Rebecca and I went on what may well be my last hike the Thursday before last. (I have since thrown out my left knee and trying to prevent a fall, messed up my right shoulder.) It was from the parking lot to Point No Point on Washington's Kitsap Peninsula. The trail led through part of town, past a freshwater marsh, to the lighthouse and down a trail parallel to the Salish Sea surrounded with Nootka roses just starting to bloom. The marsh was full of red-winged blackbirds and in all we saw 29 species of birds, including Western Tanager, Brown-headed Cowbird. Rufous and Anna's Hummingbirds, Bald Eagle, Red-tailed Hawk, Osprey. Mourning Dove, Common Yellowthroat, and Pigeon Guillemot. But perhaps the best of the day was seeing a pair of Marbled Murrelets fishing together in the surf. All and all a great day!
Dave, Your hike sounds truly grand, and I do love the Kitsap Peninsula. And what a wonderful gift that you saw a pair of Marbeled Murrelets! I am sorry to hear that your knee went out, and that you injured your shoulder in trying to catch yourself. May both knee and shoulder heal, and may you have many more hikes to come.
Thanks, Carol! Life is grand, even with this terrible drought we're in. I am amazed every morning to hear the Say's phoebes calling, and the hummingbirds zinging by, even though it is now so dry that the bunchgrasses have all crisped and gone dormant, and the few wildflowers that were blooming are now desiccated. Still, somehow, life continues....
Thanks, Phyllis! That's the thing about life lessons: if we don't practice them, we forget. And there's nothing like a road trip (for me) to let my mind empty of fretting and busyness and open to remembering what matters most. :)
So true--and thank you for reminding us! We are also fortunate to live where we do, to be able to open the door, to walk outside and be in nature. After 21 years of living in Manhattan (wonderful in its own right), and traveling down flights of stairs in an elevator just to walk outside, and then to be in concrete, I am grateful every day for my life New Mexico.
We are fortunate, and as a near lifelong westerner, I can say wholeheartedly that I would not survive in Manhattan! I have to have wild nearby, and 26 million people within a few miles would make me crazier than I already am. But I'm gad you had that time and can see it as wonderful looking back.
Cheryl, Thanks for reading and appreciating my crazy life. I am so thrilled for you and loving re-reading Leaning On Air. What a beautifully real and redemptive story. I feel l like I've always known Celia and Burnaby, and the Palouse comes to life with your words.
Loved the story of your travels and speaking, interactions and insights. My take away, which I practice since I am a natural Connector at core: Find time to stay connected with people you care about. Those relationships enrich our lives. One thing I am witnessing is that many people as they age are not connected and distance themselves. It's interesting to see but sad in many ways. Thanks dear Susan for writing words of earth empowerment and linking your connections from plants to flowers to people.
Helene, Thank you. That is exactly the lesson I take. Unlike you, I am not a natural connector (at least not with humans). In fact, I am naturally solitary. So as a widow who really prefers her own company and is getting older, I've had to remind myself to make time to stay connected to the humans I am fond of. I am very connected to the earth and to plants, who I think of as my people. :)
I get it. The flowers I cultivate are my best girlfriends. And the old ponderosas are my grandparents who I spend time with each day. And the grasses are cousins.
I'm sorry! It wasn't a public appearance though--I was only there to teach at the Wyoming Writers annual conference, so you would have had to be registered for the conference to take my workshop.
It was great to hear all about your road trip! And your stop in at least one of my former haunts. Sorry to hear things are so crispy at home. The green and flowers of Cody must have been soothing balm on many levels.
It was a good trip, if perhaps too many miles for that many days. But you know how it is in the West--long distances, and lots of country to see. It was heart-soothing to be in NW Wyoming in a green spring. Hard to come home to ridiculous heat and bleached grasslands, but that's life with climate change. And I do love my home here.
A beautiful beginning to my day to see your photos and read your words. Sagebrush is my spirit plant, so I loved reading of the significance of her in your life. There is nothing else like her. The lessons are life-affirming reminders to stay connected to those things important and crucial to our lives.
I've studied big sagebrush my whole life, and the more I learn, the more I find to learn. Artemisia tridentata is one amazing plant! And yes to connection, especially with this whole living earth--we need to belong to the animate planet that gives us life, and the planet needs our love and care.
I loved traveling with you and hearing all your stories of connections, great and small.
My wanderings are shorter and closer to home now. But I try to live YES as much as possible with an open heart and open arms. And it's lovely to see how the response, both great and small, is given back enthusiastically.
What a beautiful way to put it, Kathleen: "living YES" with open heart and open arms. I believe that what humans do best is what comes from our heart: love. And this living Earth needs our love and returns it in kind. If we only give our time and attention, that is enough to nurture the community of the land around us. I am enjoying the gift of rain at last, after months of parching wind and drought. I wish you gifts of joy in your day too!
Such a beautiful record of your trek. You inspire in me love of our gorgeous, intricate natural world with your photos and descriptions. Thank you, Susan.
As the poet Mary Oliver wrote (I am paraphrasing), the world offers itself up to our imagination. Every day. It is our task or delight to witness and honor the gift of life on this planet, and if my words and photos help you do that, Nancy, I am happy. Blessings!
Thank you, Emily! I find "windshield time" in the unpeopled spaces of the arid West to be a kind of driving meditation. With my eyes on the road and also the landscapes out my windows, my mind can wander to places and realizations I wouldn't have gotten to otherwise. About that cabin, I may not have been clear: it's actually on Torrey Creek in the Wind River Range, above the upper Wind River Valley. And all of those places come by the name "wind" honestly!
Yes, that's my favorite kind of driving, long drives through big landscapes. Thanks for the clarification - I'd take a cabin in the Wind River Range as well:)
Lovely photos.
Rebecca and I went on what may well be my last hike the Thursday before last. (I have since thrown out my left knee and trying to prevent a fall, messed up my right shoulder.) It was from the parking lot to Point No Point on Washington's Kitsap Peninsula. The trail led through part of town, past a freshwater marsh, to the lighthouse and down a trail parallel to the Salish Sea surrounded with Nootka roses just starting to bloom. The marsh was full of red-winged blackbirds and in all we saw 29 species of birds, including Western Tanager, Brown-headed Cowbird. Rufous and Anna's Hummingbirds, Bald Eagle, Red-tailed Hawk, Osprey. Mourning Dove, Common Yellowthroat, and Pigeon Guillemot. But perhaps the best of the day was seeing a pair of Marbled Murrelets fishing together in the surf. All and all a great day!
Dave, Your hike sounds truly grand, and I do love the Kitsap Peninsula. And what a wonderful gift that you saw a pair of Marbeled Murrelets! I am sorry to hear that your knee went out, and that you injured your shoulder in trying to catch yourself. May both knee and shoulder heal, and may you have many more hikes to come.
Love all of this. Isn’t life sometimes grand?
Thanks, Carol! Life is grand, even with this terrible drought we're in. I am amazed every morning to hear the Say's phoebes calling, and the hummingbirds zinging by, even though it is now so dry that the bunchgrasses have all crisped and gone dormant, and the few wildflowers that were blooming are now desiccated. Still, somehow, life continues....
Lovely and nourishing, as always. 🌸
Thank you, Barbara! What a lovely compliment that word "nourishing" is. :)
Easy life lessons--and so easy to ignore and/or forget!
Thanks, Phyllis! That's the thing about life lessons: if we don't practice them, we forget. And there's nothing like a road trip (for me) to let my mind empty of fretting and busyness and open to remembering what matters most. :)
So true--and thank you for reminding us! We are also fortunate to live where we do, to be able to open the door, to walk outside and be in nature. After 21 years of living in Manhattan (wonderful in its own right), and traveling down flights of stairs in an elevator just to walk outside, and then to be in concrete, I am grateful every day for my life New Mexico.
We are fortunate, and as a near lifelong westerner, I can say wholeheartedly that I would not survive in Manhattan! I have to have wild nearby, and 26 million people within a few miles would make me crazier than I already am. But I'm gad you had that time and can see it as wonderful looking back.
Your rich, beautiful life! Thanks for sharing it with us!
Cheryl, Thanks for reading and appreciating my crazy life. I am so thrilled for you and loving re-reading Leaning On Air. What a beautifully real and redemptive story. I feel l like I've always known Celia and Burnaby, and the Palouse comes to life with your words.
Susan, everything about this is beautiful. So much wisdom! And plants!
Thank you, Karen! I am a plant-focused person, so they are the "people" I am tuned to in this life. :)
I love that so much! I hadn't thought of it that way. I think I have to start saying "birds are my people".
Absolutely! And you honor your bird-kin so beautifully in your photography and writing.
Loved the story of your travels and speaking, interactions and insights. My take away, which I practice since I am a natural Connector at core: Find time to stay connected with people you care about. Those relationships enrich our lives. One thing I am witnessing is that many people as they age are not connected and distance themselves. It's interesting to see but sad in many ways. Thanks dear Susan for writing words of earth empowerment and linking your connections from plants to flowers to people.
Helene, Thank you. That is exactly the lesson I take. Unlike you, I am not a natural connector (at least not with humans). In fact, I am naturally solitary. So as a widow who really prefers her own company and is getting older, I've had to remind myself to make time to stay connected to the humans I am fond of. I am very connected to the earth and to plants, who I think of as my people. :)
I get it. The flowers I cultivate are my best girlfriends. And the old ponderosas are my grandparents who I spend time with each day. And the grasses are cousins.
How did I miss that you were in Casper?
I don't know. I've mentioned that I was on the faculty of the Wyoming Writers Conference in Casper, but maybe I didn't mention it often enough!
I may have missed that post. I am sorry to have missed seeing you
I'm sorry! It wasn't a public appearance though--I was only there to teach at the Wyoming Writers annual conference, so you would have had to be registered for the conference to take my workshop.
It was great to hear all about your road trip! And your stop in at least one of my former haunts. Sorry to hear things are so crispy at home. The green and flowers of Cody must have been soothing balm on many levels.
It was a good trip, if perhaps too many miles for that many days. But you know how it is in the West--long distances, and lots of country to see. It was heart-soothing to be in NW Wyoming in a green spring. Hard to come home to ridiculous heat and bleached grasslands, but that's life with climate change. And I do love my home here.
Excellent lessons, beautifully told, and with pictures for the icing on the cake.
Thank you, Mary! It was a long trip, but all that windshield time gave me space for reflection.
A beautiful beginning to my day to see your photos and read your words. Sagebrush is my spirit plant, so I loved reading of the significance of her in your life. There is nothing else like her. The lessons are life-affirming reminders to stay connected to those things important and crucial to our lives.
I've studied big sagebrush my whole life, and the more I learn, the more I find to learn. Artemisia tridentata is one amazing plant! And yes to connection, especially with this whole living earth--we need to belong to the animate planet that gives us life, and the planet needs our love and care.
I loved traveling with you and hearing all your stories of connections, great and small.
My wanderings are shorter and closer to home now. But I try to live YES as much as possible with an open heart and open arms. And it's lovely to see how the response, both great and small, is given back enthusiastically.
Enjoy this beautiful day, Susan.
Kathleen
What a beautiful way to put it, Kathleen: "living YES" with open heart and open arms. I believe that what humans do best is what comes from our heart: love. And this living Earth needs our love and returns it in kind. If we only give our time and attention, that is enough to nurture the community of the land around us. I am enjoying the gift of rain at last, after months of parching wind and drought. I wish you gifts of joy in your day too!
Such a beautiful record of your trek. You inspire in me love of our gorgeous, intricate natural world with your photos and descriptions. Thank you, Susan.
As the poet Mary Oliver wrote (I am paraphrasing), the world offers itself up to our imagination. Every day. It is our task or delight to witness and honor the gift of life on this planet, and if my words and photos help you do that, Nancy, I am happy. Blessings!
This is really a feast, Susan. All of Wyoming (a cabin in Wind River Canyon!), the beautiful wildflowers, and the lessons learned. Thank you so much.
Thank you, Emily! I find "windshield time" in the unpeopled spaces of the arid West to be a kind of driving meditation. With my eyes on the road and also the landscapes out my windows, my mind can wander to places and realizations I wouldn't have gotten to otherwise. About that cabin, I may not have been clear: it's actually on Torrey Creek in the Wind River Range, above the upper Wind River Valley. And all of those places come by the name "wind" honestly!
Yes, that's my favorite kind of driving, long drives through big landscapes. Thanks for the clarification - I'd take a cabin in the Wind River Range as well:)
Another wonderful piece. And brava to you, dear Susan, for changing your mind about that hitchhiker! It was clearly his lucky day. XOXOXO
Mine too, because he was as delightful as I sensed he might be. And very glad to get a ride.... :)