Duck, Duck -- Oh!

Trey Smith

About every two weeks I travel 50 miles south to Long Beach to visit with my mental health counselor. As our county doesn't have a lot of paved roads and we abut the Pacific Ocean, there really is only one route to take to get there. It's a lovely drive -- except for the periodic clearcuts -- as we pass by evergreen forests, tidal marshes and, of course, plenty of views of Willapa Bay.

Just beyond Milepost 32 on Highway 101, there is a very interesting tree. It has a knob that extends towards the road and this knob is covered in places with moss. It looks just like the head of a duck!

As I have reported to you many times, due to my autism, I lead a very patterned life. When pursuing almost ANY activity, I like it to do it the same as before. With this in mind, sighting the duck head on my trips to Long Beach is a must. As we cross over the bridges of the three branches of the Nemah River, my excitement and anticipation grows. When I sight the duck head, it fills me with joy, regardless of how crappy I might be feeling that day.

On Monday, as my wife and I made our way to Long Beach, we were talking and laughing as we went. For some inexplicable reason, I lost track of the milepost signs. Before I realized it, we had passed the duck head. When it dawned on me that I had missed it, I was crestfallen. I don't think I said another word to my wife for the last 20 or so miles of the trip.

Even though my wife drove slowly past it on the way back and I saw it, it didn't lift my spirits that much. Not seeing it on the drive down just sort of let the air out of my whole day.

I know this is completely irrational, but it seems to be the way my brain works. Slight deviations from my patterned existence throws me for a loop every time. I used to try to pretend that such things didn't bother me, but it almost always was apparent to anyone around me.

These days I don't play the pretend game anymore. I accept it for what it is...though I don't really understand it!