Gloooom

Late January, eh... Okay, it could be worse. Maybe... I'm thinking snow might be better.  But rain, gray, rain and damp chill, and did I say gray? It was a gray day, and I was feeling gloomy. I had nothing to do or er nothing I wanted to do, and it was taking all day to do it, and it was a really long dayyyy.

I went to town. The business I went there for was closed. My wheels splashed through the streets and everything-- the cars, buildings, barren trees and brown grass looked soggy.  I sat at the stoplight and wondered what in the world I was going to do with the rest of the day.

And while I waited, school was letting out, and a big yellow bus pulled up beside me. I looked up and saw a kid about six with unruly hair. He was licking the window. Yeah, I know, it's gross, but it made me smile.  About halfway back another child's ear and cheek were pressed hard against the glass.  I could feel the cold, smooth glass against my own cheek, maybe forty years ago. I too was a kid on a bus. Two windows back, two lips smooshed in a fat ugly kiss taunted anyone who might look their way.

Their moms would die!

But they made my day.

Just Before Dark

Let me tell you about God's world--it's gorgeous. Every moment that I step out and into the outdoors I'm awed, mesmerized and grateful. He did a good job. I'm so glad he is taking me along for the ride.
 
Take an evening earlier this week when I took an excursion about an hour before sunset. A friend and I took gloves and buckets and walked the woods along the barren fields and the more untidy banks of the Big River.

The weather was once again unseasonably warm but the trek was not all that pleasant, for though the cold didn't bite us, the undergrowth did. The caney weeds, thick and tall, slapped our faces. Vines tangled round our ankles and thorny stems grabbed our thighs even through the denim. We could have used a machete, but even without one, and the unpleasant traveling against the tide, I wouldn't have missed the trip.

For as we made our way through the undergrowth, we walked the same paths of other creatures that like to walk the river.  And although we didn't see the creatures, we found a place brimming with life. Little raccoon hands and or er feet were printed all over the sandy banks. A small deep hole opened like a cave at our feet, likely home to a sleeping groundhog. There were deer tracks of course and lots of hollow logs perfect for hiding in. And there also was lots of construction going on... 

Needless to say a patch of woods between the corn fields  and the river is a happy place for God's wild friends-and me too. We could hear the cars on the highway though as we made our way under the concrete and steel of the bridge, a rolling constant like breakers against the rocks. And the woodland animals were not the only ones that had been here, the abandoned belongings of the more civilized beasts were scattered about, beer cans and empty water bottles mostly, cigarette packs and food wrappers and then rubber gloves, a plastic bag full of foil packs probably tossed from the highway above us, and for a moment the world became a more sinister place, no, a sadder place.

Then the day grew darker, and despite my doubts, the mystery, the marvelous mystery was moving in on the bank of that river, a place like any other and less than most. I heard the cry of the kingfisher as it swiftly sailed past. A hawk giving up the hunt for the day headed east flapping smoothly across the field. Then the stillness set in, and it seemed I was in another place. 

 With the setting of the sun, that narrow wooded bank took on an exotic air. The sky colored in waves and the river resounded them with echos of light. The barren boughs, the tall black hardwood trees, the reeds piercing the rose and blue pools, seemed to me inked into the landscape by an artist's hand.

It was only for a moment, but my heart was lifted and I wanted to get down on my knees.

Then my friend and I climbed the banks back to the field. We would take the easy path home through the plowed earth carpeted with corn. 

The sun had vanished behind the hills. A purple plume rose above it like the sun lie smoldering beyond.  A large flock of geese honked overhead and swirled around the field looking for a place to settle.

The dusk blanketed the earth, and the mystery receded in the twilight. I was back in the familiar, and on my way home, just before dark.

A Little Grace please

Ah, so it's not Every Day with Grace. Maybe it's almost every day with Grace.  Whatever, I have just come in from a lovely evening. A cousin of my father's on the spur of the moment planned a dinner party. It was good to see family members I have only seen in passing in the last 2 decades.  I spent the evening conversing with people I perhaps have never sat down to talk with as an adult in my whole life and yet they were a real part of my childhood. Interesting. Time goes so fast.

You may delay, but time will not...Ben Franklin.

Yes, she was right to throw a party, and what a party it was.  There were tons of appetizers--pigs in a blanket, little toasts with cheese dip, something she called green fudge.  I had my first Manhattan. It was good :).  Then there was dinner--beef stroganoff, salad, and these lovely vegetables with zucchini, carrots and leek.  And though I couldn't, you know she didn't forget dessert--beautiful meringue cookies, butter nut toffees, fruit cake and Boston creme pie.  I thought I'd die, and one day I will. So glad to have had the opportunity to party in the interim.  I'll keep it my heart and count it as my send off. 

Time flies, you know.

Dancin'

Well, this explains everything. It explains hula hoops and pet rocks, the Macarena, reality tv shows, crocs, and maybe even Justin Bieber. And it’s a plan—get out there, get crazy, take your shirt off (okay, not that crazy), and most of all find a follower. And this morning, I have my first follower. Thank you F.J.! As Derek Sivers says, “it takes guts to be the first follower.” The thing is I’m not real sure how this dance is going to go yet, but I’m going to keep dancing. I’m willing to be the lone nut. (Sometimes I think I have no choice).

So, my grace for today: Give the lone nuts a little room, but if it feels right, get in there and get dancin’.

Looking in New Directions

The last three days of 2011 were days to remember. The weather was unusually warm, breezy but sixty and sending the heart skipping on ahead to spring although the head knows that winter simply hasn’t arrived yet. So not to waste a warm minute, my friend and I decided to take a hike in West Tyson Park. 

We never take long hikes but prefer to get off the beaten path and into the woods shaking the bushes a bit even in the midst of winter when wildlife is scarce and wildflowers sleeping. That is not to say that the woods weren’t green they were! The mosses were filling the void covering the stones with a brilliant chartreuse in a sea of dry dead brown.

The stones grew larger as we went, forming rock walls and ledges along steep hillside and lay scattered down the slope wherever they landed after the long roll, long, long ago.

Besides the mosses, we found mineral deposits growing beneath the rocky ledges. I’m still waiting for my cave friends to tell me what they are… We also found some unusual mushrooms and pretty  common fungi that are still interesting to me.

Although the landscape was really steep and covered with a thick blanket of leaves hiding treacherous terrain, we climbed down the hillside and went exploring, finally ending up walking along a little creek which was nearly dry but dripping consistently over moss covered rocks and puddling on flat beds of rock.

Winter landscapes seem barren at first glance, but the sparseness of the vegetation can work to your advantage providing new venues for observation. The naked branches open space which reveal beautiful vistas. The dead brush clears new directions for exploring, and the poisonous plants and pests are all sleeping, thank goodness. Perhaps though, the best way winter works is to shift your focus and force you to look in new directions for discoveries. In my own experience the result has been fascinating, and so it was on this day.  As we scanned the stream and rummaged through rocks, everywhere we looked there were fossils.

* Just a note: Usually you are not allowed to take fossils from a public park.

And so, our finds were fascinating. I’m afraid though I don’t know much about  prehistoric eras nor  fossils.  I do know that during the Mississippian age, much of Missouri was covered by warm, shallow seas.  It seemed that most of what we found were the fossils of shells and other water creatures and plants. Perhaps I will start studying more about fossils.

The hike back was pleasant.  We saw an old rock wall at the boundary of the park. There is no end to the rock in this state ;). The day ended with a beautiful sunset, and I couldn’t help but think how fortunate it was to have the sun and warm winds on the winter landscape these last days of 2011.