Life Trails: It's a Dog's Life

I had an interesting conversation with my 70 something friend this week.  We discussed the usual we’re gettin' worn out trivia that we 60/70 somethings throw back and forth at times.  When you’re at this point on the life trail, and you stop to enjoy the lookout point, what you begin to see can be increasingly disturbing!

-When did the children get to be so old?

-Oh my god, that can’t be so and so on my PBS screen who sang whatever it was that hit number 1 on the charts in ‘65‘ cause she certainly didn’t look like that!

-I thought my mother passed away…but now she’s in my bathroom mirror ! 

-I used to run to the mailbox, now it’s so far away it takes twice as long to get there!  When did the Post Office move it?

-I know times are hard but do ALL the companies that produce food for our shopping…have to make the print so small on their labels?!

-Have you noticed that all manufacturers are making the clothes smaller – including the shoes?!

-I think I recall when the young guys used to give me a certain kind of second, slightly longer look; now, they tip their hat, hurry to open the door for me and say things like ‘yes Ma’am’…did I miss something???

-The manager at a Loaf ‘n Jug’ told me the other day that the reason I had to pay first before pumping was due to a fella’ running off with a full tank of gas a few days before - without paying…’he was around your age..’, he said, looking at me with that similar certain look I get from the young guys.

So this morning, my 70 something friend gave me some words of wisdom – and I listened – ‘cause there’s no generation gap here!  “When your plate gets too heavy…just put it on the floor"! 

Now that…has possibilities…

Nature prevails, at least for a little while longer…

Stress Trails: OverwhelmingNESS

You wake up and your head is cloudy with pervasive fog throughout your body. You can’t seem to believe that living this day is on your priority list – or even worth the thought.  You can’t imagine one positive item in your life, and to boot – your wallet will soon be empty – yet again, ‘cause the car just went lame, the septic tank is acting full and, well…maybe…it’s time to just jump into it because the smell out here is just about unbearable!

How is it that we can be gung-ho one day, running around like Congress just adjudicated 8 more hours to Monday through Friday, and the next day, well, you know; any clues?

Consider this: our brain is like a gargantuan, multi-sided room with doors on every side.  Most days, the connected locking system is carefully controlled by a complex matrix that electrically runs all ‘processes’ with the smoothness of a new computer – at least for the sake of this argument. And for the sake of this argument, we’ll name this matrix - what’s-his-name.

But as with all electrical systems, sometimes a ‘short’ occurs, a wire crosses, what’s-his-name falls asleep at the wheel.  (We can’t ALL be perfect, after all!) He is normally quite in charge of which doors to open; why, when and how long are all part of his well-oiled job description that he does so well, we’re usually not even aware he’s on the job.  But, he is…most days. 

But today, ALL the doors got opened; every project on the planet has entered and OVERWHELMINGNESS just dropped in!

What to do?!

I know many wives and Moms who will smile when they read this and their every husband and teenager will groan.  But the truth must prevail.  Enter, the almighty list/ plan.  But before you run out the door screaming in your ‘jammies, hear me out.

The solution wasn’t needed yesterday because the little guy, what’s-his-name was awake.  So what does that really mean, in terms of the fog, the overwhelmingness that leaves us in park mode for hours, sometimes days?  How do we wake up the poor little snoozer?

You don’t need to ‘cause he’ll be awake before you know it, (we all need a nap!).  And secondly - you are more than capable of doing his job for a little while; after all, you hired him, remember?  Oh yeah.

His job is complex, yes, but doable, manually – in the short term anyway. Get out a paper and pencil – or fire up the old Gateway on your office desk and pull up a new Word doc.  Here goes…

The LIST

--Start jotting down the names of all those projects that are running around in your brain playing overwhelmingness with your brain cells; write those suckers down in a list – one by one.  I know, they are hard to find ‘cause they’re moving too fast, but stick to it for a few minutes – you’ll catch a glimpse – one by one.

--Okay, when they are ALL accounted for, down on the LIST, chase those suckers ALL back out their doors and re-lock those guys out from the inside!  Remember that you’re on manual control for now, till what’s-his-name wakes up from his snooze – which usually doesn’t last long. It’s a hard job, running around your mind, locking doors, but, the highlight of this cure is – it works! And don’t be too hard on what’s-his-name when he wakes up; if it wasn’t for him, you’d be doing this 24/7!

Now – the other 4-letter word, plan.  Yes!  A plan.  This isn’t rocket science; what’s-his-name does this 24/7, remember?  That’s how you can manage to pick up the kids after school, run one to basketball practice while you text your wife who’s picking up your boss’s wife for dinner while you plan to pick up your other kid from the store where you asked him to get the dessert for dinner.  Oh yeah, and then you’ll put the garbage out for the trash guys before bed, call your co-worker with the final outline for the 10 am PowerPoint you’ll finish before breakfast! Get the picture? 

The PLAN

--Start prioritizing the names on your new list.  This is the hard part.  But keep in mind that what’s-his-name will pick up these pieces in a little while; your task at hand is simply to make a general plan. 

--When that plan is to the point that you can’t seem to get it any better than it is, please take notice of your brain fog, your overwhelmingness…it will be just about cleared – cleared enough that you can close the septic tank cover, go inside, eat a few chocolates, turn on your favorite CD and start your day.  You will soon notice that the sun really does shine in and on your little life and that your little life…is pretty special!

--One more item: you will now plan to pat what’s-his-name on the back when he wakes up, plan to buy him a box of chocolates on the way home from work next week – in between the cleaners and the grocery store.  Getting overwhelmed that you’ll forget?  NOT TO WORRY; what’s-his-name will remind you; that’s his job and he does it well!  Most times.  Like I said, no one is perfect; remove that nasty word from the list AND the plan.

Don’t forget the chocolates.

As always, Nature prevails, even in the deepest recesses of our brain.

National Chicken Trails: Free The Prisoners...

Found this informative article - great news to millions of caged chickens in our nation who never get any semblance of appreciation for putting breakfast on our tables.  Now, though not a complete chase the birds out to play, this movement truly builds a solid beginning for more humane chicken-care for more than a few, very hard working hens among us.

http://www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2012/02/the-state-of-the-chicken/253596/?google_editors_picks=true

Check out the chicken sites online; the 'keeping of city chickens' is a solidly growing movement across our nation.  You will be amazed at the cities that are bending to the pressure from an increasing number of people who want fresh eggs to supplement their grocery store filled fridges - not to mention the learning and enjoyment garnered from chicken-keeping.

Chickens rock!

As always...Nature prevails.

Trails of Greener Grasses

Is the grass really greener on the other side of the fence?  Sometimes, I wonder...

Have you ever noticed the cows and horses as you drive along the road, leaning hard over the fence to eat the green grass on the outside edge of the fence - most times when that same green grass covers their expansive pastures...inside their fences?

Through my younger years, I thought the reasons might include foul-tasting sub-irrigation in the pastures or inappropriate crops, etc.  But, with aging, it occurred to me that we mammals on planet earth have numerous similarities, one being that the grass sometimes does seem to taste a bit better...on the far side of the fence. Looking inside my heart, I realized I too, overlook my many blessings.

-Family that travel 2 hours to visit me when I can't go the whole distance
-Friends that meet me to not only share their lives but to delve into my journey and it's travails and high spots of the week
-Children that smile and share hugs and warmth of heart and mind
-A little house that consistently cocoons me from storms and wind and the eyes of the world
-A little red car that still purrs down the road -even with 360,000 long and weary miles under her cute little hood
-A spouse whose halo continually and Lovingly absorbs and understands my north wind personality that sometimes, forgets to respect sunshine, seasons, and the differences within human nature
-Possessions that allow for abundant crafting and clothing and filling of my unending myriad of daily hungers, needs and desires
-Living in a country that - though far from perfect, still allows my free travel within its boundaries, provides mostly good roads on which to move about, still provides a fairly safe environment within which I can walk my neighborhood at night with minimum fear, and within which there are any number and types of public parks and conservation areas to enjoy Nature's unlimited wonder and soul-filling beauty. The list, given adequate thought and intent, is more fit for a book-series than a small blog post.

We don't often bump into this notion of blessings until life gives us a slap and we are then forced into the moment.  Maybe your partner, family member or friend is hospitalized or facing a deadly or life-altering disease.  Maybe your job or spouse leave you alone. Maybe the water heater died; maybe you're having one of those moany-groany days when life seems skewed and foggy, your aches and pains kept you awake last night and -of all the possible things that could happen to you, the mail is late!

No matter the cause, standing still enough to face our blessings, feeds us in a manner nothing else can.  It costs nothing - yet fills our emotional bank account to overflowing. It energizes our heart and mind as no caffeinated drink ever hoped.  Blessings fill us with gratitude, warm our hearts and soul, work the smile muscles instead of the frown ones, lower our blood pressure and pulse rate, connect with endorphins and just plain make us satisfied...at least for a little while.

My thoughtful and profound friend mentioned today that..."Moments are forever!"  That said, spend a few moments today to tally your inventory; spend those moments embracing the positives in your world.

-Watch a bird sing its song on a fencepost - and be grateful for your vision and hearing
-Listen to the wind in the trees - and be grateful for your home
-Watch the evening news - and be grateful your address doesn't include Afghanistan
-Walk the perimeter of your property - and be grateful that walk isn't occurring under a cold and lonely bridge
-Call your child, your friend, your neighbor...and be grateful you are still alive.
 -Look up at the stars later this evening, consider the awesome wonder that is our universe

Nature prevails..all over and around our lives.

Writer Trails: Tyrannosaurus Rex, Bradbury Flavor

As a sci-fi aficionado, my nose may occasionally be found welded inside an old, yellowed paperback copy of Isaac Asimov's "The Great SF Stories 14".  'Early' this morning, as I savored the taste of several of Asimov's better short story choices, "The Sound of Thunder" came to life in my old and tired brain.  For a few minutes, I wasn't quite so old and tired - thanks to Ray Bradbury's knack for pulling readers through his tall tales! Enjoy the excerpt below.

"It came on great, oiled, resilient striding legs. It towered thirty feet above half of the trees, a great evil god, folding its delicate watchmaker's claws close to its oily reptilian chest. Each lower leg was a piston, a thousand pounds of white bone, sunk in thick ropes of music, sheathed over in a gleam of pebbled skin like the mail of a terrible warrior. Each thigh was a ton of meat, ivory, and steel mesh. And from the great breathing cage of the upper body those  two delicate arms dangled out front, arms with hands from which might pick up and examine men like toys, while the snake neck coiled. And the head itself, a ton of sculptured stone, lifted easily upon the sky.  Its mouth gaped, exposing a fence of teeth like daggers. Its eyes rolled, ostrich eggs, empty of all expression save hunger. It closed its mouth in a death grin. It ran, its pelvic bones crushing aside trees and bushes, its taloned feet clawing damp earth, leaving prints six inches deep wherever it settled its weight. It ran with a gliding ballet step, far too poised and balanced for its ten tons. It moved into a sunlit arena warily, its beautifully reptillian hands feeling the air."

Oh but to be a fly on the geological wall as Pangaea was moving around on a malleable earth crust and  animals of sizes beyond our worst nightmares, roamed the planet. To be able to watch our planet as Nature took her through her different phases...asteroids landing in the arctic, the tropics and other places; ice ages growing and then melting as oceans ebbed and waned, swallowing up shorelines and then leaving bare continental shelves as the temperatures plummeted...for centuries!  Would we learn from such fantasian knowledge?  Would we build a better society?

Maybe these questions are better left to talented writers who roam through an easier world of make-believe...with realistic overtones. Today, we can instead, read National Geographic articles about the ancient geologic epochs and merely 'consider' this information.

I can attest to the fact that it WAS very comforting - at 2 AM, to know I could put my book on the night table, turn off the light and sleep safely through the  remaining hours of the dark-time.

Thank you Mr. Bradbury, for your talent, your vision and your imagination.

As always...Nature prevails, particularly, sixty-million years ago!

...Was that the sound of thunder?

THIS IS NOT MY POST!!!! HOW CAN SOMEOME GET INTO MY SPACE HERE ????!! ISN"T THIS PASSWORD PROTECTED? HOW DO I CHANGE MR PASSWORD?? Danielle Simone

In the early moments of humankind’s scientific awakenings, an eclipse – solar or lunar, might have created serious fear.  Here in the sky, something big and different, above their heads, may have sent early humans into hiding.  Maybe not.

But today, we understand eclipses – at least mostly, and look forward to their occurrences as an expected and exciting phenomenon that surely does not threaten our existence.  Rather, it heightens our knowledge, awareness and emotions.  And most likely creates just a few photo shoots of varying results. Tomorrow, December 10^th will host a total Lunar Eclipse for parts of the western hemisphere.

According to the site http://kaleidoscope.cultural-china.com/en/10Kaleidoscope640.html, “Ancient Chinese recorded 2,000 lunar eclipses, including 400 total eclipses. Outside China the earliest records of solar eclipses were found in the ruins of ancient Babylon, and the earliest solar eclipse among the six records took place in 911 BC.  Yet in China the earliest record of solar eclipse, found in the inscriptions on bones and tortoise shells unearthed at the Yin ruins, was in 1200 BC, nearly 300 years earlier than the ancient Babylon record and more than 600 years earlier than the first record of solar eclipse in Europe. The Spring and Autumn Annals compiled by Confucius recorded 37 solar eclipses in 244 years, and 32 of them have been proved reliable.”

S. J. Johnson in the journal Observatory, 1888, stated that a Lunar Eclipse was recorded in Annales Cambriae in AD 690.  http://adsabs.harvard.edu/full/1888Obs....11..340J

Tomorrow, being a Saturday may prevent some late risers from joining the observant multitudes who will usher in this incredible astronomical event.  But for the rest of us, lets get to bed early tonight and set our alarm clocks in time to observe yet another of Nature’s fantastic performances. The eclipse begins about 4:45 AM PST; we'll be out there about 4:30 AM...just in case.

Nature Prevails!

Chicken Trails: The Pupalotte Kids

Hasty Acres introduces the 5 day old, Pupalotte kids - all 25 of them! Nature, in its tiny, fluffy stage.

-The Pupalottes are little bundles of energy with growing wing feathers, some just a little, a few - over half already!
-The Pupalottes already flap their little wings fervently as they jump/fly short distances.
-The Pupalotte personalities are developing; l'tle Ms. Pupalotte, pale yellow with teeny black spots, is my fav; she sits quietly on my arm and seems to enjoy her head and chin rubs.
-Most of the black Pupalottes, the cockerels, are more flighty, less touchable.
-A few of these black Pupalottes quickly peck at my finger if its close to them, while the others are more approachable.


More Pupalottes on the way; Hasty Acres awaits...

Nature prevails.

Chicken Trails: Welcome, Little Peeps...

Had someone told me years ago that I would entertain the fascination I do for little critters of the feathered flavor, it would have been my best joke of the day.  But Yesterday when our little balls of fluff arrived, it truly brightened my spirit, my day, my month! as it always does. DH and I fussed and doted for about 2 hours till completely convinced that the heat lamps were perfectly placed; that the water had just a touch of sugar for the first few hours; that they seemed settled in and happy; that they were all cuddled several times; that every detail of their amazing little bodies was discussed and absorbed! 

My order stated 8 Easter Egger pullets and 2 Cockerels.  For warmth reasons (to my surprise) the hatchery added 15 Cockerels of unknown type.  I'm guessing they are some sort of sex-linked or possibly Maran variety judging from the spotted heads and dark greyish black feathering. They will make many meals ahead.  If they are Marans, I'll keep 1 or 2; it is my understanding so far in my research that adding the dark chocolate variety to the Easter Egger gene pool will produce olive eggs - a nice addition to the color palette in the egg cartons!

Easter Egg birds (who come from Ameraucana crossings) have beautiful, varied colored feathering, never quite the same with each new addition.  Laying mostly egg color variations of blue, greenish or pink, these adorable creatures are an interesting endeavor.

This group came from Ideal Poultry in Texas; these are by far, the calmest yet liveliest birds we've owned; easily handled, not jumpy.   Did I mention they are almost as cute as newborn kitties?!

Meyer Hatchery is sending 15 more next week. Visit here for updates as the flock grows.

“We can see a thousand miracles around us every day. What is more supernatural than an egg yolk turning into a chicken?”  S. Parkes Cadman

As always...Nature prevails, in my chicken coop tonight.

Trails of Kindness: A Special Glass of Milk

I received an e-mail today, one of those that circle around with embellished tales of Love and kindness that put a tear to the eye and tip our daily spiritual bank accounts a little toward the ‘full’ side.  Today, I followed this e-mail through Snopes.com and found its basis to be even more ‘filling’ than the embellished tale, itself.

The e-mail reads:

Glass of Milk

One day, a poor boy who was selling goods from door to door to pay his way through school, found he had only one thin dime left, and he was hungry.

He decided he would ask for a meal at the next house. However, he lost his nerve when a lovely young woman opened the door.

Instead of a meal he asked for a drink of water! . She thought he looked hungry so brought him a large glass of milk.

He drank it so slowly, and then asked, How much do I owe you?"

You don't owe me anything," she replied. "Mother has taught us never to accept pay for a kindness."

He said ... "Then I thank you from my heart."

As Howard Kelly left that house, he not only felt stronger physically, but his faith in God and man was strong also. He had been ready to give up and quit.

Many years later that same young woman became critically ill. The local doctors were baffled. They finally sent her to the big city, where they called in specialists to study her rare disease.

Dr. Howard Kelly was called in for the consultation. When he heard the name of the town she came from, a strange light filled his eyes.

Immediately he rose and went down the hall of the hospital to her room.

Dressed in his doctor's gown he went in to see her. He recognized her at once.

He went back to the consultation room determined to do his best to save her life. From that day he gave special attention to her case.

After a long struggle, the battle was won.

Dr. Kelly requested the business office to pass the final bill to him for approval. He looked at it, then wrote something on the edge, and the bill was sent to her room. She feared to open it, for she was sure it would take the rest of her life to pay for it all. Finally she looked, and something caught her attention on the side of the bill. She read these words ...

"Paid in full with one glass of milk"

(Signed) Dr. Howard Kelly.

Snopes.com has a touching and true short biography review on Dr.  Howard Kelly which you can read through the above link.  According to Snopes:

• Though Dr. Kelly was never destitute, he did give over half of his services, free, to those who were.
• Thought Dr. Kelly did not save the sick woman from a rare disease, his charity to her and all of the above-mentioned non-paying clients seems rare in today’s world of me, me, and more me.
• Though, coming from a wealthy family, Dr. Kelly was not selling items door to door to pay for schooling, he was on a Nature walk when he received his pivotal glass of milk.

Sometimes we are annoyed and irritated by the plethora of ‘pass it on’ e-mails that clog our in-boxes through the days.  And I wonder sometimes if many of them are even worth the time it takes to read them. 

Yet, once in awhile, they give us a peek into the special parts of other lives, that indeed become – at least for a few minutes in our hectic worlds…’the wind beneath our wings’.

As always...Nature prevails.

Fireside Trails: A Pink Event

Pink is not necessarily prevelent in Oris George's life, since he does not like the color! But today, Mr. George inadvertently created a 'pink event' in his life.

Sometimes, Mr. and Mrs. Oris enjoy an evening near their wood stove, reminiscing by the fire, sharing donkey memories and re-reading one of Oris' special stories, A Man by the Side of the Road (one of my favorites). And sometimes, Oris' camera gives him even more memories...

It was on one of these chilly evenings that Oris took these photos.  His talent is awesome, and helps us prepare for the cold, winter months ahead.

                                      Photo by Oris George

Mr. George tells me these shots were taken with the glass front of the stove - closed!  I am continually stunned and in admiration of this writer and his photography talents.

"Stove is a Hearth Stone Heritage model Non-Catalytic Wood Stove with glass door.The camera is a Nikon coolpix p100 nikor 26x wide optical zoom ed vr , 4.6 120mm 1:2,8-5.0."

"I was sitting looking at the stove from an angle. I watched the blue flame dancing across the top of the logs as the gas from the logs was burning. I noticed when the flame flared...As I looked at it from the angle, it flashed a column of light that seemed to come out from the stove."

                                      Photo by Oris George



As always...Nature prevails, even in the flames of life.

Tiger Trails: The Tiger Book

Pictures of the two versions of John Vaillant's book, The Tiger, from Amazon.com

 

 The Siberian Tiger. Fast facts from National Geographic: 

• Mammal, Carnivore
• Size = 10.75 feet
• Weight = 660 pounds
• Protection status = endangered.

A new book by John Vaillant, The Tiger, gives deep insight into the mind and soul of a Siberian Tiger in Russia. A true story that will shock and sadden you and change the way you think about tigers.

This video by Vaillant explains this true thriller.

As always, Nature prevails.

The Last Hurrah: Trails of the Little Red Boat

Once upon a time, in a little town on the prairie, two young-hearted oldsters took their little red boat out on the reservoir for a last hurrah.  After all, 80 plus degrees can't last too much longer; it's October 15th!

Life is good.

The husband of this young couple, whom hereinafter shall be referred to as DH, is always so particular about packing life jackets, oars, etc., for a boat trip; he's quite the responsible knight-in-boating armor.

The doting wife of this couple, whom hereinafter shall be referred to as DW, also embraces a responsible approach to life; she's been spotted wearing her life vest while cleaning the boat in the driveway.

But, I digress. Back to the big pond.

DW gets into the little red ship.  As they happily begin their putt-putting away from the dock, DH mentions...’Aahhhh, DW, 'I think the oars...are missing.' 

Hmmm, said DW, we do live so close, only two miles to the garage...as she basked in the warm glow of the fall afternoon sun from a puff-filled sky.  Her cheeks were dusted by an ever-so-soft breeze off the surrounding, calm, cool water.  She glanced over at DH, his glazed-over eyes resembling those of a hunter lost in the bowels of a Bass-Pro Shop...the week before antelope season.

Life is good.

They shared deep, abiding thoughts...

'The motor always purrs like a kitten, why would today be any different, right?'

"RIGHT!"

'We only have about an hour before sunset, right?' 

"RIGHT!" 

'We checked Weather Bug so we're assured there will be no wind or storms for the rest of the day, right?'

"RIGHT!"

By now, the responsible oldsters had putt-putted to the middle of the big pond on the prairie and DW was deep into a photo shoot, logging picture after picture as she daydreamed of National Geographic awards for her surely priceless, back side shots of the one-and-only John Martin Dam.

Life is very good.

Grebes were popping in and out of the pond, Pelicans scattered here, there and yon; the paradise effect of the last hurrah was reaching toxic proportions. So DH headed the putt-putt west, leaned heavily on the throttle and the oldsters were off, flying down the full length of the pond...

Life was more gooder!

DW has a lovely friend from up north whose psychic abilities are renowned state-wide.  She had sent DW a touching message earlier in the day, but DW...had forgotten; it was the farthest thought from her mind:

"Sometimes we have to live through the valleys and experience the mist beneath the falls, to remember the magnificent views from the top."

Just in case your story-reading skills are a tad rusty, try to keep in mind that this quote is the pivotal point of this little tale of the oldster's last hurrah...

Back to the pond.

DW says to DH; "Oh Love of my long life, could we pretty please stop in front of the Point Campground so I can have one more stunning shot of the gorgeous cliffs below for my upcoming sale to National Geographic?"

DH - deep in his boater-in-shining-armor mode, quickly obliged and the putt-putt stopped.   

Silence grew gentle and warm around the oldsters.  A moment of all moments. In the distance, flowing across the water…bird sounds reverberated from the cliffs, ducks flew gracefully about overhead, and the sun rays hugged and warmed their firm, shiny skin.  The water was still, the camera worked. 

DW finished, looked at DH; there was no word to describe the magic between them.

Life is great!

After a few moments of heavenly bliss, seared into their psyches forever, DH starts the putt-putt.  Putt…nothing.  Putt...nothing, again and again and again.  Putt-putt is tired.  Putt-putt is stubborn.  Putt-putt is dead!

Life is no longer good.  In fact, life sucks!

DW looks over at DH.  No glazed-over eyes there! There was no word to describe this look.  DH looks back at DW who quickly looks back at the cliffs, and obsessively takes 97 thousand more shots! Blood pressure pills...are good...

Moments...or maybe hours pass.

"Are you sure about the oars?"

"Yes, dear Love of my life, this little ship is pretty small, I doubt they are hiding…"

"Shut up!"

DW - who is famous for tons of big ideas and no follow-through, gets the bright idea of wrapping her hand through straps of the firm, spare seat flotation device to fashion an oar, and begins to paddle. 

"Faster, faster," goads DH, "the sun is almost down and it'll be dark soon!"

"Shut up!"

Before long, magic being magic, things began to change.

"It is so quiet and gorgeous right here, right now," whispers DW.

"Indeed it is," agrees DH.  The oldsters relaxed and Nature surrounded them.  Their hearts and souls soaked up the beauty of the big pond, on a luscious fall day, in southeast Colorado.

After some time had passed, DH began to murmur sweet nothings to his little buddy putt-putt and before long, putt-putt came alive again! The oldsters hugged and all was lovely, as they quickly putt-putted absolutely-straight-back to the dock.

Life is always more gooder...living near the big pond on the prairie. It’s the occasional valleys and mists… that can be a bit bothersome.

Nature prevails.

Trails of Time: looking OVER the hill

I ran across an article from a prolific writer-friend of mine, Jan Verhoeff. Jan writes every day, I think perhaps - most every hour of every day. She writes well and is recognized as an expert in several areas including marketing.

But this article isn't about marketing, or writing, or even politics (one of her favorite soapboxes). Her article is about aging. And anger. Jan lost her Mom a few months ago and we have spent some hours discussing this topic.

I'm 63; oddly enough, this subject touches me deeply, and I am all too often, acutely aware of this anger she speaks about in her article.

Many years ago, I'd watch older, cranky folks and judge harshly; 'Aren't they old enough to know how to behave by now', I'd so naively think. As I said, naively; I was - then - young!

Today, I still pride myself with a generally positive attitude, mostly. But - there are those other times.

-Having one hand from birth, I prided myself in my excellent eye-hand coordination - more than double the average person's dexterity. Now, I drop more items in a day than my pride dares to admit. I often cry with frustration. And anger.

-I have always treasured my mental capacities along the years; my A's and joys with Algebra and math and all my schooling - without much effort, my ability to assay a situation almost instantly with problem-solving almost second nature. Many days now, when conversing with anyone, I find cracks in my road of thoughts and words that I quickly kid away as not sleeping well the night before, or fighting a bug, etc. White lies. And anger.

-As an animal lover and owner of many cats, a few dogs and 2 horses, I deal with their aging as well. Last year we lost 5 animals to old age; my second horse's legs gave out from arthritis and she finally laid down in her corral, unable to get back on her feet...one last time. One dog succumbed to her aging heart, another to her aging legs. One cat lost her ability to eat; my last 2 cats are slowly, painfully ambling about, one losing her fight to renal failure, the other going deaf and blind. My heart breaks, over and again, more times than I recall. I deal with deep anger.

Unfortunately, my aging brain works well enough to continually struggle with this dilemma. Is it fair? Why are we born to eventually die? Philosophers and theologians have bantered these questions for eons. To be reborn, to learn lessons, to teach others, to leave behind legacies, they argue, etc.

Are these reasons enough to bear the weight of aging and all its pain, struggle, loss of strength, energy, willpower, youth, etc?

I don't know; I probably never will. But regardless, we must deal with the anger and frustration. At times, I win this ongoing struggle for periods of time. I do so by writing articles like this; or by walking across John Martin Dam at sunrise and sunset; or watching a new-born kitten get it's first sea-legs; or watching my chickens give their all to catching an energetic grasshopper as though their entire being rested on their success.

Jan writes; "They didn't choose to grow old, it was forced upon them." This is so true.

So maybe one way to bridge this anger can be found in the moments of life. I find that I am most angry when I am comparing what I used to do with what occurs now. In my list above, I notice that being in a moment, surpasses that anger, allows for an influx of Love and beauty and of participation in Nature's insatiable need for beauty.

I agree with Jan; age is forced on each and every creature that breathes (and even the parts of Nature that don't; erosion of rocks, mountains, etc). And it does create anger.

But sometimes, I can become parts of moments; I can create them or enjoy those of others. Yes, age is forced on us. But we don't have to constantly carry that load.

Sometimes...we can look the other way...

Nature prevails.

TRAILS OF NATURE; Everywhere

Nature is everywhere, and everyone has a unique relationship with the universe around them. Some are satisfied with the morning sun shining next to their coffee cup through the window of their 17th floor apt in New York City. Others crave the danger and interaction with Nature on the slopes of Mt. Everest. Some people can not kill an ant, their respect and awe of Nature is so complete and pervasive. One way or another, most of us interact with Nature, even if only to shovel the snow from our sidewalks or shake the rain from our coats.

Whatever your relationship with Nature, the point is – you have one, as Nature IS the air we breathe, the land we walk upon, the food we eat, the breezes in our trees and the sunshine that begins and ends our days – whether we see it or not.

My connection with Nature includes a deeper than physical relationship; I doubt I will ever be capable of explaining it succinctly, but this connection includes the need to share it.

Nature’s power is obvious through her volcanoes, tsunamis and plate tectonics, while the awe of her beauty is clear through her sunsets, sunrises and wildlife. Life – its origins, evolution and oddities, both on Earth and throughout the universe, are complex, and in reality – still new and unexplored by humanity.

What are your thoughts about Nature? Do you dream of the future flight of the Condor and the Eagle, as told in Incan prophecy? Do you ski through snow-laden slopes? Do you revel in the coolness and buoyancy of her waters through an early morning swim? Do you enjoy the laughter and innocence of children through your day-care services? Or is your passion exercised through chasing tornadoes for your weather related position at NOAA. All questions, concerns or comments will be addressed; let’s explore and share the trails of Nature.

As always, Nature prevails.

NATURE PREVAILS

No matter how far you travel from home , nature prevails.

Whether you study the comeback of an endangered species or patrol your park on your morning run as a park ranger, keep up the grounds in your summer seasonal city park position, dig up fossils for your next book on Dinosaurs, head your scout troop on a trek through the high Sierras, film a documentary on volcanoes at Mauna Loa in Hawaii, take rafters down the Colorado River, pick up trash along the road, drive semis long haul, fly emergency supplies to a hurricane-struck New Orleans or serve on a search and rescue ski patrol, Nature is your guide, your worst enemy and your avenue of travel. There is no avoiding Nature in this Universe; she is everywhere, everytime, everyplace…so long as we continue to breathe her air.

Accepting Nature in her complete attire takes understanding of her pervasiveness, acceptance of her power and our minute position in that schematic, as well as preparedness for her more grand gestures such as frigid temps, high winds and tsunamis. Nature is high-maintenance; boating in the afternoon sunshine under gentle breezes may evolve into a powerful thunderstorm in a matter of minutes, packing tornadic winds and killer lightning. Skiing down an expensive, blemish-free slope in the high mountains may instantly turn into a life and death avalanche. Basking innocently on a beach in India may be your last vacation as you realize the ocean that just rose 100 feet in front of you leaves you no avenue of escape. Living at the base of a volcanoe may end your life.

Nature also warms us, quenches our thirst, provides our food, calms us with her breezes, protects us from the ravages of space, keeps our feet planted firmly on the ground we call home, and most certainly provides the profound air that keeps our lungs inflated and our heart pumping.

Nature watched over the microbes as they blossomed into life in our oceans four million years ago, she applied her creativity as she continually rearranged her continents into their ever-evolving shapes and positions, she cried over the millions of lives lost during the history of wars, she surely smiled with pride as her myriad forms of life rebounded on Earth after thousands of years of planetary disasters.

Nature surrounds us in the vegetables of our gardens, the butterflies on our flowers, the breezes in the trees under which we rest on a hot afternoon; she brings us peace and relaxation as we enjoy the tapping of a gentle summer rain on a tin roof; she certainly feeds our soul through the gentle hug of a friend as we mourn a Loved one.

Embrace Nature in your life. Help a turtle across the road; separate your recyclable items; plant a tree; leave your car parked once in awhile and walk. Look around occasionally and count your natural blessings. You’ll improve your blood pressure, slow down your heart rate, bring a little peace into your soul…bring joy into your life.

As always, Nature prevails.

daniellesimone@centurytel.net

Winter Trails; the 'fabric of our lives'

Winter snows howl outside today. As I sit by the window, gazing through the blowing snowflakes to the far away thoughts inside my cozy brain, it seems it's the small things - the everyday, 'no biggie', collection of on-going moments, that seem to fill me. I used to believe the big events were the 'markers' of life...getting married, climbing the social and professional ladders, getting a raise. But are these bigger events really as important as the tiny parts of life that grease the gears of our 'every-days'?

When a loved one passes, what is it that comprises 'the memories' we so treasure. Is it..the way they smiled when they tried to hold back from telling about a secret gift? Or the way their eyes looked just before they said 'I'm sorry'? Or was it their particular walk that you watched for years as they left for work? How about their yen to take off fishing every Sunday morning? It used to annoy you, you wanted more time with them...then. How did their hug linger, the smell of their perfume, the toss of their head and the shine of their hair?

Yesterday, you were planning your vacation, your new move, the big party at Christmas, the "rest of your life." Tomorrow, your health may change, disease may creep in, and time will not stand still; it never does. What then, of your tomorrows? My dear Colorado friend always says..."T.C.! Things change."

Weave carefully, the fabric of your life. Choose the thread, gather it with forethought, add many colors, tie knots in the lose ends, wear it with reverence.

Nature is sunlight and sadness, growth and grief, forethought and forgetfulness, birth and death.

TODAY

"Possess this day with awe and caring.
It is a gift given quickly and only once;
Stain it not with tears of regret.

Look to yesterday with reverence,
For it is a teacher - a wise one,
A pathway for tomorrow, a memory, a vision.

Tomorrow is also a vision, but without substance.
It is a dream, a wish, a story - yet to be told,
A feeling waiting to be birthed.

Yesterday passes,
Tomorrow waits;
Ah...but for today."

Danielle Simone
1983
(copyright, 1991)

Nature prevails.

Sunset Trails; A Song of Life

Bridge Across Forever

There's a time for many seasons,
Many songs, and lovely names.
Feelings strong and spirits empty,
Who will ever know we came.





















As the day begins to nighttime,
As the stars fall into view.
Are we now...or are we ever,
Is this old, or very new.
Take my hand and take me farther,
Show me lifetimes lived and gone.
Bring me closer to the future,
Oh please sing to me, your song.





















If today will last forever,
If tomorrow's never here.
Can I ever be my future,
Am I anything...I fear.
If time is but a journey,
And life is but a tear.
Will we meet in our forevers,
Doesn't anybody...hear.






















Are my dreams no more than fancy,
Are my songs a wish for time.
Can we bridge across forever,
Were you ever...really mine.
We begin and then we follow,
We grow and then we die.
Are we moments full of meaning,
Or does time...just pass us by.





There's a time for many seasons,
Many songs, and lovely names.
Feelings strong...and spirits empty,
Who will ever know we came.

Danielle Simone
written 1991
(copyright 1991)






Nature prevails.

Lunar Trails; NASA Success

Success marked NASA'S space record, yet again, a bit after 5:30 AM MDT, 9 October, 2009. 40 years after the world watched American astronauts wave at us while standing in moon dust, we've again - raised a bit more moon dust...twice, in a matter of minutes. NASA says we're checking for water, which over recent years - through many avenues, seems to be present in the polar regions, deep in dark craters. Safe from searing solar rays, it may hide intact in its frigid and undisturbed state.

I have to admit, it was a bit eerie, watching the last few seconds of video from the second craft as it approached the lunar surface at thousands of miles per second. Felt a little odd to be cheering...the demise of something so special, that made it so far - exactly as programmed.

But the end justified the means - we hope. If lunar water exists in any marked amount, our ability to use the moon in space travel will be more feasible; water is used not only for obvious reasons (thirst), but for fuel and insulation against solar damage.

Though a bit different from her earthly home, Nature prevails, thousands of miles into cold, dark, space.

Little Lamb Trails

What is it about babies that conjure up the human need to aide and assist? It is not always narrow-focused toward humans either, as anyone knows who has held a little kitten or goat or helped a new-born foal to its feet.

I’d like to continue believing, in my heart of hearts, that this ‘help’ gene we possess, is bigger than all of us combined, and surpasses all understanding. Nature is indeed bigger than all of us, while being part and parcel of not only who we are, but more importantly…who we can all become.

Ruth Schwinn, a novelist with more than her share of this ‘gene’, has a new book to offer, Henry the Lamb. A true story, Henry the Lamb is but one of many critter stories that make up life on their farm in New Jersey.

Picture by Justin Flores



“Every person should have a Henry come into their life and experience the joy of giving from the heart – giving more than you ever thought you could – and the reward that can never be matched,” says Ruth, on her website.




Don’t miss this heart-warming story of Love and life and yet- another time when Nature shines, bringing out the specialness in both man and beast.

Drop in on Henry’s website and enjoy a story…from the heart.

As always…Nature prevails.

Fall Trails; Seasons of Change

Fall is fast approaching. It's the saddest time of the year for me, thinking about all that cold sitting around the corner...waiting to descend on everything - including me!

So, I counteract this malaise by thinking SPRING thoughts.

-I am planting some Blackberry bush starts today that I received from a very kind and generous fellow 'chicken-tracker' from the Backyard Chickens forum. Thank you Russ!








-I found a nursery magazine - February, 1997 issue- where prices are ridiculously normal! (The "good-ole-days" are only a wisp of memory lately).

-I plan on digging my swimming suit out this afternoon...if I can remember where it lives since 1998 when it last endured chlorine water...

-And lastly, I peruse all my leftover chicken magazines...Murray McMurray, Cackle Hatchery and Backyard Chickens. I know, I know...people buy chicks in the SPRING! (My point, thank you!) Daydreaming is NOT overrated.

Ah yes, SPRING; all those little green things poking their stems out of the ground..birds rushing around putting their nests together with ANY little thing they can find that works.

Those big, puffy white clouds floating around with no particular plan in mind..watching the sun climb slowly higher on the horizon every morning..enjoying the increasing daylight moments.

















What is your favorite season? Is it the quiet, cozy feel of winter, the rush of spring, the warm, balmy days of summer or the frantic, dying days of fall? We'd enjoy hearing your comments.

Remember to take Nature into your life; watch a sunrise over a lake, or a thunderstorm coming over the horizon; enjoy the geese as they fly their perfect "V's" overhead, take the time to watch a line of ants do their amazing work - with such a tiny brain, extend your hand for a weary butterfly.



Most of all, "feel" Nature as you walk through your garden or dash through a rain shower or shovel into a snowdrift. Keep Nature close to your heart, your soul - soak in her energy, balance, her beauty and strength.

Know and appreciate her seasons for the uniqueness they provide, the learning and lessons.

Nature prevails.