Flagstaff to Sedona
Usually it's only about an hour drive to Sedona but between the road construction on AZ 89A and my pulling over to properly take in the awesome beauty along the way, it took me about an hour and a half.
I was meeting Alba at her house and I was going to teach her a routine. I didn't know ahead of time which one she was going to want, so I was unable to prepare. She had her eye on Firedance, but I told her I didn't remember all of that one and I didn't take good notes on it. Also, I didn't usually teach the second half of the routine.
I ended up recalling the choreography for the first half of the routine once we played the music and she recorded me struggling to find it again. We went through and I taught her all I knew of Firedance (which turned out to be more than I thought it would. The moves just kept coming back to me as we played the music. And for the songs I couldn't remember, I described as best I could what was going on. She was fine with that because she was going to rework everything anyway. She was using this for inspiration and ideas, which it was certainly giving her.
After about three or four hours of that, we called it a day and I took River for a walk in the nearby creek. We'd been here several times before so he knew exactly where it was. He lead me down the subtle trail to the creek. There was more water in it than there has been in the three other times we've visited. I almost didn't recognize it, but he sure did. He went right to the same spots as before, and I tried to lure him to explore new places. He ate a lot of grass.
While we were down at the creek, I remembered a move to one of the songs that I was drawing a blank on earlier. I hummed and danced a little bit in the dirt trail as River sniffed under rocks, drank for the creek and ate more grass. (Later, I forgot to tell Alba that I had remembered it. Alas.)
Everything was going along fine until River miscalculated the depth of one of the puddles and when we thought he was going to wade across to the dry boulder, found himself neck deep in water. Before I knew what was going on, he scrambled up to the dry boulder and regained his composure. Then he took the biggest leap I've ever seen him do. Like a gymnast he cleared that giant puddle and scurried away while I cheered.
He was pretty much done with the creek at that point and was only interested in taking the trail back to the car. I wanted to play more. It was so breathtaking and serene and secluded.... my ideal place. And we had at least an hour before dinner, so there was no point in leaving. But he insisted, so I relented and headed back the way we came.
I bought some time by making a game out of leaving. I'd stop and get him to stop and hold my body like a tennis player mid volley. And I'd dance around for a second and then bolt away. He'd chase after me, and I'd quickly stop and change directions again, keeping him on his toes and locked into me. After a while, I'd let him run and he'd always, no matter how scrambled up I got him, choose to run back toward the head of the trail to the street.
We hung out by the car for a long time but it was in the direct sun and started getting really uncomfortably warm. So we walked up the street a long way and then back again. There are no sidewalks and the streets are windy and tree-lined, so we had to be aware of cars.
Alba's husband Fitz, made dinner for us and I was blown away by the taste of the tiny tomatoes that came from their friend's garden. They tasted like candy in the salad! I had to refrain myself from eating them all! It killed me when Alba's mother left a big pile of tomatoes on her plate. She wouldn't eat them, she said, because they were nightshades. I wanted to eat them off her plate. But I didn't.
I spotted a big praying mantis on my car as I took River out for his evening stroll.
And then in the morning, I noticed that it was still there.
Before we went to bed, I told Alba to listen to my playlists for Profound and Fantastic, since they were really fresh in my body, it would be easy to transmit to her. And if we had time and felt like it in the morning, I could show her some more choreography.
I was meeting Alba at her house and I was going to teach her a routine. I didn't know ahead of time which one she was going to want, so I was unable to prepare. She had her eye on Firedance, but I told her I didn't remember all of that one and I didn't take good notes on it. Also, I didn't usually teach the second half of the routine.
I ended up recalling the choreography for the first half of the routine once we played the music and she recorded me struggling to find it again. We went through and I taught her all I knew of Firedance (which turned out to be more than I thought it would. The moves just kept coming back to me as we played the music. And for the songs I couldn't remember, I described as best I could what was going on. She was fine with that because she was going to rework everything anyway. She was using this for inspiration and ideas, which it was certainly giving her.
After about three or four hours of that, we called it a day and I took River for a walk in the nearby creek. We'd been here several times before so he knew exactly where it was. He lead me down the subtle trail to the creek. There was more water in it than there has been in the three other times we've visited. I almost didn't recognize it, but he sure did. He went right to the same spots as before, and I tried to lure him to explore new places. He ate a lot of grass.
Everything was going along fine until River miscalculated the depth of one of the puddles and when we thought he was going to wade across to the dry boulder, found himself neck deep in water. Before I knew what was going on, he scrambled up to the dry boulder and regained his composure. Then he took the biggest leap I've ever seen him do. Like a gymnast he cleared that giant puddle and scurried away while I cheered.
He was pretty much done with the creek at that point and was only interested in taking the trail back to the car. I wanted to play more. It was so breathtaking and serene and secluded.... my ideal place. And we had at least an hour before dinner, so there was no point in leaving. But he insisted, so I relented and headed back the way we came.
I bought some time by making a game out of leaving. I'd stop and get him to stop and hold my body like a tennis player mid volley. And I'd dance around for a second and then bolt away. He'd chase after me, and I'd quickly stop and change directions again, keeping him on his toes and locked into me. After a while, I'd let him run and he'd always, no matter how scrambled up I got him, choose to run back toward the head of the trail to the street.
We hung out by the car for a long time but it was in the direct sun and started getting really uncomfortably warm. So we walked up the street a long way and then back again. There are no sidewalks and the streets are windy and tree-lined, so we had to be aware of cars.
Alba's husband Fitz, made dinner for us and I was blown away by the taste of the tiny tomatoes that came from their friend's garden. They tasted like candy in the salad! I had to refrain myself from eating them all! It killed me when Alba's mother left a big pile of tomatoes on her plate. She wouldn't eat them, she said, because they were nightshades. I wanted to eat them off her plate. But I didn't.
I spotted a big praying mantis on my car as I took River out for his evening stroll.
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