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the truth of the cattail. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

the sun was getting lower in the sky and was shining through the marsh as we walked past. we hadn’t hiked a long distance that day – only about five miles or so – but we had started late and it was time to mosey home and think about making dinner.

the shadows on the path ahead made me grab my camera to capture a picture. cattails.

their shadows so clear it left little doubt as to what they were, the cattails punctuated the gravel as the end of the trail led up to the trailhead. patterns across the path were spaced like college-ruled spiral notebooks or full and half rests scribed on staff paper.

throughout our hike i kept drawing attention to our shadows on this beautiful blue-sky-sunny day. they changed from a short-stumpy pair of people to two elongated-legged tall people. in every moment, clearly – people. those two people were us, but – were those shadows stamped in time – you could only tell that we were people. nothing more.

what will the shadows of this time look like, later on down the road? when the sun has completely set on a day when the values of this country are no longer upheld, how will those shadows appear? will they show the truth of all this malfeasance? what does corruption look like in a shadow? what do greedy, evil, soulless humans (and i use the term ‘humans’ loosely) look like in their shadows? can you tell they are greedy, evil, soulless?

there is no way to tell – by looking at the shadows of these cattails – the state of their inner being, the truth of the cattail. should we really wish to know we must be careful to discern their health or dis-ease by examining them more closely. we must be willing to know more about cattails and measure their well-being by applying this knowledge. we cannot simply look at their shadows – and not look at them, their environment and their impact on that environment – to determine their vigor, their fitness, their soundness, their dedicated synergy with the rest. the shadows don’t tell the story of stagnant water, dying ponds or an over-abundance of cattails toxically crowding out ecosystems, the risk of flooding or being a prime pest habitat, a dangerous breeding ground of illness.

we must be willing to look at the cattails for what they are, what they represent, how they are sharing space. we must be willing to discern their true impact – good or bad. we must look at the cattails themselves and not their shadowy shadows. anything less could kill the marsh and forever pollute the pond.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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slow-blinking with the opossum. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

it seemed to trust us as we approached on the trail. this sweet opossum calmly stayed where it was even as we got closer. eventually, it ambled into the brush nearby, but, still, really close. we spoke to it in hushed tones, trying to reassure it that we meant no harm. i took a couple of photographs as it slow-blinked at me from under some grasses. it was a wonderful start to our hike, grounding us and pushing worries back.

“get outside!” kristy always ends the wander women video with this directive. she and annette have created a lifestyle of activity, of the outdoors, of community, of simple values. i’d venture a guess that we could be fast friends. they do not concern themselves with fashion or decorating trends or competition or vast material possessions. instead, their living is based on the certainty of mortality – of doing the best they can, the most they can, exploring and tapping all the goodness out of each day.

we were at REI the other day. we pored over backpacks and all-things-trail-friendly. we studied sunshirts and sleeping pads. i purchased two pairs of toe socks for hiking – my toes have issues with each other inside my hiking boots so we are hoping that these will help – in lieu of bandaids and walking funny. we are dedicated to our trails, even the local ones. tapping as much goodness out of each day seems a good plan, particularly in light of all the uncertainty that surrounds us.

i’m not sure how we could handle everything going on in the world if we did not get outside. even cold wind in our faces makes us feel more alive, more centered than anything else might. these days of beautiful weather have been gifts and – for a few minutes here or there – have helped us to set aside our worries and angst about the direction of this country.

i happen to know – really – that the sweet opossum did not have the same fixation on the state of the nation. it merely had basic needs to be met…safety being one of the most basic.

i suppose we are much like this critter. from somewhere high above – looking down at us – we probably look much the same. cautiously watching as others approach, trying to discern whether or not they are safe or if they pose a threat. retreating to the underbrush, slow-blinking at the intruders – still trying to discern their intent, whether or not they will interact.

it sounds a lot like going to the grocery store these days.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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

there is something deeply rewarding about hiking on a snow-covered trail.

at any moment, you can turn around and see evidence of your having been there, evidence of your passing-through. there is no question. you have been there.

for us, the imprint of our hiking shoes meshed with a couple other boots, hoof prints of deer, tiny handprints of raccoons, the triangular prints of bunnies, the familiar prints of squirrels with a few dog paw prints and horseshoes. we had all passed by. separately. together. in community.

in the quietude of the snowscape, we pushed on a bit further. it had been a bit since we had been hiking outside – the weather was frigid and there were other things on our plate. but the peacefulness of the woods, the partially-frozen river, the familiar wind of the trail kept us going on this day.

though there is less variation in color on this winter’s day, there are innumerable textures and the fine differences in muted tones are peaceful, surrounding us in hushed comfort – like an old quilt – despite the cold wind.

this particular trail is an out-and-back. and so, we encountered our own footprints in every turn of the path on our way back. anyone hiking after us would wonder who had walked before, just as we wondered the same.

arriving at the trailhead and then littlebabyscion we were tired. but ever reminded that we each choose our path. we choose what to leave behind – our prints on the world – our existing – from the boots we wear to the care we have for all else on our path. we are cohabitants on this good earth. it is up to each of us us to sustain mutual respect in the all-too-finite.

there will be some evidence of our passing-through. it is my hope that what we leave – in the snow, in the dirt, in any wake we leave from our time here – will be as peaceful as this muted winter day on our trail.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

INSTRUMENT OF PEACE – mixed media 48″ x 91″

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in the meanwhile. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

“on the day when the weight deadens on your shoulders and you stumble, may the clay dance to balance you.” (bennacht – john o’donohue)

in the meanwhile we keep hiking the trails nearby…the bike trail, state forests, nature preserves, state parks,, county parks. there are times (though never enough) we are in colorado or utah or north carolina and there are mountains or red rock to hike, deserts and canyons to explore, waterfalls to discover. but most of the time we are here. and here is where we hike. nevertheless, we keep it fresh, each time.

we’ll continue to sort life on these trails. with everything that has taken place in these last years – and, devastatingly, this week – there is plenty to sort, lots to process. these trails help us stay present – not get lost in the chaos of tangled underbrush, not get too waylaid by the terrifying what-could-happens. one step at a time, one foot in front of another.

i’m writing this at sixteen minutes after noon eastern time on monday. i have a pounding headache right now and my breathing is shallow. even without watching we can feel it in the air. the changeover. the democracy axis tipping to the oligarchs on the dais. there is a wafting scent of narcissism and revenge and you can feel the gloat descending like storm clouds. presence is damn necessary now.

“…a lot of evil happens because of ignorance and of numbness…” (john o’donohue)

so in the meanwhile – the time between this new now and whenever evil releases its cruel grip – we’ll seek the spaces that keep us in beauty. we’ll find others as they, too, look for the beautiful, the simple. and we’ll hold fast to the clay under our feet.

*****

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

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what will be the Real? [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

it was almost like a reverse-print. the trail revealed only the snow-footprints left behind.

i studied photography a bit in college. this trail was like the negative of the positive. in darkroom speak, a “negative” is a reversed image – the dark is light and vice versa – when you shine light through the negative onto the paper upon which you’re printing, the tones revert back to their correct appearance, to that which is Real.

the snow of the trail had blown off, save for the footprints. as people used to seeing footprints stamped in the snow, it is somewhat odd to see just the snowprints on a dirt trail.

i couldn’t help but ponder the parallel.

what will we leave behind as our footprints in 2025? what impression will we make? what impact will we have? what will people see on the path after we have walked on?

when we shine light through all we are, all we do, all we say in 2025, what will be the Real printed for all time?

*****

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

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taps. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

sometimes at the end of the day we can hear the bagpiper playing on the lakefront. it’s a bit haunting. and it makes me think of buglers who trumpet taps: “day is done. gone the sun, from the lake, from the hills, from the sky. all is well, safely rest, god is nigh.”

we often hike in the afternoon – after all our tasks are finished. so it is not unusual that we run into the sun setting as we begin to return toward the trailhead. and now, in these late autumn days, that is happening earlier and earlier.

it was particularly beautiful to see the sun on the day i took this photograph. it had been cloudy and we didn’t expect the sun to pop through above the bank of clouds just over the horizon. we were grateful.

i’m guessing that this is the way to move into these uncertain times. to note the clouds and to be grateful for the sun. we are troubled, much like you might be as well. we can’t pretend that everything is coming up roses or that this future will be smooth sailing. but it is doing our hearts and souls harm to linger constantly in the toxicity that was voted in. i certainly have spoken my piece about all that.

i also can’t simply play taps to our country. because all is not well, because i don’t feel like i can safely rest and because I’m thinking god may not be being all peaceful-nigh-like watching hypocritical thuggish people steeped in bigotry, revenge, cruelty being all righteous in his name. so taps is on hold.

i will, however, lean on the day, the sun, the lake, the hills and the sky to remind me of what is really, truly real, what is really, truly beautiful. i will be mindful of the importance of the each-others in our lives. i will draw strength from any and all light around me, around us – including the unexpected elusive sun setting in cloudy dusk.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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the trees. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

we know these trees. we have walked this trail amid these trees for years now, processing life as we go. they are familiar to us; they feel like chosen family – waiting for us, to hear our voices, our laughter, the crunch of our boots on dirt, pebbles, leaves. they are curious – to hear snippets of challenges, of joys, of sorting – bits and snatches of our conversation as we hike.

these trees – all of them – the sculptural, the leafless, the verdant, the not-yet-shed-their-leaves, the evergreen – hold us, help us feel secure in this place, in this world. the curve of the trail – how we know it well – gives us pause in worry, recognizing the reassurance of the known.

there are three or four trails like that here. memorized, well-loved, never surprising and always full of stunning surprises. there is a specific trail – through stands of aspen trees – on a ridge in aspen. there is a specific trail – with the pungent scent of pine trees – along a mountain stream in breck. if we could teleport there – to either of those trails – we would. for they both speak to our very souls.

“and into the forest i go, to lose my mind and find my soul.” (john muir)

we return home – to this place on earth that can both travel with us and be acutely found in our cozy old house – with less-burdened hearts. though sometimes momentary – in a world leaning into insanity – the trail tucks wisdom-bits into us and we bring home space that reminds us to breathe in the very minute we are in, grounding us.

and so, we try to go here – to the close-by – often. especially now.

we are aware of beauty. we both notice it and look for it.

we walk and talk. we walk in silence.

and the trees tap us on the shoulder as we pass and whisper sweet nothings to us.

*****

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

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the cattails. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

cattails feel like home to me.

i grew up on long island – which is, quite obviously by definition, surrounded by water. i spent the vast majority of my time outside at the beach. winter, spring, summer and fall. pebbly beaches along the sound, sandy dunes along the ocean, beach grasses and willowy reeds dominate the vegetation and, so, seeing cattails is like seeing home.

the next time we go there i’ll spend a good bit of time at those beaches. it will be time to reclaim them, to reclaim that place.

it is no surprise to learn that these plants that pull at my heart – cattails – are resilient and adaptable, persistent and resourceful, able to flourish in all kinds of circumstances and under adverse conditions.

spiritually, they symbolize peace and tranquility – the very things i always felt at those beaches back in the day, the same thing i feel as we hike through portions of our trail where we are dwarfed by the cattails surrounding us.

i slow down in those sections, soaking up the denseness of these stands on both sides of the trail. seagulls and red-winged blackbirds elicit the same when i spot them – they zip around and i stand – transported back in time to the marshland on my way to crab meadow or the dunes surrounded by sand fencing on fire island. i stand in memory. no wonder i love this trail.

we arrive back home after hiking – a tiny bit sunburned, our legs tired. the grasses and daylilies in the front yard greet us as we pull in. they are robust and their greeting is in chorus. and i realize that these, too, are the plants of the island. these grasses, these daylilies, spilling-over hydrangea, the ferns in the back, the hosta, sweet lavender…they are the plantings of the waterfront; they are familiar.

we surround ourselves purposefully – and sometimes unintentionally – with things that help us, things that feel good, things that ground us. we sink roots deep and move in the wind like the reeds in marshes, like cattails in a summer storm. we are resilient and flexible, making do with workarounds and chutzpah. we survive and have unlimited ability to thrive.

we are just like the cattails.

those plants that feel like home.

*****

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

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we kept on going. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

of course it would have been easier to turn around and go back to the car.

but the signs “caution: trail damage ahead” are familiar to us and we just kept on going.

then we saw the first of it. the river had overflowed its banks and covered the trail. i took a few pictures after we decided to keep going. i don’t have pictures of the worst of it. we were too busy navigating the water.

but, yeah, we could have turned around.

we didn’t.

it was a stunning day – really, remarkable out – and we had on sandals that were fit for the river. so we kept going.

we have watched countless pacific crest, appalachian, continental divide, colorado, arizona trail videos. and in all of them hikers are forging streams and rivers, slogging through water and mud. watching, i have wondered – in a mildly curious and very respectful way – what it feels like to encounter these water crossings and to keep hiking with wet socks, wet footwear. not that i haven’t ever walked through puddles – i’ve done that deliberately – but because continuing to hike means also trying to avoid blisters and such. twenty miles plus with wet feet is nothing to sneeze at. big kudos to those thru-hikers.

we looked at each other on the edge of the first flooded area – this particular day we had chosen this particular hike – and we kept going. we needed to. we’ve navigated worse trails in real life – a little water didn’t seem so daunting.

there were some bicyclists on the trail – they had already been through the worst of it. they gave us looks, asked us how we got through, told us they were turning around to avoid it.

but there is nothing like wet feet to cool you off. we hiked about seven miles or so that afternoon – through a lot of water – that reached our mid-calves. it was more than a little water. we were one with frogs and fish – all sharing the trail together. it was all pretty glorious.

keeping-on-going is something we’ve gotten pretty familiar with. not just on the trail.

you don the right sandals and the knowledge you can do it and most crossings are possible. going slow, keeping your balance, not minding discomfort, sloughing off the looks you get – when you are following your path – diligently aware, capable, trying your best – you can dog-with-a-bone keep-on-going.

it doesn’t mean you’ll not stumble. it doesn’t mean you won’t get wet or that you won’t get blisters from the experience. it doesn’t mean you’ll get to the other side without some surprises. there are no guarantees. edges are like that.

what it does mean is that you gave it your all.

we didn’t know how the flooded trail would turn out – how our hike would turn out – but we kept going anyway.

and that day it made all the difference.

*****

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

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kenosha breck. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

it was a burger night. we had been out hiking for hours and needed something substantial to eat. the thing that hadn’t occurred to us – when we headed out to hike – was that it was still winter there – up in higher elevation, the trail tucked into the woods. it was some hard work – even with trekking poles – to stay upright on a very-snowy and mostly-icy hike. each step was calculated and careful. and it was ridiculously beautiful and exhilarating.

so it was a burger night.

we decided that – though, in all the times we have stayed in breckenridge, we have only eaten out once – we would go over to try kenosha breck – a steakhouse whose name combines our home and our fave-place. our intention was to order a burger-to-split and fries to-go.

but the bar – where we would place a to-go order – was in the back of the pub and the doors right adjacent were wide open to fresh air and setting sun and the mountains were visible past the outdoor dining tables and umbrellas and the bartender was super friendly and it wasn’t crowded and there were two stools at the end of the bar closest to the outdoors….so….we stayed. (and the earth shook a little – acknowledging this very unusual decision to eat-out….)

we sat and shared a glass of wine, reviewing our what-felt-treacherous hike and the gorgeous day, the beautiful days preceding it. we chatted with the bartender. we gazed out the open doors, staring at the mountains we would immediately miss when we left the next day. we lingered.

some days a burger and fries and a little wine are the perfect way to end the day. nothing fancy. just a simple meal on a couple stools in a mountain town.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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