TRAIL'S END; maybe

A dear friend lost his Mother this past week. In passing conversation, my writer-friend and I exchanged the thought of his Mom still being here through the many stories he writes about his childhood and the other stories of his youth that he shares occasionally. Personally, I find this thought, consoling. I recently celebrated the 11th year of my Mother's departure, so death and life and all it's complexities continue to rattle around the corners of my mind this month. Several questions thread through these philosophical ramblings.

1. Do our Loved ones truly live on in our memories? Or is this wishful thinking? Is that crocheted doily of My Mom's that I so treasure, really her still in my life, or a ghostly representation? She bought the thread, she spent the effort and talent for its creation; it would not exist without her existence.

2. Are we physical beings, having an occasional spiritual experience along our lives, or vice versa? The latter leaves many open questions about our passing while the former presupposes a predetermined continuing of one sort or another. It surely makes for sweeter dreams when we go to sleep each night believing that a greater place than our physical lives, awaits our immortal soul.

3. Is this the only time we live in a physical body, or do we pass through this life more than once? Many written words suggest that we get more than one chance to learn our worldly lessons in preparation for a higher level of existence. If so, are we always a human, or do we take our chances as other animals as well?

In Nature, everything is recycled. And we know scientifically that we humans share many of the same ingredients that make up our surrounding world. For example, our veggie scraps live on to feed the compost pile - which feeds our garden - which sooner or later makes it back to the table - and again to the continuing compost pile. Is the garden...a veggie's idea of heavenly bliss? Maybe not.

Back to my friend. As a staunch believer in a hereafter, I sensed a peace in his voice when he spoke of his Mother's passing, as opposed to panic or overwhelming sadness. And as for missing his Mother, I know he will. I've listened past the words in his stories of his youth; his Mother and family are threaded through, around and inside every story he has - and still will write. And through these stories, I too have grown to sense a bit of who his Mother was through her quoted words, the ways he responded to those words, the gentleness with which he has described her on numerous occasions. So in some ways, I too, will miss his Mother.

In my heart of hearts, I guess I believe that we leave behind parts of ourselves in the crocheted doilies we create; or the certain twinkle we recognize - though not as our own, in the mirror each morning; or the memories of our Loved one's peculiar ways they behaved or a special way they Loved us.

My friend told me; 'This evening as I was bringing in the stove wood for the night, I could hear her again telling me when I was a boy, "When are you going to learn to fill the woodbox before dark." '

Yes, I believe we live on, in one form or another...or maybe in many different ways. I know my friend experienced that belief as he fed his wood stove last night.

As always, Nature prevails.

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.

Math Trails; a game of numbers

I chuckled as I read my friend's post on her dislike of Algebra. Gosh, I thought, how can someone NOT enjoy Algebra!? It's the neatest game since Tinker toys. Then, my famous, solitary attempt with Calculus...slowly crept into my brain - painfully. (It's amazing how fast that proverbial pedestal can crumble when you look it in the eye.)

Indeed, math is all about how it fits for your particular brain. A whiz in Algebra, I did well my first two weeks in Calculus; after all, it's really all about Algebra, right? For the beginning, yes. Then, slowly, painfully, the word limits appeared on the new chapter page. My mathematical whizzing...whizzed right out the door! Stress entered my life - in a new color called OVERWHELMED! The next 14 weeks were a constant struggle, filled with hours of re-reading chapter explanations, numerous trips to the prof's office, three page-long problems and a hired tutor, who yawned through most of my teary sessions. (Poor guy).

So, that said, I now empathize with my friend, and we do occasional Algebra problems together.

If you are struggling with Algebra, there are free resources available. The easiest I've encountered is a website called Purple Math. (I Love purple!) The folks at Purple Math (they even have a forum), not only have the clearest, most simplistic explanations I've seen anywhere, but they offer free help, too.

But this is a Nature blog, you mention; how is Nature involved in math? Well, maybe it's not exactly her cup of tea. But the key here is, to understand certain parts of Nature, math is a golden key.

To set up the perfect trajectories for space flight, Calculus rules. The concept of limits I mentioned before, is the basis for formulating these trajectories. I'll bet the Astronauts are REALLY glad their counterparts at the consoles in the NASA control centers did their homework!

When you begin a new addition to your horse barn, the Geometry you may have struggled through, lets you arrange triangles on the ground (the 3, 4, 5 kind), to assure your foundations are straight and squared correctly.

The measurements you hated to figure out in math, now help you make a perfect bread recipe.

And the conversions you dealt with, taking inches to centimeters, now give you the tools necessary to interpret sewing and wood-working patterns.

To function in Nature, to understand her complexities and to be able to move through the world she provides, math is an invaluable partner, tried and true. It will not forsake you; its formulas are precise and their perfection supports your correct decisions through many of Nature's problems.

So now I smile with a bit more understanding for my friend. Besides, she's extremely intelligent, and has several mathy friends; she'll do well in her Algebra homework. When she explains the technicalities of creating a website - I cry! She's an awesome writer, too.

If you have Algebra headaches, check out the Purple Math website. They know their stuff over there and more importantly, they have a knack for simplicity, the key (IMO), to understanding any math.

Nature prevails.

Chicken Trails in the Sunset

Our beautiful, productive girls rode off into the sunset tonight. But not too far. Just next door, helping to entertain - and feed - two lovely young teenage girls...and their parents. We heard they were already named...before they entered their new pen!



Goodbyes were sad but understandable, since they have a great home, other pretties to relate with, and we can visit.





This third year with our girls was the most productive, though they always more than earned their keep. But for some reason, only known to them, our six pretties gave 4 to 6 eggs a day - regularly, all summer long. Bless their generous egg-laying hearts.



Our pets won't make us breakfast any more, but they will continue on with their egg-laying careers.






Goodbye pretties. May Nature watch over your chicken trails with Love and caring.

Nature prevails.

Butterfly Trails; 11 Years and Counting

My mother died 11 years ago today. Among the many things which occurred during those few horrendous weeks following this trauma, was the purchase of a tall candle; my intent was to light it each Oct 18, to commemorate, remember, forgive...heal.

Each year, I remembered as October approached...and remembered again...at the end of the month. By the 3rd or so year of this nonsense, it occurred to me that I wasn't fond of the game my mind was playing, so I tried harder - to be more 'punctual'.

By the 6th year, I caught on; my subconscious was just not ready to face the unpleasant reality it had endured.

Last year, I reunited with my sister, following an 11 year hiatus, birthed from the turmoil of pain and anger during those ensuing months, 11 years ago. She and I have shared a growing year, filled with learning and forgiveness and the rearranging of a few of my memories. Interesting...how memories sometimes have the convenient power to arrange themselves in the most 'comfortable' places. Stress...may not be the forte of the human subconscious.

So, here it is - today, the 18th of October. 11 years ago, our Mommy said her goodbyes to her children in the 'comfort' of her living room. We all were there, around her bed, comforting her; holding her hands, wiping her forehead, carefully marking the clock for pain meds, attempting to deal with the horribly painful human trauma of death and separation.

Today...is a 'different' year. Today, my sister and I spoke about butterflies instead of separation; Love instead of anger; memories, instead of loss. Today, during the numerous passes by her candle with it's 'eternal' flame, Mommy and I shared words, feelings, memories...healing.

I'm not sure I understand the 'meaning' of life or what pre or pro-cedes our physical time spent here. But my Love and attention to 50 some years of Nature, assures me that life always pre and pro-cedes as it should. Fierce and sometimes lethal thunderstorms bring new growth to the Earth and life-giving water. The sometimes dangerous Sun, gives warmth and light. Death is a part of life, a part of the natural cycle of the planet we call home.

Today I commemorate Mommy. I salute Nature and life...and Love...and healing. This 11th year, I remember...and hug my memories, instead of my pain.

As always, 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.