By Lauren Green
The only thing worse than unpacking a suitcase full of dirty clothes after a trip is unpacking a suitcase full of clean clothes after a trip that never happened. My husband and I had plans to fly to a small town in eastern New Mexico to see friends. The town’s nearby regional airport is convenient but little. And, as it turns out, it is also susceptible to flooding. After a week of rain, a runway was shut down and our once-a-day flight was canceled, ending our trip before it began.
While New Mexico was getting hit with rain, it was beautiful here in DFW that weekend. I had plenty I could do, but looming over my head was one thing I needed to do: write this very article. More often than not, I write while on flights. With distractions at a minimum, I find that words flow more freely at 30,000 feet. That canceled flight not only robbed me of my weekend plans, but it also left me burdened by an unwritten article — with nary an airplane in sight.
If I couldn’t fly west, I reasoned, I could at least drive east. The Grapevine Botanical Gardens is another distraction-free writing zone I often utilize when deadlines are looming. At that time of year, late-summer heat was still lingering in the air, but the gardens were lush, flowering and full of plants that were — unlike those in my own landscape — still living. A cramped seat filled with biscotti crumbs is a poor muse compared with a verdant garden blooming just down the road.
Walking into the park, I found my intended path blocked by a giant cherry picker on the main sidewalk. Up in its bucket, workers attached strings of lights between the massive trees. December was months away, but on that particular morning, the garden was getting decked out in its holiday finery. Snaking past the equipment, I made my way to a bench tucked into a cove just in front of a creek. There, I settled in to write my draft. But my concentration was broken when a less-than-eager teenage boy, his mom and a photographer paraded past me. From snippets of overheard conversation, I suspected they were on the hunt for a backdrop for the boy’s senior photo shoot. They found one in a clearing, unfortunately, mere steps from my bench. So I took off deeper into the park.
In time, I came across an empty bench and settled in for a second attempt at writing. I was a few paragraphs in when a voice floated my way. Peeking through some nearby bushes, I saw a woman talking into a cell phone mounted on a stand just inches from her face. With a lighted ring illuminating her features, she earnestly discussed tips on how to navigate the world of Medicare. A timely topic, for sure, but not nearly as pressing as the unwritten draft trapped in my brain. Dejected again, I closed my notebook and decided to call it quits. Then I heard the clapping.
Off to the side, on a patio beneath an arch of flowers, stood a man in a suit kissing a woman in a white gown. Behind them, a small crowd clapped with enthusiasm. It was a wedding! But wait, didn’t they know influencers were recording nearby? Seniors were taking pictures? Guys in buckets were stringing lights? Apparently, no one on the patio cared about any of those things. And from what I could see of that kiss, the bride and groom certainly didn’t care, either. They had their minds on something else entirely. That day’s events led to all sorts of discontent and delight. And, as it turns out, all those detours led me down a path to this article after all.
A while back, in this very space, I wrote a different article about my favorite suitcase. It’s white, compact and super cute. It’s also seen a lot of travel this year — not counting that canceled trip to New Mexico. No matter how long my trips are, that small suitcase is my go-to luggage. As a result, I have learned how to pack with a light hand.
Now, that little white suitcase is about to get a rest. The holidays are coming up, and I plan to be home for a while in hopes of packing in some local festivities. Yet I suspect that even on days when I never leave the house, cancellations and detours still await. As such, knowing how to unpack with an equally light hand may prove beneficial.
Lauren Green and her expanded family of six have called Southlake home for more than 19 years. If you see her at the airport or on a park bench with a blank notebook in hand, please don’t distract her. Instead, reach her anytime at [email protected].