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the path back is the path forward

Category Archives: nature


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breathe. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

in the middle of the guided imagery, she says the words, “like a lake with no ripples.” even now – really, anytime – i can hear the rise and fall of her voice, the rhythm of these words, the feeling of them as they fall upon my mind’s eye.

guided imagery is a form of meditation that seems to work better for me than silent meditation – which is a field day for my mind to wander. i know i need more practice, for i do not have a quiet mind. instead, i am list-making, worrying, fretting over details. guided imagery takes me on specific paths and i try to steer away from distraction accordingly.

in these times we have found that – at the end of our daily exercise regimen – listening to an evocative piece of music helps us. the cinematic painting the music creates flushes out some of the other stuff – the stuff that’s nagging us. following the music we turn on the guided imagery. i mean, eighteen minutes on a yoga mat just laying and listening is not to be underestimated.

if i have any trouble with the “like a lake with no ripples” my mind conjures up our lake – on days like this.

glassy-like – ever so gently – i hold this tenderly – the sky low on the horizon the color of mango sorbet, the aquamarine and navy blue water seemingly waiting for the slightest pin-drop, the tiniest movement, with the softest waves rolling into the shoreline.

my sweet momma and poppo – in their last years together – lived on a little lake. they would sit for hours and watch the lake, the waterfowl, rain on the surface, any rippling result of wind passing over the body of water.

neither of them did any sort of meditation. but this was – indeed – their form of seeking peace, seeking quieted minds. i have no doubt that their little lake was a panacea for them in many ways…for contemplation, musing, reflection. though mindfulness may not have been an active or conscious pursuit, they – unknowingly – pursued it nonetheless.

with everything that is happening around us these days – in these times, in our life, in this country, in this world – we find we must proactively and intentionally set about finding ways to quiet our minds and bodies.

i am still working at it, but – i must say – finding my way to that place of mind-body balance feels like one of the most important things. it’s called a practice for a reason, i suppose. there is always a place to reach for that stills the wandering of your mind and brings focus back to your breath.

there is always a place where my mind might reflect this beautiful lake with no ripples and where my body might breathe as gently as the waves that lap on this shoreline.

*****

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from our backdoor. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

we have been spending a lot of time near home these days. with the uncertainty of our sweet old dogga, it is nearly impossible to make any plans to go away. we need to be here with him – through all the challenges his senior roller coaster presents.

and so, our hikes-for-miles are exchanged for walks-for-miles and are from our backdoor.

we take them at different times of day and in different weather. it is truly gobsmacking what is right nearby and, on these days close-to-home, we are taking care to notice that and appreciate it.

late on a stunning late-september afternoon – delaying dinner prep for a couple hours – we took off from home.

walking east along the marina we could see the smallest softest-pink half circle rising out of the lake. as we got closer, the pastel palette of sky continued to change hue – and the harvest moon began to make its way into the horizon.

we did absolutely nothing to help this moonrise – we simply stood in awe, staring at its stellar performance, soaking in the sheer beauty, the predictability of a moonrise, the comfort of something so normal yet so entirely gorgeous.

after a bit we noticed that many people had gathered on the rocks to watch, also obviously enchanted by it, also photographing it.

a sailboat was heading north and passed directly in front of the moon. as it continued to sail, people were comparing notes about their videos and photos of this moment in time – a moment we had all shared.

it was as if everyone was – for these minutes – on the same page. we could all agree that this soft-pink harvest moonrise was glorious.

if only all the rest of life-these-days were as aligned.

*****

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stressed. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

littlebabyscion has almost 287,000 miles on it. this little xb has traveled far and wide with me – always keeping me (and then, us) safe. the rocker panel skirt on the passenger side is now held on by a black zip tie (black so as not to draw attention to itself), but LBS has continued to proudly zip us around town, even with its unglamorous wheel rims.

we hadn’t driven it in a bit – there is no longer a/c in it and the humid summer days made it hot-as-heck without a/c – but we were weary of spending $100 to fill up big red in the current days of this country’s dysfunction. so, as it cooled down, we decided to switch the two in our one-car driveway and zip around in LBS again. (plus, big red was making a few strange noises and needed an appointment with steve.)

it felt like freedom driving LBS again – to move around in a much smaller vehicle that is not drinking up a gallon of gas just to go to and return from the grocery store.

and there it was – that sound. undeniable. LBS needed yet another new “lifetime” muffler and exhaust system. this little vehicle left no room for debate as this attention-getting sound got louder and louder and as the fumes in the vehicle necessitated wide open windows. asphyxiation was not a part of the equation, so wide open windows it was.

the signs were there. so was the list of other issues that the mechanic presented us with…oy! we made an appointment and the “lifetime” exhaust system was replaced. even though it was a “lifetime” warranty, i’ll just point out that doesn’t include labor, of course. but LBS wasn’t going to function properly without it. and it was warning us that we could be inundated by the fumes. it would be on us – and our own willful stupidity – if we asphyxiated after LBS clearly warned us.

breck – our aspen out back – is in stress mode. whether the high heat of the summer, or a water (too much/too little) issue or some sort of disease, some of its leaves have some dark spots and curled edges. we will likely go to the local tree nursery and ask a few questions; we want to be sure to help breck prevail. and – much like LBS – it is telling us it is stressed.

how anything in this world could be anything but stressed right now is beyond me.

we are trying – with an exercise regimen, with long daily walks, with some deliberate meditation – to mediate this stress. i can’t say it is entirely helping, but i also must say that it is not hurting. staying grounded and steady, moving forward with goodness and truth, caring about our democracy and the virtue of its ideals and laws as they impact the whole populace – these require a constancy that rides stress like a bucking bronco and holds on.

in less than twenty days, it will be time to vote. there are dark spots and curling edges freaking everywhere now – in every dark and morally vacuous corner of the current administration’s intentions.

while the whole entire tree is not yet entirely and grossly affected, we need to take action and do whatever needs to be done to eradicate that which is stressing breck, that which could snuff its very life.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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particularly now. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

for years now, walter and irma have had an ongoing spat about our backyard. they have argued over and over about whether or not we would everrrr get a flat feeder for them – this beautiful pair of cardinals who are loyal to our address.

every time walter would moan and complain irma would reassure him, “i know they will get one. just be patient,” she’d tweet at him, admonishing him for his lack of faith.

we have a “regular” hanging birdfeeder and we have a handed-down standing birdfeeder (which, right now, we aren’t stocking since it has been a source of sustenance for a very large raccoon family who are likely the culprits doing damage to our roof and our neighbor’s.)

but the flat feeder we had in our sights was a bit out of reach for our budget – wild birds unlimited has a really fabulous set-up: a pole that discourages even acrobatic squirrels (of which we have plenty), a little umbrella and flat feeder, various other feeders for various other species of birds and all in recycled plastic that should last throughout the seasons. just not really in the line-up of things-to-buy right now.

so walter was kind of right – his kvetching about our slow response to their flat-feeder-needs might have been well-earned.

until this week.

d and i love to watch our birds. particularly in these times. we sit on the deck or out on the patio (or even in the sunroom at our bistro table by the window) and watch them fly in and out, at the feeder, on the top of barney, at the birdbath or the pond – getting sips of water. they warm our hearts – these innocent creatures. they calm our spirits and they do us good.

it suddenly occurred to us that we might be able to just simply build our own flat feeder – out of scraps of wood in the basement – in order to at least tide over these cardinals and finches – particularly walter and irma – who like to eat their schnibbly seeds while looking all around them to keep safe.

we can totally understand the need to look all around to stay safe. we are all in that mode these days, i’d say. this country is giving us a run at what we can make our own efforts to save our democracy – to push back lurking authoritarianism that is the apex predator for us all.

and so we went into the basement and found the exact right size piece of scrap wood. some paint, glue and four screws, some hooks, some jute, screen that was rolled up in the rafter, and a shower hook later, we were ready for the royal couple.

d did the honor of hanging the feeder on the pole. we clapped and sat back and waited.

nothing happened.

not one bird even ventured near it.

here we were, trying our best to address their needs and not one of them even explored our new flat feeder.

the next day was the same.

and so was the next.

it was somewhat depressing.

and then….it happened.

suddenly, there was a cardinal on the edge of the feeder. and then he moved INTO the feeder. and then he started to munch on the safflower in there!!

not a big moment in the overall scheme of things – particularly now – but a moment nonetheless.

for we saw a need and we tried to address it. even the creatures and critters around us have needs. it may not be fancy – or the most perfect flat feeder – but in these times if we just all do the best we can, offer the best we can – in every way – it makes a difference.

walter and irma perched on the fence at the back line.

irma glanced over at walter, “see?” she said.

from the patio, i swear i could see walter rolling his eyes.

but i also could hear his tiny brain, “she’s always right.”

even so, he turned toward her. and with a belly full of safflower seeds, he chirped to irma, “i love it.“

we each have a chance to make a positive difference in these days. whether big or small – or even tiny – everything counts. in our own homes, in the backyard, in the ‘hood or our community, in our state and in our country, in this beautiful world – which desperately needs us to participate in goodness. particularly now.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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spikelet awns in the house. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

soon and very soon we will have to trim the stunning plumes off the grasses in the backyard. dogga loves to walk right alongside these grasses and the spikelets attach to his fur. posing as perfectly harmless golden seedheads, these little spikelet awns end up on our bed, in our socks, on the area rug in the living room – and ultimately stab us repeatedly, until one finds the source of the pain and removes it.

last year…as fall progressed and the number of spikey jabs increased, it occurred (slowly) to us to remove the source – and so we reluctantly trimmed the plumes out back, even though the way they catch the sunlight is remarkable.

nevertheless, they somehow sneak in, these tiny posers. and we heroically hold up one or two showing each other that we have literally saved the other’s life.

it’s those sneaker-inners that plague us…like needles from a long-gone christmas tree…they show up…and the longer they are around, the dryer and pointier they get. so it is important to try and eradicate them from inside the house as soon as possible.

ahhh…speaking of eradicating them from inside the house – we are ever closer to midterms and the big house – that-white-one-that-no-longer-has-an-east-wing – the one that every single one of us owns – that house needs big time eradication of the posers lodged there.

any reason to continue to tolerate that which brings pain is not acceptable.

they are seeding nothing but cruelty, bigotry, gluttony, self-serving agenda. and it is all at our peril.

we are wise enough to remove the spikelet awns from our comforter, our rugs, our socks.

we must remove the same from the leadership of our country.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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things enchanting. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

such beauty.

i don’t know who – in our town’s parks department – is responsible for plotting what will be planted in the big urn planters around the city or in the hanging pots or in the gardens…but my hat is off to that person. their grasp of color and texture and how they all juxtapose with each other is exquisite. and it shows in each and every planter and garden.

regardless of who it is – precisely, who is the designer – there are many, many others on crews who spend all their working hours tending these gardens, watering and weeding and deadheading – the zillion little tasks that make a garden look effortlessly stunning.

our city has taken inordinate care of these gardens and planting vessels all through the years, preserving the zen people feel while walking in and amongst the yield of this hard work. we are both proud of these gardens and grateful for them, walking through practically every day, noticing the tiny nuances of change as the seasons move – the late spring planting into summer into fall. the smell of cocoa mulch permeates the garden down by the lake and – between the scent of flowers and cocoa – it is enchanting and heavenly.

eric hanson’s video speaks to the current administration’s shrinking of national monuments bears’ ears and grand staircase-escalante national monuments. no small reduction, these federally protected lands lost 90% of their acreage. this reduction opens these lands up to private exploitation, ignoring the native spiritual and conservation environmental regulations that kept them safe and not accessible to road-building or the deployment of heavy machinery for resource mining. these vulnerable lands are gorgeous, part of the history of these United States, enchanting and inviting, a piece of heaven not only for native peoples but for the entire populace of this nation – which – as the video pointed out – are literally owned by we-the-people.

why it is that the administration would work to eliminate protecting the natural beauty of our country is truly beyond the scope of my imagination. so is the rest of what this administration is doing – i simply cannot comprehend the vile, heinous stuff they are – ruthlessly – enacting.

each day our at-least-3.5-mile walk takes us past our city’s gardens and planters along the harbor channel and inland around the marina. each day we are grateful for the careful attention paid to these places of beauty.

the times i have been in utah’s canyonlands or near any of its wild have spoken to my soul. there is a deep root connection to the earth there, a glorious sense of the freedom that is supposedly the law of this land, and sheer enchantment and wonder at how anything could possibly be so stunning.

again, i say, they-in-this-administration have no reverence. for anything.

and as a person with a finite life – just like all of them – i cannot begin to grok the shortsightedness of that.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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fleur-de-lis thoughts. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

the tidbit server is an etched clear glass tray – vintage fostoria from the 30s or maybe a tad closer to mid-century – with a fleur-de-lis finial in the center. though difficult to store, it is a lovely piece passed down to me and i keep it at hand so that i might use it from time to time. i thought about this tray the instant we passed by the canna lily on the sidewalk by the art center. the brilliant orange-red petals – aglow with noon sun – curled back from the center, revealing nature’s fleur-de-lis, right there, just waiting for us.

we walked home and i looked in the corner cabinet built into our dining room – just to say hello to this piece, remembering my sweet momma using it on special occasions and recommitting to using it any old time.

we were at old navy browsing. they were having big sales and plain black sweatshirts were a part of the sale: $20! – less than half price! it’s been a long time since we each got a new sweatshirt – years, really – so we looked for a couple in big, cozy oversizes, and splurged. just the idea of a new sweatshirt for the fall days and nights rapidly approaching made us excited. we know there is a low bar for eliciting our excitement, but, heck, new yummy sweatshirts would make anyone pretty gleeful.

we imagined walking in all our favorite places with these new sweatshirts. and, though we are not traveling these days – instead, staying at home with our aging dogga – we could well imagine wearing these in the mountains, on the coast, up north, in canyonlands, out in the desert after sunset.

it also means, maybe, that some of our ancient sweatshirts may move on. well, except for the north face clearance ones that are falling apart from close to a dozen years of wear and tear. or the old zip-up that d uses when he paints in his studio. or the cropped zip-up i wore on every single solo roadtrip i took for years – like a reassuring, protective guardian – my support hoodie – now at least 25 years old – with no cuffs left to be found and a paper clip as a zipper pull. yeah, these will not go – no one else would want them, nor would we even give away such shoddy shirts with so much meaning.

but there are others – sweatshirts i collected over the years touting places or universities or organizations. some of those are in very good condition and still have lots of wearing to be done.

it’s a funny thing about old stuff. a few years back i thought that this fleur-de-lis glass tray might be a good thing to move on – to sell to someone who might really relish its vintage beauty, who might use it in regular rotation.

and then i realized that person is me.

the etched glass tray and the tattered papercliphoodie are in different classes entirely. but they are both expressions of who i am, where i have come from, where i might be going.

as soon as the beakyrule has run its course – and i can wear the brand new thing – i’ll be wearing that new black sweatshirt, being all cozy-like. hopefully it will feel just right, right away.

in the meanwhile, it’ll just have to wait for its wings, sitting patiently on the cedar chest in our room, on top of the old quilt and under my sunhat.

the next time we passed the canna lily, it was no longer in fleur-de-lis position, a ballerina in positions of grace. it had withered a bit, its petals less reaching-for-the-sun, more cuff-less and zipperpull-less, but, i noted, no less of a blossom.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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a little more mum. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

after all the rain – followed by some big dashes of cold – i thought that the potting stand would be done-in. i figured that any tiny cherry tomatoes would have fallen off the vine, that the basil would be drowning, that the mint would have given up, that the jalapeños would stop being-a-pepper. i was concerned about the rest too…the sweet potato vine, the fern, the licorice plant, the tiny purple flowers in planters. i wasn’t sure i was ready for what that would mean – the end of summer – even though we are now past the official date for the start of fall.

i haven’t really been a mum person. truth be told, i’m not sure what a mum-person is, but i just know I haven’t gravitated toward mums. despite their unrelenting determination to bloom and to flourish in the roller coaster of autumn, i think it might be how structured a mum tends to look….a tight little ball of green with lots and lots of buds just waiting to burst into color. now, i don’t know if there could be anything at all wrong with such a plant – we all need that kind of steadfastness, that kind of dogged dedication to blooming. there was just always something stopping me from mumming.

until this year.

our friends have a black cherry mum on their front steps – its blooms the color of deeply ripe bings in the summer, the color of the name of one of my favorite “sodas” growing up, the only color of choir robe i ever thought was aesthetically appropriate for everyone in a choir (should robes be necessary at all). their mum…stunning.

i commented on this mum and they promptly told me they had gotten it at the local grocery store, which has a plethora of them out front – all different colors.

the next day they texted that the price had been reduced – to $12. now, this is a really big plant. and full of potential blossoming mum-flowers. and so…

we went to the grocery store that morning and chose our new mum-plant to come home with us, gently placing it in the back seat of big red.

it has exploded with gorgeous blooms and has been absolutely steady and unperturbed all through the torrential rains we had after its homecoming. like it is…carefree.

now, “carefree” is not a word i would have used to describe a mum – unlike the wildly growing ornamental grasses in our yard, it seems to have more framework, more parameters for its growth, a tad bit more structure. hmmm.

we have recently discovered that – in lieu of doing chores as needed – there are some things that work better within a charlie’s-plan kind of plan. certain days or dates for certain things – a tad bit more structure – it takes away the spontaneity yet – surprisingly – frees up space.

in essence, we have found that it can be effective to be a little more mum.

and so, our little black cherry plant sits on our deck and giggles, “and they thought they weren’t mum-people.”

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this NOT-SO-FLAWED WEDNESDAY

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little by little. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

it seems impossible. how did we get to the end of september? where has all the time gone?

in the middle of the chaos that is now this country’s daily life, we have lost time. it would seem we have lost more than that.

the leaf is on the sidewalk. it looks like someone has crayoned around the edges.

little by little chlorophyll is lost from the leaf, brown steadily moves inward, closer and closer to the stem.

little by little the chaos seeps into the country’s veins, the inhumanity is normalized, the rights disappear, the constitution is ignored.

little by little necrosis seeps toward the innermost part of the leaf.

little by little authoritarianism seeps into the heart, the law of the people.

little by little the leaf curls to its cells dying.

little by little people are silent – or – are silenced. little by little air is removed from the populace.

how is this even real life?

the leaf is browning – from stress, lack of water, damage. it is dying – from the outside in. it feels too metaphoric to even write about.

the goodness is fading – from gluttony, grift, damaging corruption, out-and-out cruelty. the country is flailing.

how much green is left? where has all the time gone?

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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rain is rain. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

a very long time ago – decades – my friend joe-z took me on the curvy, hilly route 25A on long island – east of northport – to teach me how to drive his datsun 240Z.

at the time my own car was my 1971 volkswagen superbeetle bug, so i was driving something that was quite a bit more tame than the 240Z – ok, a lot more tame than the 240Z.

his red z-car was powerful, low to the ground, with a very responsive suspension and tight steering. it was a lot to handle if you wanted to take it to its limits. i remember it as being stick shift – four on the floor – like my bug.

i was timid as we started, the curves of the road intimidating, the hills and slanted roadway a bit nerve-wracking with this much power in my hands.

but joe-z was patient and had time to spend. and, among other things, he taught me that driving into the curves – accelerating – would give me the ability to control the curves and not have the curves control me.

i can still remember driving that Z, still remember the power under me, still remember the lessons from those times driving that car in various conditions.

so i nodded during the movie the art of racing in the rain when the race car driver character denny said, “no one knows what curves life will throw at you, but if the driver has the courage to create his own conditions, then the rain is simply rain.”

25A’s curves are simply curves. its hills are simply hills. and the road right in front of you is what exists.

in this time of my life, i am finding that courage is the thing that counts. the unpredictability of life can be mind-boggling and sometimes shattering – in so many ways – and accelerating around the curves may well be the only difference between succumbing or having some sort of control.

on these particularly rainy days, we can see that rain is most definitely rain. it can overwhelm the land, communities, spirits.

standing up to the fear of any of that while adapting best as one can may not diminish the rain’s potential impact – we cannot underplay the rain’s havoc-wreaking. but presence, resilience and placing your eyes where you want to go – like the race car driver in the movie – can help survive the conditions.

we can learn from each other – lessons that generalize over spectrums of life: shift our weight in the saddle, press into the turning waterski, sustain-pedal with some reserve, taste food before salting.

rain can simply be rain.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this MERELY-A-THOUGHT MONDAY

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