One of the things that strikes me the most about our trip to Phoenix for NASCAR is the overarching Sensory Experience of the event -- so distinct and quite particular. These are a few of the sensations I noticed most this time around (some have been present each year, and others were unique to this particular trip):
* Miles and miles of dry, wintry desert between here and there.
* An ocean of RVs.
* Chinese lanterns in the night sky.
* Beloved Husband relaxing - it's quite a novelty, to see him Not Working for several days in a row.
* Scurrying pit crews.
* Vehicles zipping by, again and again and again.
* Drunken, cheerful strangers.
* Cherished Friend's hat, a beacon in the mass of people.
* Roar of engines.
* Unexpected POP of random fireworks.
* Other peoples' music.
* The crunch of gravel in a bit of mud as I went for a morning walk.
* Quiet, periodic conversation with Beloved Husband and the subtle noise of tires on road during the drive home.
* The trailer's unique scent of adventure.
* The inside of Cherished Friend's truck, which, when I opened the door to put something inside it, had the same scent as his house.
* A fuel cloud blanketing the track.
* Adult beverages.
* BEE STING.
* Cold wet feet.
* Water accidentally up my nose as I bent upside-down to put my head under the water in the minuscule trailer shower stall to wash my hair, with my body fully dressed and outside the stall (both for warmth and for ease of use). A bit contortion-y, but it appears that the most efficient way to cleanse myself in the trailer is one section at a time.
* Flannel sheets and heavy comforters.
* Heat of the sun, chill of the shadow.
* Heat of the campfire, chill of the breeze.
* Weight of a sleeping child.
Ah, to be alive, and to sense All The Things.
In which I get my comeuppance
4 days ago