Wind

I have memories of wind. Last night as a weather front moved over the valley I laid in bed listening and remembering. I left the window open just enough so I could hear the wind raging as it battered against the house and sent the tree branches outside my window thrashing wildly. Added to the roaring was a cacophony of tones from the wind chimes around the yard. The temperature dropped considerably and the house got cold. I snuggled with the cat under the covers, an extra quilt pulled up for weight. It reminded me of my early childhood when my brother and I would get under the thick, old quilts with Mom and tell stories as the wind whistled on a winters night. Big, thick quilts hand tied and sewn by my paternal great Aunt's in bright colors and fan designs. Ghost and adventure stories told in the dark curled up on Mom's arm. Certain types of wind are comforting.

Mono Lake to the North is one of my most favorite places in the Eastern Sierra. On this particular Fall day a couple of years ago I remember walking out to the shore on the boardwalk in the old Marina area. The wind, really a full gale that day, was wild and cold but I was determined. At times the gusts were so strong I felt as if I was pushing against a wall, walking at an angle against its strength. At the edge of the water I stood into the wind, leaning against it, feeling its full force. I closed my eyes and imagined myself soaring. I could feel spray from the Lake against my face. I don't know how long I stood there but eventually some German tourists made their way out to try and take pictures. It was too much for them and they quickly left probably thinking how strange this American woman was who was standing out here!

I got up in the middle of the night and went and sat on the window seat in the living room. The Moon was bright and lit up the Mesa and the surrounding mountains. I don't know what time it was but the Moon was making its way over the mountains to the South West. A bright star was to her right. Rows of clouds were making their way over Mt. Tom and I sat for a while. I thought of walking on the wide beaches of Cape Cod in the Fall when we were kids, pockets full of seashells, Mom with a big bouquet of reeds and grasses she had picked. The sound of the surf and wind. I thought about the wild storms of Texas; trees bent in half by the wind, hale pelting down, rain water running down the streets in great currents. I remember Mom getting Grandmother into the walk-in closet because she was sure we were having a tornado. I remembered a particular moving day back in Connecticut when I was a teenager. We were being transferred back to the West coast and a hurricane was moving in. We lived in a house that was built in the 1800's. As the rain and wind grew in intensity the front wall of the house seemed to bow inward. I've never seen movers move so fast! Just as the truck pulled out of the drive three old willow trees went down one after the other. Another memory of the house deep in the woods by the creek in Mammoth; wind roaring in the towering pine trees, blowing and piling great drifts of snow against the house and in the morning icicles in twisted designs shaped by the intense winds.

Yesterday afternoon I prepared for the change of weather. I harvested herbs and hung them to dry, potted plants were moved into the sun room and with the rumor of a considerable drop in temperature and knowing the winds out here, I wrapped the tomatoes, peppers, and tomatillos in flannel sheets pinned together with clothes pins and weighted down with rocks. It's been an odd summer with the plants taking their time to fruit. Now that Fall is here the vines are loaded and I don't want to lose it all now. We didn't get a frost but it was 39 degrees around 6:00 a.m. and I felt better knowing they were all tucked in snugly. The wind is still blowing but more gently. A quail is sitting in the tree looking down at me. The sky is blue and cloudless.

When we moved here to the Mesa there was a hummingbird nest in the tree next to the walkway. That mother bird sat on her two tiny eggs as the wind thrashed that branch around. She was steadfast as she sat through the wild ride and that is the lesson isn't it?

Autumn

Another turning of the wheel and now it is Fall once again. There is a difference in the air, it seems softer though here in the high desert the days are still hot. Nights are starting to get cooler. Here and there on the valley floor trees have patches of leaves starting to turn and the sunflowers are dying down. Rabbit bush is brilliant gold and the aspens are starting to change up in the higher altitudes. It is one of my most favorite times of the year.
For me Fall is a defining time, a harvest time yes but also a time of planning for the future. It is a cleaning and clearing out time...the garage has been sorted and reorganized, a yard sale held and what ever did not sell was donated. Closets are systematically gone through and things that need fixing are fixed. Simply put it is a time of getting things put in order. On all levels this seems to be happening in many areas of my life at this time. Change is good!
Of course a large part of Fall is about harvesting. It is time for apples, pumpkins, squash of all kinds (Yeah, my favorites are acorn and butternut!), and time to can and freeze as much as possible. It has been an odd summer though and the tomatillos and tomatoes just seem to be taking their sweet time. We had an early batch and then nothing for a long time. All of a sudden in the past couple of weeks fruit has started in earnest again. I just hope they ripen before the first frost. There is an organic farm south of town where we can pick apples and we plan to make a batch of apple butter and sauce.
Everyone is wooding now too. Everyday I see trucks heavily laden down with wood going down the grade. We have a cord and a half stacked already. When you live in a harsh climate you learn to prepare early.
I love to go in search of interesting seed pods, grasses, leaves, cones and flowers now. I keep a basket in the car in case I spot interesting "roadsideia floribunda" as we used to call it in the floral industry. I collect fall leaves and press them in books and then I use them around the house or I cut a few branches and put them in vases around the house. I start collecting pine cones now, if they are dropping, so as to get them ready for the holidays. I bake them on foil lined cookie sheets at 200 degrees for about 10-15 minutes or until the sap melts and creates a lovely sheen. Let them cool and you won't have sticky sap all over your hands when you work with them.
We took a drive up to South Lake, about 9,800', this past Sunday and it was already spectacular.
The aspens were gold and orange and vibrant. The road follows alongside Bishop creek which flows all the way down to Bishop from the mountains. I stopped and walked out on a foot bridge. Aspens were on both sides of the creek and overhead and they created a colorful frame of the creek and the mountains in the background and a line of color that ran all the way back from where we had started.
Autumn is also about being thankful and grateful and I am everyday. I truly believe that we harvest exactly what we sow so be mindful of the seeds you cast today. Blessings!

Roads

"Two Roads diverged in a yellow wood, ..." and I -

I took the one less traveled by,...

-Robert Frost

Roads beckon to me. They say come follow me and explore...you never know what you will find round the next bend or up over that hill. I love a road that stretches out before me, no traffic behind me pushing me forward, that says take your time. I love to meander and just drive, take my time and see what there is to see.

I got my love of road trips from my Mom. When we were kids, growing up in New England, she'd pack up the car and off we'd go for the day or a weekend. In the Fall we'd drive up Route 5 through Massachusetts and see the fall colors, stop at road side stands for pumpkins and dried flowers and explore antique barns looking for treasure. In the summer we were off to Rhode Island or Cape Cod to walk miles of beach and go camping. If there was a museum or art show she felt we needed to experience in the car we went. No distance was too great. I'll never forget the trip to upstate New York so we could go to the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown. My brothers were in rapture and I couldn't help but think "we drove this far to look at baseballs all day?"

Over the years Mom and I have taken many a road trip vacation together on some memorable roads; the Pacific Coast Highway 101 on the California coast from San Diego to Eureka. There is no road quite like the stretch of Route 1 through Big Sur- incredible scenery with rugged cliffs on the Pacific Ocean, breathtaking but... take it from one who learned the hard way, start early in the day! We started late in the afternoon and as the sun went down the fog started to come in and 75 miles of s-curves in pea soup is not fun. You had to pry my hands from the steering wheel after that trip! I love Highway 49 or the Gold Highway on the other side of the Sierra mountains. A winding country road predominantly that meanders through old mining towns like Volcano and Placerville. A girls weekend spent driving up Highway 12 through the Sonoma valley to Santa Rosa stopping to taste wine and olive oil. We've even driven cross country from the East Coast to the West. Highway 395 through the Sierra Nevada is beautiful too. One of my favorite stretches is through Walker Canyon, winding its way along next to the Walker River through pine forest and of course the road through Yosemite is incredible!

Part of my "blooming where you are planted" philosophy is that I get out and explore my new territory as much as possible. I've found old home foundations and remnants of rock chimneys on the roads to Pine Creek and Lake Sabrina; driven dirt roads looking for petroglyph's out on the mesa and explored off-road through the Buttermilk's; discovered old cemeteries and learned about local history stopping at roadside markers. I've visited with any number of cows and horses along the way, marveled at fields of wild iris and stopped to smell wild roses growing on old wooden fence posts. The mountains change during the day as the sun and shadows highlight the different contours on their path. There is so much beauty in the world to see and experience and that is why I choose to take the road less traveled because it ... " has made all the difference."

Bye Daddy

On July 31st my Dad, Robert, passed away at the age of 88.

When someone dies, after the initial period of sorrow and pain have passed you start remembering and sharing those things that meant something to you personally. These thoughts just seem to appear, perhaps something physical like a smell or sound triggers them out of thin air, and they comfort. I want to share some of my memories of my Dad with you.

When I was 5 years old my Dad took me to New York City for the first time. We took the train from Massachusetts into the city just for the day. It was also my first train trip. It was winter and before Christmas. I'll never forget going to Rockerfeller center and watching all the people ice skating, the huge decorated Christmas tree, the giant mailbox to put your letter to Santa in and it was the first time I had seen a policeman on a horse! It was a big day and it was just me and Dad and I felt so grown up.

Dad was never really the outdoor type... he was never comfortable at the beach and he always wore socks with his sandles... on the beach! Mom took us camping herself...Dad didn't go camping. Mom said that they got poison ivy on their honeymoon because he cleared the yard for his aunt just before and didn't know it was loaded with the itchy weed.What a way to spend your honeymoon. He hated insects with a passion and I remember living in fear of hearing a mosquito because he would start fumigating the whole house. Mind you he got malaria when he was in Panama in World War II so I understood his fear. I even remember once on a Sunday afternoon going to the local park for a picnic and he tripped and sprained his foot. He grilled hotdogs over the hibachi as he lay on the blanket with his foot up.

He was always meticulous in dressing. He loved ties! He worked for the Department of Defense for 40 years and always wore a suit. I'll never forget the first pair of jeans my Mom bought for him so he could do yard work?! He had them tailored! He just didn't get it.

Though I never remember my Dad watching or being interested in sports my youngest brother has fond memories of going to Whalers hockey games with Dad in Hartford, CT when he was a kid (he's 11 years younger than me). He loved to read, he was an expert ballroom dancer and even taught for Arthur Murray studios, he loved being in the sun, he loved apple pie and donuts and he loved his grandchildren very much.

In the last year he talked alot about his Grandmother Kindred and her home on Nelson St. in Fitchburg, MA. He loved her dearly and his best childhood memories were from there...he was a known blueberry pie thief at the age of 2! Head to toe blue, licking his chops and not showing any remorse...so we are going to take Dad back to his Grandma as we think that is where he would like to be most.

Thanks for everything- the good times and the bad as it shaped me into the person I am today. Thanks for being strict...I never doubted I was loved. I'll miss you. I love you.

Until we meet again....

Your Daughter

Traveling the Medicine Wheel

Shortly after moving to the Mesa I decided that I needed to build a medicine wheel. I had never built one before and had only read about it years before in Sun Bear's books. I don't know why I "had" to build one but I just felt driven to do so. In a way I suppose I felt it would honor the ancient people of this valley who believed this Mesa to be sacred land and who had left their petroglyphs throughout the area. So I started researching and came across Sun Bear's medicine wheel that was given to him in a vision. I used it as a model in creating my own. I bought a compass and for many weeks before constructing it I collected rocks. Now I know you are saying you have lots of rocks at your fingertips but each stone symbolizes a "gift" and therefore had to be hand chosen for each position. You would have laughed to see me driving down the road and coming to an abrupt stop because I spotted just the rock for one of the positions. I swear they called to me! Anyway, eventually the day came and I carefully marked the four directions and using a piece of string tied to a branch I carved out my wheel. The first stone is the Creator stone which is placed in the center. Around the creator are 7 stones symbolizing Father Sun, Mother Earth, Grandmother Moon, Thunderbird, Turtle, Butterfly and Frog. Then the four Spirit Keeper stones were placed at the Cardinal directions of East, South, West and North.

Three more stones are laid from each Spirit Keeper to the center stone. These stones symbolize the path that each direction teaches us. The stones of the Eastern path symbolize clarity, wisdom and illumination. The Southern path growth, trust and love. The Western path experience, introspection, and strength. The Northern path cleansing, renewal, and purity.

The stones representing the moons and the totem animals of each are then placed as the outer circle connecting the cardinals directions. It took me approximately 4 hours to complete the wheel. I worked steadily and quietly loosing all track of the time. When it was completed I placed a ceramic blue planter in the center in which I change out the plants for each season. Within the plants is nestled a figure of Gaia holding the Earth in her arms. I blessed the Wheel and meditated within the space and I truly believe that the "energy" around and within the wheel has changed for the better. Now the yard is alive with a multitude of birds, chipmunks, lizards and rabbits... and yes the occasional snake.

I frequently walk the Wheel round and round. Noting where I stop, asking for guidance along the way from the stones. It helps me to ground and center myself and it has helped me to connect to this land and honor the beauty and wisdom here. One of my lessons here was to "listen" to my Self, that inner voice and I did and in doing so I have grown from the experience.

Bright Blessings

Hummingbirds

My family has always found comfort and joy in nature and we were raised to be aware of the natural world around us. We derive a lot of joy watching birds and animals daily and from our first day here on the Mesa we have especially enjoyed the hummingbirds. On that first day, moving-in day, we discovered a hummingbird nest with two tiny babies in the tree by the front walkway. The nest was attached to the very end of a branch and the wind would send it swaying violently but the two little ones hung on and grew until one day we witnessed them take their first flights.

Lone hummer resting on a Joshua Tree at Dusk

In "Animal-Speak" by Ted Andrews, a wonderful source for the symbolism of animals, birds, reptiles and insects, he states that hummingbirds will lay 2 eggs. The number two being representative of the feminine inner Self of which we must honor and express in order to find our own bliss. For me the nest held a special message.

We now have about nine regular hummingbirds that visit the three feeders we have around the yard. They are very curious and will come right up to you and look you over. When their feeders are empty they go to the kitchen window and look in at you as if to say "hello, the feeder is empty you need to refill, we are hungry." They play and have mock battles with each other, vie for position, hover and wait in line at the feeders, and sometimes they buzz right by your head when you are sitting in the back yard. They are as fun and vibrant as their colors. They remind me that no matter how fast I'm going and how much I am doing that I need to stop, step back and be joyful and thankful for this very moment. Quick...name three things that brought a smile to your lips today or made you wonder. If you can't, go outside and look around! We'd love to hear about the wonderful things you see too.

You never know...

We wanted to explain our absence over the past month. It has been a roller coaster ride.
My father had a stroke in April which led shortly thereafter to having to have a pacemaker put in. He went to a rehabilitation center for therapy and was supposed to come home about 3 weeks ago now. A day or so before he was to be released he fell and broke his hip. Once again he was flown to Reno, NV for surgery this time a partial hip replacement. He was transported back to the rehab. center. On the 6th they discovered pneumonia. This past Sunday he was taken by ambulance to the hospital again and the pneumonia had spread to both lungs and he was having difficulty breathing and he now has a kidney infection as well. He is gravely ill. He was in ICU for two days and though he now has been moved into a regular ward they just don't know if he will recover. He is a tough old Yankee so perhaps he will pull out of it but no one knows. We go and talk to him but so far he just sleeps and doesn't respond. His body is dealing with fighting the infection. He just turned 88 the beginning of June. He has never really been sick in his life...it all started about 2 years ago with his first stroke but he recovered very well from that one.
So here we are again and what the future holds we do not know but thanks to all our friends and family for your support. We are thankful for all of you.
We came home from the hospital this afternoon to Momma and Papa quail sitting on the bench
on the front walkway surrounded with brand new chicks, little puffballs running around and Life goes on.

Green Fields

It's a windblown day on the mesa with storm clouds scudding across the Buttermilk's. It's been an unusual June with more rain than usual and cooler temperatures and the grass in the fields surrounding the mesa is thick and knee high. All the cows and horses are happily grazing on the lush growth.


I think of the green fields of Massachusetts today. Our family farm in Western Mass. was a farmers dream. The soil was black and rich and everything would grow in profusion. Out here on the mesa we do our best with planters, soil and manure infused beds and lots of spirit! We've broken a few shovels on the dirt they call soil here! We celebrate rocks here on the mesa incorporating them into rock gardens and use boulders as focal points. We stack them and make walls and the lizards use them as sunning spots and do their funny push ups on them.


Back to Massachusetts and my childhood...My father had a special talent with roses. In fact my maiden name was Rosell which had to do with roses. We had old roses growing on the picket fence in the yard and roses in beds. We also had old lilac bushes against the barn- white and purple and a stand a good 20' in diameter elsewhere on the property. The scent was heavenly. Just picture our back yard with apple and pear trees lining it, a raspberry patch, an asparagus patch and a crop of potatoes for our own home use, a prolific garden everywhere else. Every 4Th of July would find me and my friends shelling bushels of peas for canning and freezing. We are Swedish, so we'd always make saft- a thick fruit juice that we'd bottle for drinks (non-alcoholic) and syrups. We did it all. Waste not want not was our motto.
We'd have sauerkraut-making parties with our neighbors and put it up in large crocks. We'd do some pickling the same way, make a party out of it. We'd have lots of desserts to nibble on too.
There is something to be said for sharing and conversation and the successful outcome of such a homely project. It wasn't work to us...it was fun!
We have eleven tomato plants, more than half are heirloom varieties, in containers. We have tomatillo's and a variety of peppers in beds; lettuce, beans, a lone eggplant, and zucchini squash all in planters and a small herb garden with essentials near the back door for easy clipping. Its been years since we've had a decent garden. Hopefully we'll have a good yield and then maybe we'll have a party to make salsa, tomato sauce or pickles with our family and friends and
start a new harvest tradition all over again and even if we don't... we'll still have a party and celebrate being together.

Adaptability...making the most of where you are!

If ten years ago you would have told us we would be living in the Eastern Sierra Nevada mountains we would have thought you were crazy! Sometimes Life picks you up and carries you to a new place and you have to do your best to adapt to your new home.

Our first nine years found us living at an elevation of +8,000' next to a creek, deep in the woods with bears and an assortment of wildlife. Life in the mountains is a circle of springtime wildflowers, summers by the lake, colorful Aspens in the fall and wild and windy winters with deep snow. Living in the mountains is work; wooding 4-6 cords a winter for the wood stove, keeping a pantry, and in the winter shoveling and more shoveling. You know it's deep when the snow you throw by the shovelful comes right back down on top of you because the bank is too high for you to throw it over. Coyotes used to stand on the snowbanks and look down into the house at the cats. Unnerving for the cats! The rewards though are many; the satisfaction of learning and knowing how to take of yourself; walking in the woods under a hush of freshly fallen snow; going to sleep with the sound of water rushing down the mountain in the creek; seeing two big black paws and a big nose of a bear peeking at you from over the deck railing; sitting in front of a wood fire while the winter winds howl outside. It was quite the experience.

Now, once again we find ourselves in a new place, not far from the first but so completely different it's like night and day. We moved down the mountain to an elevation of approximately 4500' to the high desert. We live on top of a mesa, Mustang Mesa. To the East the White Mountains, to the West Mt.Tom and the Buttermilk's. The landscape is sagebrush and rabbit bush and rocks, lots of rocks. I'm not going to lie but we found this new place a bit bleak and scary in the beginning. Old gnarled, overgrown sagebrush, dead trees, dirt and arid landscape made for a depressing view when one was used to towering pine trees, wildflowers, and rushing water. It didn't help that no one had done anything to the yard in a very long time. I wouldn't step off the patio before looking carefully for anything slithering! Scorpions on the walkway and walking across the bathroom vanity, black widows weaving webs everywhere, lizards doing their strange push-ups...I'm telling you I was downright jumpy!

Of course you have to get yourself settled first. Day to day schedules and life take precedence. You have to start exploring your new place, meet people, learn about the history in your area and it all takes time. Then one day you start to see things differently. You notice a different plant, a new bird, a piece of volcanic rock with a perfect vent hole through it. The wind picks up every afternoon at a certain time and all of a sudden the jack rabbits are back and the quail have tiny little chicks that they carefully watch over as they make their way through the yard. You watch the sun rise over the mountains to the East and the beautiful sunsets over the mountains to the West. We are surrounded on all sides by mountains within a round valley.

We were discussing all the varied places we have lived in our lives and how very different each was from all the others. From Southern California coastal desert to New England dairy country,to Texas Hill country. We've been blessed to experience and more so to be able to appreciate all the wonderful , varied places we've been. We feel it is important to experience a place fully. To learn as much as you can about its history, its people and their culture as well as its wildlife and environment is enriching and inspiring for yourself. The beauty around you becomes a part of you. You learn to bloom wherever you are planted.