve needed to find Him.

I know His presence never departs from me. This is probably my favourite of His embodiments. It is the greatest comfort to recognize Him in the midst of the business, the daily grind. Still, I find it beneficial and many times necessary to “go” meet Him. It’s almost as if I’m escaping, running away to secretly see my true love like in the most testing romance. I suppose I am.


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