Alignment

It happened again, My published page is all out of alignment. Must be a message in there – like read the directions.
Peace can be challenging. Nevertheless, love to all.

Peace

 

Peace

                               I’d like to send a few lines from a verse I learned from Kermit the Frog, a valued mentor.

                                                                                                 Ho, Ho.

                                                                            I don’t know if you believe in Christmas,

                                                                 Or if you have presents all around a Christmas tree

                                                                                But if you believe in love

                                                                         That will be more than enough …”  ribbit.             

May we all know peace in our hearts, happiness in our days,

silence a few times each minute, and fun when we most need it.

Happy Winter Solstice

Around 8:23 AM today, Dec. 21, the Sun begins its long journey toward longer days.  Nevertheless, today will be the shortest day of the year, a traditional time of turning within, rest, and contemplation.

Winter Solstice 2017

Slough Camp to Benham Falls

Des chutes River from trail between Slough Camp and Benham Falls.
Late Fall colors above Slough Camp.
A quiet day amongst the changing colors.

Yesterday Isabella and I explored a different  walking trail.  We drove  just west of Bend up Century Drive, turned off on the road to Benham Falls and ended up at Slough Camp.  From Slough Camp’s parking lot we headed on foot towards Benham Falls, about 2.5 miles. I hadn’t been up in this area for ages.  It brought back a fun/funny memory. In The 60’s when I was attending COCC my folks sent me $70. a month for rent, food, gas, etc. One memorable month I out-spent the month by two weeks and had only a dime to last until next payday.  No problem, well not really.  For food I, every day, fished the Deschutes and lived on the catch of the day – trout. I ate fried trout, baked trout, boiled trout, and fried trout again.  The dime I had bought me two lemons from the market on Franklin St. just two blocks from my apartment.  Bend was so compact and easy back then. Anyway, Slough Camp was one of my fishing spots and it felt good to be back, although I’m happy to hike and not fish.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The forest waiting for winter as far as one can see.

Isabella found a place where she could get to the river for a drink without tromping through brush and river grasses.  She took off over a little embankment that looked almost straight down to me.  I questioned her ability to get herself out of that hole, but she did it, eventually.  I let her rest a bit, me too, before we carried on.  It was such a beautiful, quiet Fall day, and I’m grateful for every minute of it.

How are you going to get back up?
Last Days of Autumn 2017

 

Into the Woods

PTH Art

Another beautiful Fall day in Central Oregon.  Isabella and I headed out to do a little exploring, nothing dangerous or even very adventurous, but I though we’d try some new trails.  After all the years I’ve lived in Bend, I have not spent much time roaming around Phil’s Trail Head, so I don’t really know the lay of the land.  In fact, a few years ago, I did get quite lost, twice in one year.

Here’s my excuse, for getting lost that is.  We left one bright sunny morning from the parking lot and headed west on Kent’s trail. After walking several miles I noticed was getting a little tired and decided to head back to the car.  Not wanting to see the same scenery twice in one day, I headed south, I thought,  with good intentions of catching Phil’s trail which was, logically, “right over there.”  Ha!  Not only was it not “right over there,” but the clouds rolled in and, directionally speaking, and I was sunk.  Galumphing over pine needles, cones and various other beautiful objects that make up the forest floor, I wasn’t even able to decide what was up hill (Skinner’s or maybe Eugene) or down hill (Bend or maybe LaPine).

Somewhere in a science or physiology class I had learned that humans have a small deposit of lead or another metal material that sits just above the bridge of the nose in the lower part of the forehead.  It was believed that that piece of metal worked as a internal compass assisting us in the general navigation of life.   Well, guess what?  I didn’t get one of those.  Knowing there had to be a trail somewhere fairly close, I carried on. At least an hour later, alas the hallucinations began.  Just ahead, I came upon signs of life.  There it was, the Galveston/14th street turn circle with the  Big Red Chicken sitting right in front of me.  Something wasn’t right though.  Things were all distorted.  The chicken before me had shrunk.  Must be Galveston’s baby, the Little Red Chicken.  At closer range it was still a Little Red Chicken.  I touched it.  “What are you doing out here, Little Chicken,” I ask it?  Are you real?

About then a bicyclist came around yon corner.  Thank God.  He was real and a normal man size. He stopped, as did the others behind him.  Pulling myself together mustering the most sane voice I could come up with I ask if “they” knew where the parking lot was.  Pointing down the trail, the same direction their bikes were headed, one guy said, “That way.”  “I knew that,” I smiled.  “Um, how far?”  About an hour on foot. They must have checked out my leg length, or lack there, of when they came up with my ETA.

That was one long day. Oh, did I mention the part where I’d left my water in the car?  How smart is that?  Several months later, when I was smarter, I repeated the same scenario.  I’ll spare myself the details.  I hadn’t really thought of those “lost years” until yesterday, in full sun, including shadows and all the directional cues necessary to activate my internal compass, after walking longer than I thought my return trip to the car would take, and on a well used trail, a sinking feeling re-emerged.  Really? No, I am not lost.  Just keep going.   I did. That was good advise, as soon I came to a surprise, to me, art installation pictured below.  I know a biscillion Bend-its and tourist have passed this place a biscillion times…and know it’s less than a mile to the  PTH parking lot.  Please don’t make fun of me.  OK?  So I’m old-er.  I do this kind of stuff.

As for art, I’m proud of the place I live in and the many opportunities that are available to display art throughout our town…and forests.  The “Little Red Chicken” was a fantastic surprise, right out there in the woods all by its little red self.  And the tinkling of the cog wheels moving in the breeze, well, I found that installation a simple and telling display of the hearts of the folks who maintain Phil’s trials and the bike clubs who are a strong presence…ie, the Skyliner’s Road update.  May “ART” prevail.  Some say it will save the world.

More art at PTH
Chimes in the woods at PTH
Isabella, Come on.  We’re not lost

Sunflowers All Around

All around the country side and in the city I see the fullness and fruition of summer’s dream.  Sunflowers. Short ones, medium size and  tall massive forests of happy faces bounce in the breeze seemingly celebrating their very existence.  I want to learn how to let them to grow in my garden, when I get a garden, but for now I’ll simply paint another pretty posy hoping I can do justice to its essence.  Essence is key in my art and allows my imagination to rule.

Watercolor on paper
15X22 unframed

Fall Equinox

There are special days in each year that carve memories, not all real great but most are great and worth celebrating.  My favorites are Christmas, birthdays, anniversaries, Solstices, Equinoxes, and on and on.  But, every year the real winner in my book is that awaited day that usually comes sometime in the Fall, after the rains have come, the temperature drops, we’re socked in for a couple of days – and then the clouds lift.  Bam! There on the horizon the most stunning gift of nature looms.  Brilliant, white with snow, and beautiful beyond thought are the four mountains that seem to keep watch over the foothills and towns below.

IT HAPPENED THIS MORNING ON THE FALL EQUINOX

Morning Magic

 

After THE Winter – of all Winters

After the long hard winter and a lingering spring, summer has finally arrived.  The first of the fruit crops are showing up in outdoor stands and markets all over Bend.  I didn’t notice the normal influx of strawberries this year, but the cherries are abundant stacked mostly in the open trunks and back seats of cars dotting parking lots sporting little hand made signs reading, “Cherries 4 Sale” or “Cheries for Sale” or CHERRIES for SALE.  Maybe they’ve come from Madras or the Valley.

Hans, my youngest son, and his wife Flora are paddle boarding on Elk Lake today, and tomorrow they will ski Mt. Bachelor.  For the first time in years, on this 4th of July weekend, the mountains are still hidden under a heavy blanket of snow.  The lakes and the streams are full, of very cold water, and running at a swift pace, just as in times past.  In the early 1960’s the US Olympic ski team trained on the glaciers of Mt. Bachelor during the summer.  They stayed at Elk Lake Lodge where I worked for several years.  It was fun to get to know them.

Terry, Renee, Ellie and Jade are enjoying a few days in the Wallowa’s.  Those mountains are stunning, and the little town of Joseph nestled in the foothills of those wild peaks is so peaceful and welcoming…and a long ways from anything.

My youngest step son Matt and his nineteen year old son Jacob paid a surprise visit this week. They have just left after two wonderful days together.  The three of us talked non-stop.  Last night we sat by the fire circle on my back deck and kept the neighbors awake chatting until almost midnight.  Matt is an anesthesiologist in DC and, accompanied by his son, was headed to Korea for a year’s military assignment.  He and Jacob missed their flight in Seattle which gave them about three days to spend as they wished, so I got the call Thursday saying  that they would be here Friday.  We haven’t seen one another for seventeen years.  We picked up right where we left off as if only a day had passed.  This visit was a 100% blessing for the three of us.

The weekend will find me back up in the mountains escaping the thundering of speeding cars roaring at high speeds by my new house.  Somedays I think the noise is not too bad.  Other days I just want to run away and go back home.  As we know, there’s no place to run, and there’s no turning back.  I remember a sprawling cherry tree that grew on the bank above Burnside Ave. in Portland.  It seemed very happy and healthy in the midst of heavy traffic and noise much louder than I deal with.

So, MOTS, (moral of the story) is, be a cherry, grow lots of leaves, sparkle in the sun and celebrate life no matter what.

Look Out Your Window and Be Grateful

“Wars are poor chisels for carving out peaceful tomorrows.”  Martin Luther King

The sweet image below was painted by Yael Maimon,  an Israeli woman living 8 miles from the Gaza Strip.   This painting is featured in the February 2017 issue of Watercolor Magic, with the following thought from the artist:

     If you  look our your window at peaceful scenery, you have reason to be grateful.

 Let us all live in a world of peace.

War Zone by Yael Maimon