Leaving home

These past weeks have brought about a huge change for me. Graduation came and went with fanfare, long lines and the goodbyes associated with such a momentous occasion. Sentimentality isn’t my strong suit right now, so I found myself more excited to get out of Washington than tearful about the farewells that I was giving to all those whom I had known for years.

After graduation my roommate Michelle, our friend James and I decided to go and enjoy the temperate May afternoon. Spokane may have its issues: it’s dull, limited and republican. But for all of that it really is a beautiful city and I think that I had taken for granted the kinds of opportunities that I have enjoyed these past four years. The three of us first ventured up to Manitou Park to go and feed ducks and walk around the gardens. We went into the greenhouse for the last time, fed the snobby ducks and then left to go to one of my favorite places in Spokane.

It’s called The Islands Trailhead, and there’s a parking lot where one can leave behind the confines of mechanical monsters for the simplicity of human powered locomotion and travel down the Centennial trail. The trail itself is nice, but what makes this area special to me is the presence of large rock formations in the river. These rocks invoke the climbing, fearless and childlike spirit in me, and it’s something I cannot restrain. We climb one rock and from our majestic perch seek out ducks, who hopefully will appreciate the gift of bread left over from the snobby ducks of Manitou Park. Seeing none, we figure there are fish and we wad up the bread, like squishy paper that oozes through my fingers and pitch the balls of dough as far as we can into the river. After the bread is gone, we still are hankering to throw things and we climb down our rock to the water level and try to skip stones. Skipping stones turns into throwing rocks and then throwing bigger rocks until our arms ache from exertion. Our throbbing limb signify that it is time to leave and we do.

This Spokane adventure really let me live out some of my fondest memories of Spokane. For me, being at college was kind of like Never Neverland. We were grown up, but in our minds that could be ignored while we went sledding, ice blocking and had other fun associated with hills and the great outdoors.

No, Spokane wasn’t a utopia situated in the flat waste of Eastern Washington, but it was the kind of place that stretched one’s imagination. Thinking outside the box was essential in a town where ready made entertainment involved alcohol or costs. One’s inner child had to be let out to play occasionally, if only because it was the only thing to do.

I’m now two time zones away from Spokane, discovering something new. Chicago is a place where my imagination probably won’t be challenged as much, but I hope I still remember to exercise the right side of my brain as I discover things to love in this Midwest jewel.