lessons from the flowers

So today I noticed one of my all time favorite wildflowers.  It is actually classified as a weed by most people, but one can actually purchase seeds on-line, so that would make it a cultivated plant wouldn't it.  These plants have bloomed a bit early this year with our Indian Summer we have been experiencing.  It is raining tonight, so they will be blooming with the daffodils soon.  These are Capsella Bursa-Pastura, commonly known as the shepherd's purse.  They have tiny white florets on terminal stalks, but then spread their seed pods in a whorled fashion.  If you'll notice the seed pod is heart shaped.  In fact it's name comes from the fact that it is shaped like the sling purse that shepherd's often wore across their shoulder in ancient Israel.  Legend has it that these flowers did not exist until David killed Goliath with his sling ... and if the seed pod is cut open there are five smooth stones in each one of them.  Go figure.

"false summits"

I don't remember the first time, but I remember dozens of times ...
One of my first memories goes back to a mid-June day on which we attempted the Rio Grande Pyramid.  Leaving early in the morning [and probably not early enough] we made the steep climb out of the Weminuche Pass to the trail leading over to the peak.  There was still significant snow on the side we were ascending, so our path up the mountain was either through snow and steep terrain or through very loose scree ... neither of which provided firm footing and our pattern was "five steps up and slide three back" ... and the day grew hotter.  We all thought we knew where we were going and we could look up and see the blue sky pointing to our goal.  But three times we reached that blue sky only to discover that it was just above a shelf that blocked our view of the summit.  Once as we neared what I thought was the 'top' ... my hat blew off ... my only hat ... and it was getting hot and this was the second day of my trip ... had to drop back down and get it ... about a 300' drop that I had just worked so hard to achieve.  I remember the fatigue and the frustration ... but then ... that was twenty five years ago!   In one sense I cannot believe it has been that long, but on the other hand, I have experienced so many "false summits" since then that I've grown more accustomed to the patience and the endurance necessary to achieve my goal.  Those setbacks in life are usually really 'not' ... but rather detours that allow me to see something I had missed or to better prepare me for the the path to come.  It it necessary to focus on the peak, but life is lived in the valleys and on the side of the mountain.  Those peaks that I've stood upon, bring memories of glorious views and of a great sense of accomplishment.  But I have far more memories of those glimpses of blue sky through the trees and of wild roses and columbines along the trail that I would have missed had I not gone back to get my hat!

2012 ...

Okay, so it's been a while.  Sometimes when I seem to get caught up ... I take time to reflect ... and yes, I should do that much more often.  So I'm thinking now - in retrospect - of Christmas morning 2011 ... awakening before everyone else and strapping on a pair of snowshoes and in the crispness of a three degree morning - walked about a half mile down a creek beside our cabin in the Wolf Creek area of southern Colorado.  Many thoughts filled my head that morning... thoughts of blessings realized and true wonder as I listened to the snow-laden aspens creak disrupting the silence of sound absorbed by snow.  I paused for a few moments to catch my breath and spoke the following from memory.  That was a merry Christmas.

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.


Thank you Robert Frost ... I shall not forget.

This photograph is taken on the border between the United States and Canada ... Minnesota and Ontario.  This row of planks is the nicer, smoother part of the portage between Knife Lake and Lake Saganaga?  I've been here twice ... going the opposite direction both times.  The photograph serves as a link to a host of memories on the day ... the series of days ... that were two very different canoe trips.  Often in life we revisit the same places, only to discover that they are already inhabited in our memory and yet each time we take a different perspective and add a new perspective.  I'm mindful that as we approach the holiday season... and in particular Thanksgiving just around the corner... that we bring memories to that table, some that are bittersweet and others that are joyous - and we form new memories.  The path leading up to this walkway is rocky and steep ... easy to lose footing and take a bad fall ... or is it the path that leads away from this smooth access?  Guess I'll have to just wait and see?

Life in a canoe

I awakened at 4:20 AM this morning, ready for the day and wondering why.  Karen commented the other day that I have really seemed 'busy' lately ... and perhaps should relax a bit (that's the pot calling the kettle black).  But I've noticed in the past few weeks that the world around me seems in a bit more chaos than usual ... or maybe I've just noticed more.  With the deaths of several folks I've known for years, the break up of several families, the simple dysfunction in some people,  and the orphanage of three adolescent girls ... some things come more clearly into perspective.  This morning I prayed this mantra:  "Lord Jesus, I ask your Spirit to enter into my heart." ... emphasizing a different word each time I said the phrase.   I believe that in each of these situations, He has given and will provide discernment, wisdom, and peace ... reminding me that His grace and His presence is sufficient ... for today.  Yesterday gives memory and perspective and tomorrow has enough worries of its own ... but he has given me life ... and that life abundant.

So what's with the canoeing?  Well I've had several opportunities to spend time in a canoe and most recently this summer in the Boundary Waters of northern Minnesota and southern Ontario.  As with my hiking experiences, life in a canoe has many lessons to carry back to life without a canoe.   Simply speaking ... each day begins on a lake that exemplifies the beauty of His creation and much of what is around me is very similar to what surrounded me yesterday.  But what lies ahead is known only to Him.  Yes, I have a map and need to pay careful attention and I do have the choices in which way to go, but I'm met at the end of the most difficult portage by a new beginning and a new adventure.  No matter how difficult or long the path, I know I have to carry the canoe and all of the packs and gear I've decided to carry with me.  I know I can stop and rest - but I'd rather push on until I can set down my load and get back in the canoe.  Because when I start off again, the canoe is carrying my burden.  All I have to do is paddle... and I know that if I stop paddling, I will drift away from my goal.  I'll still get to where I wanted to go, but it will take longer.  So for now, I'll just keep paddling - knowing there will be another portage and another lake.  Oh, if only I could spend life in a canoe.

'no deposit - no return'

I've not posted a comment in quite some time and have recently felt the "need" to return here and make comments from time to time ... but without making a deposit here it has been difficult to make a return.  I've suffered from that thought of "Where do I begin and how do I catch up?"  but I know better than that.  I must be careful though ... I have been working on my third level of my cynicism merit badge and I've not really been putting forth that much effort.

Perhaps I can highlight events and circumstances that have been meaningful to me over the past four months ... and there have been many.  But for now I'll just say "Stay Tuned" for further entries ...

adopt a family

"Sometimes I sits and thinks ... and sometimes I just sits." was one of the many things I've forgotten Mrs. Partin saying. Nina Partin was an aged woman who lived about a block from the church when I was growing up. She was a widow and a retired seamstress, though she often took in some sewing. Her son Wilbur lived in a room behind her house for most of the time I knew her. He was an alcoholic and a really nice guy. Wilbur would mow someone's lawn or fix a broken lamp or do some other domestic chore for someone and he'd buy eggs and chicken necks for his mother (and probably a bottle for himself). She was such a sweet spirit and never had a bad thing to say about Wilbur, though I'm certain he was a millstone about her neck. I wish I could remember all the witty things Mrs. Partin would say, but that has been too many years ago. What I do remember is that our family took care of her ... in lots of little ways. Mom would make extra dinner and walk down the alley to take it to Mrs. Partin. When I got older I would ride my bike down and take her milk or eggs or something... then I'd pull weeds in her flowerbeds and take out the trash and then sit and listen to her quote poems to her parakeet.

When David and I were traveling through Europe during the summer of 1971, we spent almost a week in a small fishing village north of Barcelona called Aryns de Mare. I remember walking about the village early in the morning and watching the lady at the top of the hill sweep her sidewalk into the gutter and then sweep the gutter toward the main part of town. When she was about half finished, her neighbor came out and greeted her. They visited while he swept is sidewalk into his gutter. He picked up her refuse and continued pushing it down the hill towards town. I noticed that this process took place all over town and it dawned on me that this morning ritual allowed the whole town to get out and visit with each other and the entire village got swept in the process.

I think these two memories are related.

"They devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. Everyone was filled with awe, and many wonders and miraculous signs were done by the apostles. All the believers were together and had everything in common. Selling their possessions and goods, they gave to anyone as he had need. Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread together in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising GOD and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved." Acts 2