On the Road – Day 2

AOL_1350 — Tango by one of the many Union and Confederate cannons.

Today Tango and I crossed the states of Alabama and Mississippi, stopping in Vicksburg on the banks of the Mississippi River.

Vicksburg is notable for being the spot where the first Coca Cola was bottled in 1894. It was also the site of one of the critical battles of the American Civil War. In 1863, from May 18th until July 4th, the Union forces laid siege on Vicksburg. The armies totaled 110,000 men–more than twice the current population of Vicksburg. Causalities were more than 37,000–a number that does not include the civilians of Vicksburg who were trapped along with the Confederate soldiers.

Vicksburg’s strategic place along the Mississippi made it a “must win” for the Union. Abraham Lincoln declared Vicksburg “the Key” to winning the Civil War.

Today the land on which the Yanks and the Rebels squared off against one another is preserved as a National Park. With close to 150 years of recovery, the landscape no longer resembles the war-ravaged land of 1863. Monuments grace the 1,800 acres and the Park Service clearly has its hands full keeping the grass trimmed back. You can hardly believe there was ever the carnage and suffering that is depicted in the exhibits.

Why visit such a place, you might ask? Why care about a war that is long gone and that many college students can’t even tell you who won (it was the Union)? It has to do with perspective, I think. There are many who feel these are the worst of times in the U.S. But there was a time in this country when we set about to slaughter one another and did a darn good job of it. Estimates are that 620,000 people died in the Civil War, which was only four years long. Do the math…155,000 a year, 12,917 a month! Add to that the mammoth destruction of property in the South. It was a horrific time….

Yet today soft green grasses of spring wave peacefully on the hillsides. The trees have that rich color of new growth and birds are everywhere collecting the makings of their springtime nests. Butterflies flitter about and dozens of people, like me, stopped by to pay their respects to this hallowed ground. Things may be a little tough right now but let us hope we never return to the horror that was the American Civil War. ❖

April 24, 2017 0

We Need A Little Christmas

In recent years I haven’t been very “big” on Christmas. The conflicted messages that emanate at this time of the year have become too much for this aging soul. I recall being so fervent as a child, anticipating the birth of baby Jesus, marveling at the tale of the three wise men and, of course, anticipating Santa’s visit. Even in to middle age there was still a lot enjoyment centered around the holiday. But over-commercialization coupled with learning the truth about how our religious documents were not the contemporary reportage that we might have thought, have made this writer cynical about it all. As the media focuses on the “new phenomena” of “fake news” let’s not lose sight of the fact that religions have practiced fake news for years.

This year things seem especially grim. Many are choosing to “drop out” because, honestly, it has become impossible to know what is real and what is not. On Facebook this morning I saw a Canadian journalist who claims that the U.S.A. is fabricating stories about Syria, that the “White Helmets” are not a humanitarian group but a well-funded paramilitary organization, and that we don’t have a clue as to what is happening in Aleppo because there are no reporters in the city. She noted that one prominent source on conditions in Aleppo lives in Coventry, England! She seemed incredibly well versed and was particularly articulate about the dreadful war in Syria but who is to say that she is reporting the truth?

Ironically it is this unsettled state of mind that turns many people to religion but it seems our various cultures have plenty of faith in various gods…we simply have no faith in each other.

And so I found myself humming, “We Need a Little Christmas,” from the musical “Mame.” It’s a cheerful ditty and I hadn’t heard it in a while so, as is my wont, I was inspired to have a listen on Spotify. I wonder if these lyrics resonate with any of you, dear readers?

For I’ve grown a little leaner,

Grown a little colder,

Grown a little sadder,

Grown a little older,

And I need a little angel

Sitting on my shoulder,

Need a little Christmas now.

Angels, alas, are in short supply but in the Christmas tradition I can send you a star, a Florida star.

This photograph is one of our lovely Florida grasses with a crown of morning dew. Nature always soothes me and brings things into perspective. And today that perspective is right in-line with Mame’s:

For we need a little music,

Need a little laughter,

Need a little singing

Ringing through the rafter,

And we need a little snappy

“Happy ever after,”

Need a little Christmas now.

December 18, 2016 6

Trump Election – A Suggested Coping Mechanism

The wonderful Tina Turner — Simply the Best

So, we are more than a month removed from the national election. Donald Trump is president-elect. For some it was a victory. For others, this writer included, it was a profoundly sorrowful moment. The scenes from Clinton’s post-election “party” definitely told the tale. Seldom have I seen such sad faces. The sad truth is that this sorrow we feel will not easily go away because there are four years ahead of us. A coping mechanism is so necessary. For some it is as simple as no longer watching the news. Others are actually emigrating to Canada and other countries. My own method of coping is wrapped up in the divine Tina Turner.

Several days after the election, while watching one of the several Obama slideshow collections that are making the rounds on Facebook, I started humming the Tina Turner song “Simply the Best” and did a quick search on Spotify for the song. There I found a wonderful, previously unheard, recording of a live Tina concert in Arnhem, Holland. I cranked it up and Donald Trump faded away. Soon Tina was filling the house with music on a regular basis. I would sing along, get up and dance, play a little air guitar and, generally, feel good. I recommend it to everyone.

But Tina, as we know, is hardly a one-facet lady. So, after listening to the rock-and-roll Tina for several days I then turned to a recording entitled “Beyond”. This particular Tina Turner album is not as well known as her rockers but it has transported me to other dimensions on many occasions. It is a collection of Buddhist and Christian Prayers sung by Tina, Dechen Shak Dagsay and Regula Curti. There is also commentary by Tina, complete with her Southern dialect, in which she talks about the ability of singing to “take us beyond.” It’s a beautifully soothing recording and Turner’s urging to “Start every day singing like the birds/Singing takes you beyond” is advice that I try to take to heart. Music connects us to a higher level of consciousness and puts our life in perspective.

So, if The Donald is still getting you down, crank up some music that you love and just let it go, my friends. Bobby Kennedy once said, “Like it or not, we live in interesting times.” Such is our fate. ❧

December 16, 2016 1

Letting go….

Grieving is a process, individual and unique to all. It begins early in life. Some say the first grief is when we exit the womb into this world of gravity and constant stimuli. Throughout childhood we begin to learn the key elements of grieving… loss and the need to let go. This may begin with a pet goldfish or a beloved teddy bear that has been reduced, through love, to tatters. Eventually it extends to our human loved ones. For some that comes very early in life. I recall a friend in my childhood town of Norton, Massachusetts whose father died unexpectedly. I was about ten and I pondered what all of that meant to my friend Jackie.

I could only imagine but eventually my time came, as it comes to all of us. No matter when we lose our parents it is just plain hard. So my heart aches for my cousins Milo, John, and Phil who have lost their beloved mother, Bunny.

Now begins the painful process of letting go and yesterday we held a memorial service for her at Point of Rocks. It was very moving, warm and relaxed as she would want it to be. Each person took the time to remember Bunny and contribute a flower to Bunny’s bouquet. By the time we were finished the sun had set, the bouquet was complete, and there was much love in the spring night air. It would have been Bunny’s 96th birthday.

Bunny’s remains will be interred in the family plot in Norton, Massachusetts on April 17.

Additional photos from the March 26th event are below.❧

There were many wonderful photos of Bunny. — There were many wonderful photos of Bunny taped on the wall of her home at Point of Rocks.

DSCN2783 — Avery Dodge, Bunny’s long time neighbor, remembers her friend.

March 27, 2016 2

#314 – Return to the earth that which it creates

My primary reason for journeying to Australia was to visit with my dear friends Craig Hosmer and Daryl Reinke. We met some forty years ago in Washington, DC. They have been the most constant and generous friends.

In 1994 they retired to Australia, Daryl’s birth place. For years they had dreamed of a bigger garden and, by gum, they got one! They purchased 40 acres of cleared land on the Sunshine Coast. It had been cow pasture for decades but it was previously rain forest and they set out to return the land to its original state. Their success has been spectacular. In the two pictures above you can see their land from my first trip in August 2001 and the same land fourteen years later.

Lots can happen in fourteen years, obviously. Things change. Friends and family pass away. New babies are born, so are new countries. But amidst all the swirl and chaos there is, as Paul Simon so eloquently put it, “the automatic earth.” Treat it tenderly and it is your friend for life…literally.

In 2001 we planted a tree in honor of Robert, my late husband, who had been gone for just three months. We planted it along the left edge of that pond you can see in the top photo. And just below you can see what a difference fourteen years can make.

Craig and Daryl in front of Robert's tree, November 2015. — Craig and Daryl in front of Robert’s tree, November 2015.

Planting Robert's tree on Sept. 4, 2001 — Planting Robert’s tree on Sept. 4, 2001

While in Australia I learned about the Butchulla people, an Aboriginal tribe that lives on Fraser Island. Their tribe has few laws but the first is, “Whatever is good for the land comes first.” Part of Robert’s ashes are in that magnificent tree and it is good. ❧

December 18, 2015 1

Australia!

Hello gentle readers. It has been several weeks since I have posted to this blog but Alice’s Wanderland is truly living up to its name this week.

Greetings from Australia! I am mid-way through a three week holiday with a bit of business at the very end. It has been a wonderful time.

Australia is fun. It is at once very familiar and, at the same time, very different. Coffee is a good example, as you can see in the above picture. It is a simple cup of coffee with cream (milk) but Down Under they call it a Flat White and the very best of them have wonderful designs created from the milk. This particular cup was enjoyed at a cafe called Emelia’s in Gympie, which had wonderful food, coffee and pastries.

I forget how much “foreign” travel can do for the soul. It pushes to the rear all the day-to-day stuff that consumes our lives and forces a re-awakening, a re-visiting of attitudes and customs, a great kick on the door marked “Learn” to throw it open as wide as possible. Everyone travels these days. Age doesn’t matter…from 8 days to 80 years and everything in between. All colors, languages, dress…and all with a slightly wary eye on our fellow travelers because it is, dear friends, a dangerous time too. But at the end of 8,000 miles you can emerge in a land where people make hearts on your coffee. And I am certain in every land there are these gestures of acceptance and welcoming. Humans, most assuredly too numerous for their own good, nevertheless have great hearts and show them in a hundred different ways. Keep looking. ❧

November 25, 2015 7

Get the buckets!

One of my favorite weather pages is Mike’s Weather Page. I stumbled on it several years ago when I was trying to find information on the “hurricane spaghetti models.” Those are what they call the different projections that agencies put together when a hurricane develops. They can be wildly divergent and often do look like spaghetti.

But Mike has a lot more than hurricane tracks. He has an amazing number of weather maps posted from various agencies, like the one above which is from NOAA. This is the “Next Five Day Rain Forecast” map and I have only included the east coast of the U.S. Look closely and you’ll see a bright yellow section in the western hills of North Carolina with the notation 17.3. Well, that’s 17.3 inches and is right over my house!!! Well, not exactly, of course, but close enough.

I’m on high ground and not worried but there are many people in the Carolinas that could face some real hardships in the next few days. And who knows where Joaquin will actually end up because the Spaghetti Models are still, pardon the expression, all over the map. ❦

October 1, 2015 0

In The Deep

Natalia Molchanova is dead. You can be forgiven if you have not heard of her. In this world of seven billion inhabitants there are people who accomplish great things that we never hear of or give witness to…until they are gone.

Ms. Molchanova was widely regarded as the world’s greatest free diver, perhaps in the history of the sport (at the time of her death on August 2nd she held 41 world records).

Free diving is a basic, no frills sport. All you need is a body of water and a diver. You hold your breath and dive as deeply as you possibly can. In Ms. Molchanova’s case it was very deep indeed. She was the first woman to ever pass the 100 meter depth. That is a little over the length of a football field, down into the sea and, of course, back to the surface again. Ms. Molchanova held the world record for holding her breath longer than anyone else – 9 minutes and 2 seconds!

These records are remarkable enough but are even more so when placed into the context of Ms. Molchanova’s life. She was originally a competitive swimmer but “retired” after giving birth to her son (who is also a free diver). She returned to training, and took up free diving, at the age of 40 and carved a spectacular career in the span of 13 years. At an age when most people begin to think about true retirement this remarkable woman found an outlet that not only satisfied her desire to compete but also, it seemed, gave her great spiritual reward.

“Free diving is not only sport, it’s a way to understand who we are,” Ms. Molchanova said in an interview last year. “When we go down, if we don’t think, we understand we are whole. We are one with world. When we think, we are separate. On surface, it is natural to think and we have many information inside. We need to reset sometimes. Free diving helps do that.”

In a world where we are constantly barraged by stimulus that forces an almost non-stop thinking, the prospect of “not thinking” is almost, well, unthinkable. And yet it seems to hold some key to finding an inner peace, ask any Zen master or Buddhist monk. Or, perhaps, any child in the womb, waiting to be born, floating in their own sea, experiencing the oneness.

For Ms. Molchanova her moment of becoming one with the world is now eternal. Her body has not been found and her son has accepted that. “It seems she’ll stay in the sea,” he said. “I think she would like that.” ❦

August 6, 2015 0

Chris and Cooper

I’m really grateful to those of you who follow my blog. It is an honor to me that you give some of your time to read my words or look at my images. I’m almost ashamed to admit I don’t follow too many bloggers but among those I do is Chris Condello’s: Green Thumbed Vagabond. Not every post but most of them. Chris presents a nice blend of poetry, gardening tips and life observations. And his personal life is interjected just enough so that you respect him all the more for accomplishing the production of so much beauty…a lesser man might have just said, “F” it.

Chris’s most recent post is called My Little Buddy Cooper. It’s about his dog, Cooper. Now, if you surf on Facebook at all you have seen your share of cute dogs but, trust me, Cooper is cute. He’s a Corgi. And he is presented in some wonderful images. You will just die for the one where he is running towards you with his tongue flying in the wind.

I wanted to share the wealth because that is part of blogging. Thanks Chris, keep up the good work.

July 13, 2015 0

Image #300 – In Its Prime

Everything has a prime…that time in the life cycle when all things “click.” For humans the “prime” is elusive. Counter-intuitively, it seems there can be multiple “primes” when a life cycle spans more than six decades. But for the mushroom on my hillside in North Carolina time is short and I believe I captured a Prime moment.

I snapped this picture yesterday. The ‘shroom almost yelled out to me. It was poised, center-stage, in a brilliantly lit patch of decay. By the time I fetched my camera the key-light had moved on but the mushroom was still an incredibly powerful presence. Strong and vibrant, reaching for the sky. It is, I think, some form of Amanita. When I returned today it seemed shriveled. It had flattened out and something had nibbled on it. My forest friends eat hearty in the summer, with all manner of mushrooms available along with berries and new buds. Most mornings I awake to find deer munching on the apples from my trees. I don’t mind. There are plenty of apples and the only inconvenience is that the deer take all the low-hanging fruit so I must work harder to get the fruit that is left. Working harder makes me realize I have passed my prime…at least my 6th decade prime…or so I think today.

I have been here for a week and have an almost visceral feeling of decompression. This small patch of land on Fawn Hill is a haven, a place to relax and enjoy just the being of life…however long that may be. ❧

July 10, 2015 0

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