If Earth grew old the way people do,
she would look like an early winter morning.
Brilliant yellows and reds, dusted silver grey;
purple and brown grasses bowed and aged with hoarfrost;
dark evergreen with a tinge of white,
and balding hills salted at the temples.
Even the quiet calm that comes with the wisdom of age
is amplified on cold, foggy mornings.
Reverence steals a frosty breath
as willowy grey haired ghosts loom large in the haze.
But Earth is an outrageous Crone,
wise and salty.
She rejoices in her years
and glorifies age with laughter and birdsong.
In spring, she will highlight her hair with shades of green
disguise her laugh lines in garlands of flowers
and apply blush in wisps of cloud.
In summer, Earth will stay up later than grownups;
rising early with the sun
and twirling to heavensong under the adoring gaze of the moon.
And in fall, she will costume herself in glorious color
and entertain Indian Summer on cool evenings;
and shiver, ever so gently,
until trees spread confetti on her paths
Such is the wisdom of Earth,
to be ancient, in timeless and ageless ways.
Lisa Butler 2002
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Tongariro
Our campsite woke foggy and hungry. Cold leftover Thai and hot showers to start the day, yum! The odd trees looked even more Seuss-like sticking above the fog. The odd colored birds added to the mystique.
As we drove south, we became aware that corrugated steel is not just a building material. It is also a decorative option, good for colorful sineage, and many more uses. In fact, even entire buidings shaped like sheep and dogs can be made from corrugated steel.
We gradually worked our way to Taupo, a moderate sized town on the eastern edge of Lake Taupo. Our goal was a hike, aka tramp, in Tongariro National Park. We checked the iSite for options after a stop at the “Super Loo,” a coin operated man/woman room. It was such a fancy coin-op bathroom it was noteworthy.
We settled on a hiking plan after only two stops, one at the Taupo iSite and another 20K down the road at Turangi. The plan involved entering the park and driving up to Whakapapa village, one of the two ski areas on the north island. We had considered a tramp called the Tongariro Crossing but it was a 7-hour, one-way hike. Alice offered to drive to meet us at the other end but we decided it was too long and would take up some of our precious time with Alice. The short walk was a 1 ½ hour loop to Waitonga falls, a 39 m waterfall.
Mt. Tongariro is a volcano in the middle of the north island. Beside it is Mt. Ngauruhoe (which I still can’t pronounce), and Mt. Ruapehu. I’m not sure when tngariro and Ngauruhoe were last active but Ruapehu last erupted in September of this year while skiiers were still on the mountain. Needless to say, the landscape was one step off lunar with lavabeds as a base. Foliage was sparse other than the beech forest along the riverbed. Ruapehu itself was still snow capped though our views of all three volcanos were limited by dense cloud cover. We did manage to get a few glimpses of the Whakapapa ski area which we mistook for Turoa, the only other ski area.
Waitonga falls was amazing. Little did we know it was just a taste of what was to come later in the trip. We came to the top of the falls first. There were rocks to walk above the falss and the view was dizzying looking at the wate dropping away. A long staicase took us to the bottom of the falls and its lovely aqua pool.
This walk was our first introduction to the trails in NZ. Their trail maintenance is incredible. Diversion berms are made with wood sides and open tops for cleaning. A trench is often dug down the side of the path or track. Stairs of one sort or another are well build on most steep area, some quite elaborate. Alice told us that workmanship in NZ is usually of this quality.
Our next stop was Okahune, the ski town below Turoa. It’s tiny and like mose NZ towns, the carpets roll up early. Shops in all but the largest cities close at 5 p.m., grocers close at 7 or 8, and eeryone else by 9. Most restaurants say they are “open late” which means they serve until 8 or 8:30 depending on how busy they are. The larger cities stay open 3-4 hours later and Auckland apparently never sleeps.
Okahune is the carrot capital of the country and has a giant carrot to prove it. Even with this tourist draw, they follow the small town rule with only bars and restaurants open after 5. We stopped for a beer and snack at a local pub. The menu for snacks was limited so we thought we’d try fish and chips and something called squid rings, which turned out to be just like those old frozen fish sticks only formed into rings. Fully loaded with grease, we rented a luxurious two-room backpacker with a double in the living room and a twin in the bedroom (odd). The sower had a wonderful rainbath showerhead AND as shower massage wand. We were high on the hog that night but after all, it was my birthday.
Alice relaxed while Guy and I went to dinner. The only place with reasonable food for a pesceveggie was a pizza joint but they had just closed the kitchen. They must have seen the dismay on my face as they considered our other options and re-opened the kitchen for us. My birthday dinner was a yummy salad and a pizza with sundried tomato, feta, and pumpkin. And odd combo but good. Alice even enjoyed the leftovers. Our grease quota was met for the next week!
As we drove south, we became aware that corrugated steel is not just a building material. It is also a decorative option, good for colorful sineage, and many more uses. In fact, even entire buidings shaped like sheep and dogs can be made from corrugated steel.
We gradually worked our way to Taupo, a moderate sized town on the eastern edge of Lake Taupo. Our goal was a hike, aka tramp, in Tongariro National Park. We checked the iSite for options after a stop at the “Super Loo,” a coin operated man/woman room. It was such a fancy coin-op bathroom it was noteworthy.
We settled on a hiking plan after only two stops, one at the Taupo iSite and another 20K down the road at Turangi. The plan involved entering the park and driving up to Whakapapa village, one of the two ski areas on the north island. We had considered a tramp called the Tongariro Crossing but it was a 7-hour, one-way hike. Alice offered to drive to meet us at the other end but we decided it was too long and would take up some of our precious time with Alice. The short walk was a 1 ½ hour loop to Waitonga falls, a 39 m waterfall.
Mt. Tongariro is a volcano in the middle of the north island. Beside it is Mt. Ngauruhoe (which I still can’t pronounce), and Mt. Ruapehu. I’m not sure when tngariro and Ngauruhoe were last active but Ruapehu last erupted in September of this year while skiiers were still on the mountain. Needless to say, the landscape was one step off lunar with lavabeds as a base. Foliage was sparse other than the beech forest along the riverbed. Ruapehu itself was still snow capped though our views of all three volcanos were limited by dense cloud cover. We did manage to get a few glimpses of the Whakapapa ski area which we mistook for Turoa, the only other ski area.
Waitonga falls was amazing. Little did we know it was just a taste of what was to come later in the trip. We came to the top of the falls first. There were rocks to walk above the falss and the view was dizzying looking at the wate dropping away. A long staicase took us to the bottom of the falls and its lovely aqua pool.
This walk was our first introduction to the trails in NZ. Their trail maintenance is incredible. Diversion berms are made with wood sides and open tops for cleaning. A trench is often dug down the side of the path or track. Stairs of one sort or another are well build on most steep area, some quite elaborate. Alice told us that workmanship in NZ is usually of this quality.
Our next stop was Okahune, the ski town below Turoa. It’s tiny and like mose NZ towns, the carpets roll up early. Shops in all but the largest cities close at 5 p.m., grocers close at 7 or 8, and eeryone else by 9. Most restaurants say they are “open late” which means they serve until 8 or 8:30 depending on how busy they are. The larger cities stay open 3-4 hours later and Auckland apparently never sleeps.
Okahune is the carrot capital of the country and has a giant carrot to prove it. Even with this tourist draw, they follow the small town rule with only bars and restaurants open after 5. We stopped for a beer and snack at a local pub. The menu for snacks was limited so we thought we’d try fish and chips and something called squid rings, which turned out to be just like those old frozen fish sticks only formed into rings. Fully loaded with grease, we rented a luxurious two-room backpacker with a double in the living room and a twin in the bedroom (odd). The sower had a wonderful rainbath showerhead AND as shower massage wand. We were high on the hog that night but after all, it was my birthday.
Alice relaxed while Guy and I went to dinner. The only place with reasonable food for a pesceveggie was a pizza joint but they had just closed the kitchen. They must have seen the dismay on my face as they considered our other options and re-opened the kitchen for us. My birthday dinner was a yummy salad and a pizza with sundried tomato, feta, and pumpkin. And odd combo but good. Alice even enjoyed the leftovers. Our grease quota was met for the next week!
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Dive Tutukaka
We woke to a beautiful warm day and joined the other would-be fish at Dive Tutukaka for a day of Scuba diving and snorkeling at the Poor Knights Islands. As we cruised out of the bay, the scenery was stunning! Emerald hills, aqua waters, and blue skies amazed us for an hour’s ride.
Our destination, Poor Knights, had been listed in the guidebooks as a site recommended by Jacques Cousteau as one of the best in the world. The islands were apparently named for a breakfast called Poor Knights Pudding which is something like french toast with fruit on top. The islands are uninhabited by humans but home to much exotic wildlife. The story our boat captain told is that they island is now considered sacred by the Maori. A tribe once lived on the islands but after a brutal massacre by another tribe the island was declared off-limits. Now it is home to huge lizards and giant grasshoppers.
The crew dropped anchor off Brady Point. We got the history of the islands and a dive breifing before fighting our way into wetsuits. Our group was guided by will and had 3 other members. While Guy and I dove, alice soaked up sun and snorkeled. We saw several type of fish as we filtered our way through kelp beds at the bottom.
Lunch on the boat was a bagged lunch and lots of cuppa soup. While we ate, we toured a sea cave in which a sub apparently hid undetected for months during WWII. The cave, Rico Rico, apparently was used as an amphitheatre several times for concerts as well. We cruised around parts of the islands enjoying views until we reached Cleaner Fish Bay for a second dive. This area was recently reported to have a lage sea turtle but we didn’t spot it. We were rewarded with a short-tailed stingray.
After the dive and the cruise back, we dove back down to Auckland to enjoy excellent Thai food at a restaurant Alice recommended. Then we continued driving for a few hours until several highway detours reminded us to stop for the night. There wasn’t much around so the 3 of us settled in for a cozy night in the Crib.
Our destination, Poor Knights, had been listed in the guidebooks as a site recommended by Jacques Cousteau as one of the best in the world. The islands were apparently named for a breakfast called Poor Knights Pudding which is something like french toast with fruit on top. The islands are uninhabited by humans but home to much exotic wildlife. The story our boat captain told is that they island is now considered sacred by the Maori. A tribe once lived on the islands but after a brutal massacre by another tribe the island was declared off-limits. Now it is home to huge lizards and giant grasshoppers.
The crew dropped anchor off Brady Point. We got the history of the islands and a dive breifing before fighting our way into wetsuits. Our group was guided by will and had 3 other members. While Guy and I dove, alice soaked up sun and snorkeled. We saw several type of fish as we filtered our way through kelp beds at the bottom.
Lunch on the boat was a bagged lunch and lots of cuppa soup. While we ate, we toured a sea cave in which a sub apparently hid undetected for months during WWII. The cave, Rico Rico, apparently was used as an amphitheatre several times for concerts as well. We cruised around parts of the islands enjoying views until we reached Cleaner Fish Bay for a second dive. This area was recently reported to have a lage sea turtle but we didn’t spot it. We were rewarded with a short-tailed stingray.
After the dive and the cruise back, we dove back down to Auckland to enjoy excellent Thai food at a restaurant Alice recommended. Then we continued driving for a few hours until several highway detours reminded us to stop for the night. There wasn’t much around so the 3 of us settled in for a cozy night in the Crib.
Saturday, December 15, 2007
NZ Two weeks of adventure
October and November were somewhere between a fury and a flurry of activity. Vacation came more quickly than expected and though we were READY for it, we were fairly unprepared. Our travel guides were impatiently waiting to have the covers cracked. They were stowed in the carry on as we hurriedly packed the night before, leaving little time for sleep.
The 4:00 a.m. alarm signalled the start of our trip after a few hours sleep for me and scarcely an hour for Guy. Arriving at the Denver Airport we discovered our 8 a.m. flight was cancelled, leaving us hours to wait before our departure.
Needless to say, our short eight hours to explore Vancouver BC was cut too short to actually leave the airport. Not to worry, the airport was interesting enough to keep us awake for a few more hours. It is under constuction and they have created an impressive array of glassed in pasages with life-sized, zoo-like habitat dioramas including waterponds, etc. The international section has a large saltwater aqarium with beautiful sea life.
While in the airport, we sought directions from one of the many informative people. Attempting to take out our passports and travel documents, I discovered that a truffle candy bar doesn’t do well with altitude changes. The truffle centers had all exploded from the chocolate outer portion and our books and magazines were now quite yummy. Next stop was the airport bar for a snack and beer, which morphed into dinner later. We also caught up on our viewing of extreme sports on the TV bar before boarding our flight to Auckland to hibernate all the way from winter to summer.
After sleeping most of the flight, we awakened in the Southern hemisphere. We had nearly an hour until a spectacular sunrise, so we watched the in-flight videos of what to see in New Zealand. You don’t want to plan these kinds of things too early.
Auckland was a back and forth adventure of driving across town for the rental car, a Jucy Crib, then lunch, and back to the airport to pick up Alice. First the crib: it’s a converted minivan with a small cooler/fridge, a gas cooker, and a pump sink. The bed is made of “cabinets” around the edges and a board that you can slide into the middle. Cushions cover the whole top and it’s really quite comfy. It was painted M&M Green with purple trim, cheesy quotes and ads on the outside. It was a subtle sign to the locals that we were tourons, as if driving on the wrong side of the road wasn’t warning enough.
Our first meal in New Zealand came after a little wandering around downtown Auckland trying to find a restaurant recommended by a lady on the street. The menu looked good but was more than we wanted. So we opted for a doner kebab at Istanbul Kebab stand. Scrumptious. Thus began the foodie tour of NZ.
Alice Prescott is a dear friend from medical school and residency. For some reason she didn’t find Colorado Springs quite adventurous enough and headed to New Zealand to work. She lives in Gisborne on the East coast of the North Island. Although all of NZ is beautiful, we had decided on a short tour of the North Island and a longer stint on the South. This did not allow for an 8 hr drive to Gisborne so Alice met us in Auckland. It was wonderful to see her lovely face!
Piling back in the car again we set out for several days of adventure. The first was to find the motorway north. Highways in New Zealand are much different than those in the US. Four lane highwy exists for only a few km in and out of Auckland. The rest are two-lane with scarce shoulders. They are known for twists and turns even where you expect straight roads. In the mountains they actually seem to corkscrew. One lane bridges are common even on major highways. They are marked by a sign indicating who has the right of way. Some even have railway tracks down the middle. Add to that our unfamiliarity with driving on the lef and you have a recipe for constant backseat driving and teasing. The difference is the backseat driving is appreciated. Fortunately, NZ drivers are usually patient and courteous… or at least it appears so from a neon green tourist van.
As we travelled from Auckland toward the Bay of Islnds, we marvelled at the luch green landscape. It seemed virtually every type of tree was straight out of a Dr. Seuss book. Alice was able to educate us on a few of them. The rest we still need to find on Google.
Our first stop was in Puhoi, a small town whose sign had the welcoming icon of a mand and woman (restroom). We picked up Alice’s lingo and for the rest of the trip called them “man/woman rooms.” There was a multi-sprt event going on; mtn bike, road bike, and kayak. Puhoi was the transition from bike to kayak. We watched the athletes flying through while sipping a couple NZ beers. Several beefy guys were practicing for upcoming lumberjack competitions. Just watching thei effots made our Tui and Monteiths taste even better. One last stop to the local dairy (their name for a convenience store) got us supplied with water and a delicious Moritz Chocolate brownie ice cream bar. Alice has discovered much of the best of NZ.
We continued North to Whangari (wh is pronounced F) where we stopped at an iSite. No, this is not where you load your iPod with local music… it’s an information site. Tourism is the number 2 industry in NZ, right behind farming. Apparently, 1 in 4 New Zealanders is a farmer; andother 1 in 4 is not in the country as travel to the rest of the world is a common pasttime. The other 2 million people are largely involved in tourism in one way or another. I digress.
An iSite is an information shop. Virtually every town with a popuation of >45 has one. Smaller areas have info kiosks. Staff at the iSite can tell you all the local attractions, places to stay, restaurants, and more. They can also book most of your arrangements for you. The Whangari iSite booked the next day’s adventures, gave us tips for lodging and dinner, and pointed us to a grocery to stock up.
Lodging is another great thing in NZ. Nearly every town has several Holiday Parks (campgrounds) or Backpackers (hostels). You can select from dorm accomodations to single, double, and triples with shared baths, ‘en suite” rooms which have their own bath, or “self-contained” with baths and kitchenettes (often cabins). In addition, most have areas for camper vans and tents. All have central kitchens, some with coin up barbeques and refrigerators in which you can rent a basket.
We drove northeast to the coast to Tutukaka and rented a self-contained unit before checking out the two restaurants. We selected the marina so we could sit on the deck and linger over dinner. We also located the meeting point for our first real adventure, Dive Tutukaka.
The 4:00 a.m. alarm signalled the start of our trip after a few hours sleep for me and scarcely an hour for Guy. Arriving at the Denver Airport we discovered our 8 a.m. flight was cancelled, leaving us hours to wait before our departure.
Needless to say, our short eight hours to explore Vancouver BC was cut too short to actually leave the airport. Not to worry, the airport was interesting enough to keep us awake for a few more hours. It is under constuction and they have created an impressive array of glassed in pasages with life-sized, zoo-like habitat dioramas including waterponds, etc. The international section has a large saltwater aqarium with beautiful sea life.
While in the airport, we sought directions from one of the many informative people. Attempting to take out our passports and travel documents, I discovered that a truffle candy bar doesn’t do well with altitude changes. The truffle centers had all exploded from the chocolate outer portion and our books and magazines were now quite yummy. Next stop was the airport bar for a snack and beer, which morphed into dinner later. We also caught up on our viewing of extreme sports on the TV bar before boarding our flight to Auckland to hibernate all the way from winter to summer.
After sleeping most of the flight, we awakened in the Southern hemisphere. We had nearly an hour until a spectacular sunrise, so we watched the in-flight videos of what to see in New Zealand. You don’t want to plan these kinds of things too early.
Auckland was a back and forth adventure of driving across town for the rental car, a Jucy Crib, then lunch, and back to the airport to pick up Alice. First the crib: it’s a converted minivan with a small cooler/fridge, a gas cooker, and a pump sink. The bed is made of “cabinets” around the edges and a board that you can slide into the middle. Cushions cover the whole top and it’s really quite comfy. It was painted M&M Green with purple trim, cheesy quotes and ads on the outside. It was a subtle sign to the locals that we were tourons, as if driving on the wrong side of the road wasn’t warning enough.
Our first meal in New Zealand came after a little wandering around downtown Auckland trying to find a restaurant recommended by a lady on the street. The menu looked good but was more than we wanted. So we opted for a doner kebab at Istanbul Kebab stand. Scrumptious. Thus began the foodie tour of NZ.
Alice Prescott is a dear friend from medical school and residency. For some reason she didn’t find Colorado Springs quite adventurous enough and headed to New Zealand to work. She lives in Gisborne on the East coast of the North Island. Although all of NZ is beautiful, we had decided on a short tour of the North Island and a longer stint on the South. This did not allow for an 8 hr drive to Gisborne so Alice met us in Auckland. It was wonderful to see her lovely face!
Piling back in the car again we set out for several days of adventure. The first was to find the motorway north. Highways in New Zealand are much different than those in the US. Four lane highwy exists for only a few km in and out of Auckland. The rest are two-lane with scarce shoulders. They are known for twists and turns even where you expect straight roads. In the mountains they actually seem to corkscrew. One lane bridges are common even on major highways. They are marked by a sign indicating who has the right of way. Some even have railway tracks down the middle. Add to that our unfamiliarity with driving on the lef and you have a recipe for constant backseat driving and teasing. The difference is the backseat driving is appreciated. Fortunately, NZ drivers are usually patient and courteous… or at least it appears so from a neon green tourist van.
As we travelled from Auckland toward the Bay of Islnds, we marvelled at the luch green landscape. It seemed virtually every type of tree was straight out of a Dr. Seuss book. Alice was able to educate us on a few of them. The rest we still need to find on Google.
Our first stop was in Puhoi, a small town whose sign had the welcoming icon of a mand and woman (restroom). We picked up Alice’s lingo and for the rest of the trip called them “man/woman rooms.” There was a multi-sprt event going on; mtn bike, road bike, and kayak. Puhoi was the transition from bike to kayak. We watched the athletes flying through while sipping a couple NZ beers. Several beefy guys were practicing for upcoming lumberjack competitions. Just watching thei effots made our Tui and Monteiths taste even better. One last stop to the local dairy (their name for a convenience store) got us supplied with water and a delicious Moritz Chocolate brownie ice cream bar. Alice has discovered much of the best of NZ.
We continued North to Whangari (wh is pronounced F) where we stopped at an iSite. No, this is not where you load your iPod with local music… it’s an information site. Tourism is the number 2 industry in NZ, right behind farming. Apparently, 1 in 4 New Zealanders is a farmer; andother 1 in 4 is not in the country as travel to the rest of the world is a common pasttime. The other 2 million people are largely involved in tourism in one way or another. I digress.
An iSite is an information shop. Virtually every town with a popuation of >45 has one. Smaller areas have info kiosks. Staff at the iSite can tell you all the local attractions, places to stay, restaurants, and more. They can also book most of your arrangements for you. The Whangari iSite booked the next day’s adventures, gave us tips for lodging and dinner, and pointed us to a grocery to stock up.
Lodging is another great thing in NZ. Nearly every town has several Holiday Parks (campgrounds) or Backpackers (hostels). You can select from dorm accomodations to single, double, and triples with shared baths, ‘en suite” rooms which have their own bath, or “self-contained” with baths and kitchenettes (often cabins). In addition, most have areas for camper vans and tents. All have central kitchens, some with coin up barbeques and refrigerators in which you can rent a basket.
We drove northeast to the coast to Tutukaka and rented a self-contained unit before checking out the two restaurants. We selected the marina so we could sit on the deck and linger over dinner. We also located the meeting point for our first real adventure, Dive Tutukaka.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Harvest Moon
My back yard is lit with the glow of the harvest moon. Now that it is here and my workweek is over, I can relax in its light... it has wreaked its havoc. But as with all things, we know "this too shall pass." And pass it has... onto a long weekend.
Even though fall is approaching, this seems to be the year of perpetual spring. Spring is the time for the budding and blooming of new things. And it seems my entire year has been filled with new things.
My first backcountry ski trip
Relearning to road bike
Relearning to mountain bike (with real mountains)
Dipping my big toe into the world of whitewater rafting
Dipping my baby toe into the world of kayaking
Learning to swim
Getting bitten by a new bug after watching Guy Tri
and now, SCUBA
with preparation for a trip to New Zealand
Life is nothing if not an adventure. Every day something new to discover. I remember telling Alexis some time back, "Do something every day that scares you." Not that this was an original thought but it is an important one. Every day, maybe not quite... but this year I'm coming pretty close. Of course, "scares you" and "excites you" are very nearly one and the same.
Fall is here... but I'm still springing into new things!
Even though fall is approaching, this seems to be the year of perpetual spring. Spring is the time for the budding and blooming of new things. And it seems my entire year has been filled with new things.
My first backcountry ski trip
Relearning to road bike
Relearning to mountain bike (with real mountains)
Dipping my big toe into the world of whitewater rafting
Dipping my baby toe into the world of kayaking
Learning to swim
Getting bitten by a new bug after watching Guy Tri
and now, SCUBA
with preparation for a trip to New Zealand
Life is nothing if not an adventure. Every day something new to discover. I remember telling Alexis some time back, "Do something every day that scares you." Not that this was an original thought but it is an important one. Every day, maybe not quite... but this year I'm coming pretty close. Of course, "scares you" and "excites you" are very nearly one and the same.
Fall is here... but I'm still springing into new things!
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Turning Over a New Leaf
Indian summer is coming to a close and autumn is beginning to fall here in Colorado. So, as the leaves change, I'm trying to make a few changes too.
All summer I've talked about riding my bike to work. Aside from a few trips to the office on my days off, it hasn't happened. So today I made the first commute and plan to do it once a week until snow flies. It's amazing how hard it is to find one, just one, day a week on which I don't have some activity that needs doing on the way to or from work, or at lunch. PT, dry cleaning, the bank, groceries, etc... they all occupy some portion of my commute on a nearly daily basis.
This morning was the first fall-like morning of the season. It dawned cloudy and 45 degrees. Since I expect to be at work late, I am hopeful that IF it rains (which we desperately need) it will do so before my commute home.
All summer I've talked about riding my bike to work. Aside from a few trips to the office on my days off, it hasn't happened. So today I made the first commute and plan to do it once a week until snow flies. It's amazing how hard it is to find one, just one, day a week on which I don't have some activity that needs doing on the way to or from work, or at lunch. PT, dry cleaning, the bank, groceries, etc... they all occupy some portion of my commute on a nearly daily basis.
This morning was the first fall-like morning of the season. It dawned cloudy and 45 degrees. Since I expect to be at work late, I am hopeful that IF it rains (which we desperately need) it will do so before my commute home.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Indian Summer Poem - from the archives
An Indian summer day on Ute trail
Sweat trickles down my neck
like the Shaman’s pony tail.
Aspens scatter their riches on the path,
gold coins beside the dangerous red of poison ivy
and sharp green soapbush.
I am the only warrior running this trail
to the drumbeat of gunfire across the canyon.
I weave like the moaning cedar wind
between the white and brown bones
of Ancient Ones spreading their shade above me.
Unseen except for the gaze of a white-headed Grandfather mountain
with a crescent of Grandmother moon at his shoulder.
Today I am in love with my life.
Where last night I ground my teeth
beneath the weight of the stones I carry,
here I am restored, but for a pair of shoes,
and scatter my stones, runes, among the sun warmed boulders
to change my fortunes.
In the embrace of a mountain fall,
I am lifted.
Surely it is real medicine
to be suckled on warm water and trail dust
and know the pull of mother Earth on an uphill struggle.
When my soul is so full of this day
that my legs will not carry me up one more mountain for the weight
I will rest
until tomorrow’s run.
LB
10/9/04
Sweat trickles down my neck
like the Shaman’s pony tail.
Aspens scatter their riches on the path,
gold coins beside the dangerous red of poison ivy
and sharp green soapbush.
I am the only warrior running this trail
to the drumbeat of gunfire across the canyon.
I weave like the moaning cedar wind
between the white and brown bones
of Ancient Ones spreading their shade above me.
Unseen except for the gaze of a white-headed Grandfather mountain
with a crescent of Grandmother moon at his shoulder.
Today I am in love with my life.
Where last night I ground my teeth
beneath the weight of the stones I carry,
here I am restored, but for a pair of shoes,
and scatter my stones, runes, among the sun warmed boulders
to change my fortunes.
In the embrace of a mountain fall,
I am lifted.
Surely it is real medicine
to be suckled on warm water and trail dust
and know the pull of mother Earth on an uphill struggle.
When my soul is so full of this day
that my legs will not carry me up one more mountain for the weight
I will rest
until tomorrow’s run.
LB
10/9/04
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Color Me Wrong
Color Me Wrong
I’ve always thought Thomas Kinkade paintings were wrong. That’s obviously why they are relegated to “galleries” full of Precious Moments figurines, which are equally wrong. It’s not the gooey, quaint scenes, it’s the colors and that eerie glow. Mother Nature just doesn’t use that palatte.
In the scheme of things being wrong, I was leaving my house in a state of absolute “right” this evening. The car was loaded with running gear for MY RUN tomorrow !! ;-))) !! A large bag containing ingredients for Guy’s Crazy Spicy Noodles rested expectantly on the floor. But as I turned toward the West, there was a sunset a la Kinkade. Hot pink ethereal flares glowing off the tops of the foothills against a backdrop of sun faded blue and lavender clouds. Above the layers a bright white puff with a knife edge of brilliant yellow orange. I didn’t dare look at who, or what, was driving the car beside me lest I see those huge eyes staring at me.
I’ve always thought Thomas Kinkade paintings were wrong. That’s obviously why they are relegated to “galleries” full of Precious Moments figurines, which are equally wrong. It’s not the gooey, quaint scenes, it’s the colors and that eerie glow. Mother Nature just doesn’t use that palatte.
In the scheme of things being wrong, I was leaving my house in a state of absolute “right” this evening. The car was loaded with running gear for MY RUN tomorrow !! ;-))) !! A large bag containing ingredients for Guy’s Crazy Spicy Noodles rested expectantly on the floor. But as I turned toward the West, there was a sunset a la Kinkade. Hot pink ethereal flares glowing off the tops of the foothills against a backdrop of sun faded blue and lavender clouds. Above the layers a bright white puff with a knife edge of brilliant yellow orange. I didn’t dare look at who, or what, was driving the car beside me lest I see those huge eyes staring at me.
Down to the Well - Poem 2006
Some of you have been encouraging me to find inspiration, to find those bits of poetry that are often scattered on the path half hidden by rocks I might trip over. And I have found inspiration again. Not on the run this time, though it is lurking there too.
For now, this inspiration is in the sacrifice of a goat to bring luck to well drilling in Afganistan, in the scenting of cotton to line a wooden box for the body of a man I never knew, in the wild danger of moose in Alaska, in the taste of strawberries and the scent of gasoline, in the love of a decades old friend, and in remembering that "courage atrophies from lack of use." Enjoy.
We all go down to the well
Carrying our thirst
for life
for love
for adventure
Digging deep for something that has meaning
sacrificing
shedding the blood of our dreams
burying our dead
If we are lucky enough to drill through stone
And we happen to have a little Grace
in the bottom of our pockets
We just might tap into something
that flows through us
like freedom
or surprise
or the autumn wind
We might find that delicate balance
between becoming ripe
and getting bruised
An echo
between the soundless space of fear
and the laughter of our childhood
A taste of courage
nearly atrophied
Perhaps there are new habits to acquire
under new skies
untainted by the bitterness of disappointment
and steeped in the warmth of decades
A starting point
to rev our souls to motion
and our hearts
past desire
and toward redemption
We can stop starving ourselves
by waiting for tomorrows
we can laugh at the sun
and dance in the rain
wearing the shoes that didn’t drop
until all the doors are unlocked
and the table is as full of life’s feast
as our mouths with the rich taste of Now
Lisa B
For now, this inspiration is in the sacrifice of a goat to bring luck to well drilling in Afganistan, in the scenting of cotton to line a wooden box for the body of a man I never knew, in the wild danger of moose in Alaska, in the taste of strawberries and the scent of gasoline, in the love of a decades old friend, and in remembering that "courage atrophies from lack of use." Enjoy.
We all go down to the well
Carrying our thirst
for life
for love
for adventure
Digging deep for something that has meaning
sacrificing
shedding the blood of our dreams
burying our dead
If we are lucky enough to drill through stone
And we happen to have a little Grace
in the bottom of our pockets
We just might tap into something
that flows through us
like freedom
or surprise
or the autumn wind
We might find that delicate balance
between becoming ripe
and getting bruised
An echo
between the soundless space of fear
and the laughter of our childhood
A taste of courage
nearly atrophied
Perhaps there are new habits to acquire
under new skies
untainted by the bitterness of disappointment
and steeped in the warmth of decades
A starting point
to rev our souls to motion
and our hearts
past desire
and toward redemption
We can stop starving ourselves
by waiting for tomorrows
we can laugh at the sun
and dance in the rain
wearing the shoes that didn’t drop
until all the doors are unlocked
and the table is as full of life’s feast
as our mouths with the rich taste of Now
Lisa B
Vision Check?
Today I took photos of my old sofa with and without the slip cover. I posted the photos in my treatment room in case any patients or their college-bound kids need a comfy though unattractive sofa.
While Alexis roomed my second patient of the day, the patient interrupted her and asked "who on earth would buy such a f*ckin' ugly sofa."
I went in to see the patient moments later. She commented on what cool red and purple glasses I have. Then she asked if they were readers. I said, "no I'm pretty blind." She said, "Well, that explains the sofa."
While Alexis roomed my second patient of the day, the patient interrupted her and asked "who on earth would buy such a f*ckin' ugly sofa."
I went in to see the patient moments later. She commented on what cool red and purple glasses I have. Then she asked if they were readers. I said, "no I'm pretty blind." She said, "Well, that explains the sofa."
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