Caterpillar Curl

 

If not for the bright orange band, I never would have noticed it. This plump Wooly Bear caterpillar stood motionless on the rim of a round planter in our yard.

I have noticed a substantial number of them this fall. Popular myths say their appearance can predict what kind of a winter we will have, although there is no scientific evidence to support that. They are incredible little creatures, nonetheless. They hatch out in the Spring, feed on a vast assortment of vegetation, and molt their skin multiple times as they grow larger. When they have reached the proper stage of this development, they form a cocoon around themselves using the spikey “hairs” from their skin. Inside the cocoon, their bodies transition into a lovely Isabella tiger moth, which hatches in the Spring and begins the cycle again. The remarkable thing is, if the caterpillar does not eat enough to reach the size needed for transition, it simply finds a place to hide over the winter and waits until Spring to resume eating. Its small body can withstand total freezing thanks to type of “antifreeze” it produces to enable it to live. It is indeed a sturdy little thing with amazing power to survive.

Not so amazing, however, is its tactic to avoid harm. Curious as to how it moved, I sprayed it gently with a bit of water from the hose I was using. Surprisingly, it immediately curled itself up into a ball and allowed the water to wash it off the container rim and onto the soil. There it lay, inert as a  rock while the water puddled up around it. Regretful of my action  and feeling sorry for it, I gently picked it up and placed it on a rock near the outside bottom of the container. The top of the rock was jagged and uneven, and it simply rolled off and into a narrow space between the rock and the container. The space proved too small for me to retrieve it, so I had to leave well enough alone and give up seeing it move…

Although its defensive action likely served to ward off predators with its armor of bristly hairs protecting its soft underside, I found it questionable and couldn’t help comparing it to the way we humans sometimes behave in similar fashion…

I have a 91-year-old friend who lives alone with no family nearby. She has some back problems and suffers from bouts of depression. We have called each other for years and sometimes meet for lunch. One day it occurred to me we hadn’t talked in some time, so I promptly called her to see how she was. Turns out, she’d wanted to talk to me, but felt she was grouchy and had nothing positive to say, so didn’t want to “burden” me with her complaints. I reassured her we needed to stay in touch no matter our individual moods or problems and she readily agreed. By the end of that call, her mood had noticeably improved.

I once met a woman who was fighting a virulent form of cancer and attended our church a few times. When we noticed she no longer came, a talk with a mutual friend revealed the woman had quit coming because she could not bear the compassionate concerns members expressed to her. To her, the attention was simply unbearable.

Difficult though it may be, we need to be able to share our woes with others. NO ONE in this life escapes unscathed, and rolling ourselves into a ball and hiding away from that fact does none of us any good…

One who has isolated himself seeks his own desires; 
he rejects all sound judgment.
 ~ Proverbs 18:1

Two people are better off than one, for they can help each other succeed. 
If one person falls, the other can reach out and help. 
But someone who falls alone is in real trouble.
~ Ecclesiastes 4:9-10

Seasonal Surprises

I heard them through the open window the other night. As they were high above on that quiet, damp night, I could not see which way they were heading, but I knew by their soft, syncopated honking that they were geese and must be going to some place with ample food and comfort for the coming colder months. Indeed, in this time of transition, it is a time of change for most living things, ourselves included.

While I feel myself folding inward during these short, dark, rainy days, I’ve experienced enough seasonal changes in my life to know that this is a change beyond my control; one that is necessary and important, even if we may not like or enjoy it. Change is seldom easy, after all. But during the intense, difficult work of growing, reproducing, and simply surviving, time is needed to rest and rejuvenate. We may find it odd and uncomfortable the way this happens. Where there were gorgeous blue skies, there now are moody clouds of roiling greys and intense, bruised, purplish blacks. Where there was pure, sparkling sunlight, there now is misty drizzle and chilling rain. The cheerful chirping of the tree frogs gives way to the mournful cries of those night-flying geese…

There also are moments of beauty and joy in this process. I find myself awestruck by the colors of this season: the ripe, round, red and purple berries that are abundant here, the white, orange, and brown fungi that erupt in the woods and meadows, the brilliant orange, yellow, red, and copper leaves on the trees. Whether pre-programmed or anomalies, there are some plants that manage to bloom at this time of year. Colorful Autumn crocus, chrysanthemums, sunflowers, and sedums punctuate otherwise drab gardens, while vine and big-leaf maples, red-osier dogwoods, and shiny-leaved salal and evergreen huckleberries strut their stuff in the local woods. No matter the weather, it’s always good to don your rain gear and take a walk—amazing what it can do for one’s spirit.

We have one hardy plant that surprises me every year. It is an old rose bush – likely a heritage variety because it smells wonderful—that was here when we moved in 40 years go. We’ve dug it up and moved it several times and, sadly, I never really cared if it survived as it is rather leggy, with a puny lavender color. Not my favorite, for sure. The last place we put it was in a corner garden, just below our kitchen window. With very little care, it has thrived there, growing taller each year and producing continuous blooms all summer long and well into the Fall. Even now, with many fully formed rose hips(fruit) which I’ve neglected to prune off, it is continuing to bloom, refusing to give in to this season of darkness. I know that eventually it will stop, finally resting up for next summer. In the meantime, I cherish its fortitude, for it is a good reminder that a new season is always on the horizon.

 As I remember that my dad said: “Life is a series of adjustments,” I now know how true that really is. We DO need to “Grow where we are planted “and carry on as best as we can. It helps if we hang together on the journey!

"As long as the earth endures, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night will never cease.'"                  Genesis 8:22

Acorns in Parking Lots

“I’ll be right back…” I called out as I began crossing the large parking lot to the motel office where they kept hot coffee all day long. In the early twilight, I could see splotches of some tannish-gray material spattered across the dark pavement. My first thought was that someone’s tires had collected and dropped globs of mud, but they seemed to be the wrong color. Then I noticed odd little chunks and on closer inspection could see what they really were – acorns. The oak trees that had been planted in the median strips had produced dozens, which now were ripe and dropping to the pavement. Many had been smashed by tires, but some were still whole, scattered about with their broken-off caps. Quickly grabbing that hot cup of coffee, I set it down on a curb and began gathering up the acorns and caps into the front of my shirt. Gingerly balancing the hot cup in one hand and my newly-acquired treasure in the other, I returned to our room, joyful. “Look what I found – free decorations!”

I have always loved to gather nature’s bounty, which is everywhere you look and often free for the taking. Brightly-colored autumn leaves of different shapes and sizes, various seed pods and grasses, lichen-covered twigs, evergreen cones, berries, and nuts are abundant this time of year.  As the weather cools and dampens, I bring them indoors to add some color and cheer to the darkening days. Once collected, however, we need to see how they fit together and how best to use or display them.

And, if we pay attention, those are not the only free treasures to be found, combined, and valued. I remember the year, shortly after both my parents passed away, that I had the opportunity to attend art school (at the age of 50, no less…) and use my part of a small inheritance to complete the studies debt-free. Another time, while attending a community class and subsequently volunteering to use that knowledge, I met some women who ultimately became some of my closest friends. Asking for help on a local internet community page has resulted in meeting some incredible people, whom I would now not hesitate to contact for access to their unique skills. Serving on a local community committee has helped me become acquainted with members of different service organizations, educational institutions, and a local juvenile justice department. The exchange of information and knowledge with each of these people has enriched my life immensely and helped me connect them with others who have needed their expertise.

Those acorns – and their matching caps – returned home with me. The caps have been glued on and they are prominently displayed, along with other nuts and seedpods, as a reminder of the yearly harvest.  I’d much rather enjoy these real things than plastic imported replicas. Some years, I gather a small amount of evergreen huckleberries from our yard. They are small and there is never enough to do much with, but when combined with apples from my neighbor’s yard, they make a wonderfully tasty pie.

Many of us are not as close to the land and its abundant resources as our ancestors were, but it’s good to remember that all these things are timeless gifts from God. The harvest is ready – reap what you can, share the bounty, and be forever grateful.

 

Even now the one who reaps draws a wage and harvests a crop for eternal life, so that the sower and the reaper may be glad together. ~ John 4:36
 

 

Struggling Upstream

Photo by John Williams

Surrounded by the hush of the forest - firs, cedars, and maples closing in with all their muted glory - I was once again struck by the fragility, yet the stubbornness, of life. Below us in the stream the salmon struggled, their once-glorious bodies battered, tattered, and covered with white splotches of fungus. Theirs was a trip of a lifetime, a one-time journey upstream to preserve their species; a trek marked by danger and tragedy as they wended their way past fishermen, boulders, logs, predators, through culverts, over or around dams and fish ladders.

Many would not survive the ordeal. Those who did would, if successful, produce progeny that might face even greater challenges on their return journey to the sea. It was a risk they all had to take – to choose otherwise would mark the end of their kind.

Salmon are driven by instinct, a highly-sensitive sense of smell, and an uncanny ability to detect the pattern of the Earth's magnetic field at the mouth of their native river. They are one of the few fish that can adjust to differences in salinity, spending part of their lives in both salt and fresh water. Adults live in the ocean where they feed and grow for six months to seven years, depending on the species. At maturity, they return to the stream where they were hatched and literally fight their way upstream to the ideal gravel beds for laying their eggs.

During this time, the adults stop eating and their bodies undergo many changes to help them attract a mate and ward off competitors. After the precious eggs have been laid, fertilized, and gently covered, the adults finally give in to the starvation and damage of their bodies and die. But that is not the end of their story – far from it. Some of the dying or dead fish provide food for other animals; their decomposed bodies return valuable nutrients to the water and soil of the surrounding forest.

Photo by Laura Finch

The newly-hatched fish continue to feed on the yolk sac attached to their bellies. Some kinds stay in the gravel for several weeks before swimming up into the open water of the stream, where they feed on plankton and other tiny aquatic organisms. Some spend one to two years in fresh water before beginning the long journey downstream and heading out to sea. As the current carries the young salmon tail-first to the ocean, their bodies undergo physical and chemical changes to enable them to survive in salt water. It truly is an incredible, never-ending circle of life.

Photo by Laura Finch

God provides us with many teachers and there is much we can learn from the salmon. We need to become keenly aware of our instincts and learn to trust in them; as we develop our finely-tuned sense of self and a sense of place, know that those are inexorably linked. We should set our goals and persevere until they are reached, no matter how tough the going may be. If we value the wisdom and knowledge of older people who have amassed a wealth of information, experience, and acumen, we will find it is worth making the time to listen to and learn from them. To live sustainably, so that there is enough for everyone, we need to become fully conscious of our use of the many natural resources this planet provides – carefully buying, using, and recycling; there should be little that we waste or throw away. We must trust that others will carry on after us.

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens:ferences for Ecclesiastes 3:1

·Cross References

a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot,

a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build,

a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance,

a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,

a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing…   

~ Ecclesiastes 3:1-5

It is the season of renewal, joy, and hope -

CELEBRATE!

In the Blink of an Eye

It was odd that it caught my attention at all, but at the same time how could it not? It was so completely unexpected and foreign to my eyes that, even though it was nestled unobtrusively among the still-green leaves, it literally took my breath away.

About five inches long, it hung as a tightly-packed group of dark-colored, woody pods, each one containing a brilliant, shiny red, plump, bean-shaped seed suspended from the pod by a single, white strand. I'm not kidding about the color - identical to the red of M & Ms, I'd say! If this plant had produced this dramatic show of fall seeds before, I somehow had missed it.

The plant is a saucer magnolia tree, which we planted back in 1988 as a memorial to my mom whom we lost that year.

It is slow-growing - only about eight feet tall after twenty-seven years of growth - but faithfully produces huge pink blooms each spring.

Whether it was the unusually warm, dry summer, the tree reached some certain level of maturity, or other unknown factors, it lavishly produced five or six of these hanging seed clumps this year. Maybe I just happened to be working in its part of the yard at the right time. Whatever it was, because I think of it as "Mom's tree", it stirred up all kinds of memories of her.

It is often so easy to take those closest to us for granted. Precisely because they are so near and dear to us, they become a part of the fabric of our everyday lives, woven in so tightly and secure that we forget how precious they really are.

If we are fortunate, and fully aware, age and experience teaches us that life can change in the blink of an eye and we should NOT take anything for granted - least of all those we treasure. I have been reminded of this time after time, but more so recently...

·         My loving husband - best friend ever, stalwart partner, robust worker, now facing physical challenges.

·         My sister - living close by for the first time since I was two years old, facing failing eyesight, hearing, and the fragility of aging.

·         Our adult son - struggling with mental illness, substance abuse, and unemployment.

·         My youngest niece - dealing with health issues, unemployment, her Alzheimer's-affected dad, and a sister with mental illness.

·         Our dear friend - solid presence and confidante, widower with young-adult children, who recently escaped serious injury from a falling tree.

·         My "Coffee Klatch" ladies - each facing their own unique challenges with family members, health, disability, and aging.

·         My community volunteer friends - dealing with family issues of dementia, addiction, failed relationships, worries for grandchildren, spouses, and their own declining abilities.

·         All of YOU - whom I know, love, appreciate, and consider part of the greater family.

I am not alone in this; I only listed those above as a reminder that all of us carry burdens of concern for those we care for and love. Let us remember to be thankful now for those we hold dear - circumstances can change in an instant and tomorrow may never come.

I view the magnolia's brilliant red seeds and remember my mom's bright red lipstick, geraniums, and apple pie. I'm ever so thankful to have had her in my life...

I always thank my God

as I remember you in my prayers..

Philemon 1:4

Giving Thanks

"God gave you a gift of 86,400 seconds today.

Have you used one to say 'thank you?'"

William A. Ward

 

 

I woke up today with a clear mind, still physically able to do many things. Because I had an education, I am able to read, write, and work with numbers. I've had fulfilling, meaningful jobs, which have extended into volunteerism. I have been able to envision and create with my hands many items of function and beauty. I have been able help others with time, talents, and money.

 

 

 

I am privileged

 

My husband and I found each other and remain in a loving relationship after all these years. We have worked long and hard to build a life together. We have a roof over our heads with heat in the winter and cooling breezes in the summer; we have enough to eat and ample fresh water every single day. We have been able to expand our horizons through travel.

 

"If the only prayer you said in your whole life was,

'thank you,'

that would suffice."

Meister Eckhart

I have enough

 

I am surrounded by family and friends who care - people I can depend on, if needed. I was fortunate to grow up in an honest, stable, hard-working family. I share the joy of birthdays, weddings, anniversaries, and feasts and also the sorrow of illnesses, accidents, tragedies and deaths. I have said a final goodbye to one sister and both parents; I have held a new-born grandchild.

 

 

I am content

 

I spend time outdoors where I am able to see the mountains, hear the ocean, smell the flowers, and feel the wind. I have discovered, observed, studied - and shared my life with - a great many other creatures. I have experienced sunrises, crystal-clear days, sunsets, star-studded nights, lunar and solar eclipses, thunderstorms, blizzards, gently rains, searing heat, and countless other phenomena that I regularly take for granted. I live in a world too beautiful, awesome, and powerful to fully understand and I cherish each and every day that I am allowed to remain here.

I am appreciative

I have faith in an all-knowing, omnipotent God who is always with me no matter the time, place, or circumstance. I am loved and forgiven.

 

I am richly blessed

For all of these things, I am exceedingly THANKFUL

 

...give thanks in all circumstances.

for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.

 1 Thessalonians 5:18

 

SEE ALSO:

Blessings, Wherever You Find Them

Sorting Out the "Needs"

Recipe for Thanks-Giving

Traditional ? Feasting

November Musing - Part 3

There comes a time when autumn asks,

"What have you been doing all summer?"

Going out on a limb, and then meeting ourselves coming and going...

 

In August, my dear husband once again called my attention to something he knew I'd want to see. I quickly spied it clinging tightly to the rough wood of a standing planter box. Hidden among the clutter of old pieces of wood and blue tarp, it might easily have been overlooked if not for its brilliant green color.  Carefully observing, studying, and photographing it, I then made an attempt to grab it for a closer look. This little green tree frog depended on heightened awareness for its very survival, so when its supposed camouflage failed, it quickly switched to Plan B: speed and cover. It took me a few minutes of searching and grabbing, but finally I held it in my hand.

We were trying to settle in to what passes as a normal summer for us -maintaining our sizable yard and enjoying a number of local camping trips. But the reality is that this was not a normal summer for us. May had seen us offering some measure of long distance support for the move and settling-in of our brother-in-law near to his youngest daughter. June saw us helping to pack and move my older sister to our area from out-of-state. 

 

 And in between, we'd lived with many weeks of a major overhauling of a large slab of concrete near the back of our house. This served as a floor for both a double carport and a patio area, but it was very old, cracked, chipped, and beyond repair. After seeking expert advice, there was nothing to do but have that whole, huge slab removed and replaced with something better.

 

This brought major disruption, noise, and mess. So much for our normally quiet home...

 

 

Was it worth it? Absolutely!

To better photograph it, I set the little tree frog on a small plant near the ground, thinking I could sit down and focus right in on it.

 

Apparently, the frog had other ideas as it made a flying leap to a nearby red huckleberry bush and began climbing.

 

Several times I caught it and again placed it back on the short plant, but each time it leaped to the bush and continued its upward trek.

Finally, I just tried to photograph it wherever it was perched.

 

"Real action is in silent moments."

Ralph Waldo Emerson

I had my usual volunteer activities, some of which require more time and energy in the summer.  

 

As a volunteer beach naturalist, many hours are spent on our local beaches interacting with both children and adults who visit and would like to learn more about sea life.

 

 

As a member of the steering committee for a local nature park being developed in our area, I help with some stewardship work as well as many of the educational events we have there. The hours do add up...

 

 

"A bee is never as busy as it seems;

it's just that it can't buzz any slower."

Kin Hubbard

One thing we did not fully expect was the time involved with our church's new building project. My husband became the self-appointed "official" photographer and made at least one trip a day to the site to capture every stage of the building process.

This took nearly a year and was full of all sorts of ups and downs.

When the building was complete, we had a huge amount of landscaping to do and guess who was on that committee?

Most of what we did was required by the county, so it was not just for looks or our own satisfaction, although the results turned out well.

 

 

 

 

 

We're glad it's all done!

 

 

We did manage to go camping, as planned. Although we live in a rural area, we are not far from two major cities and the surrounding areas teem with population. Because of this and (we surmise)  the current economic conditions, to get a desired camp site with the needed or wanted hookups one really needs to make a reservation months in advance. We had reserved all of our camping sites back in January and, fortunately, we did not need to cancel any.

 

For us - even with planning and packing - getting away to the relative peace and quiet of a campground is well worth the effort. It really is getting back to the basics of simple living - relaxing, enjoying the great outdoors, cooking, eating, and sleeping.

 

 We spend little time inside, choosing to sit outside in camp chairs or taking a drive or hike to see the surrounding countryside.

 

 

We revel in the variety of life on this planet and never cease to be amazed at how well each is adapted to its particular niche.

 

 We breath it all in and find ourselves refreshed and revitalized again and again.

 

"The point is that when I see a sunset or a waterfall or something, for a split second it's so great, because for a little bit I'm out of my brain, and it's got nothing to do with me. I'm not trying to figure it out, you know what I mean? And I wonder if I can somehow find a way to maintain that mind stillness." - Chris Evans.

 The tree frog continued to climb and leap - from one slender branch to the next. It seemed very odd to me that it would choose this spindly bush over the sturdy plant below until it dawned on me - this was a TREE frog. It simply chose the path it was best equipped to deal with.

 

When I find myself overwhelmed with the myriad facets of life - the worries, frustrations, burdens, pain, grief, busyness, and constant changes, I always seek some measure of solitude.

 

 

While digging weeds, I can work out the solution to a problem.

 

 

While walking the beach, I can contemplate ultimate change.

 

 

While standing among trees, I can recognize my true size and importance.

 

 

When my mind is a-swirl and my body racing, instinctively I know what I need - solitude and silence.

 

 

Through these, the ultimate power of life and love and all that is speaks volumes and brings me back to who I am.

 

"When you lose touch with inner stillness,

you lose touch with yourself.

When you lose touch with yourself,

you lose yourself in the world.

Your innermost sense of self, of who you are,

is inseparable from stillness.

This is the I Am that is deeper than name and form."

~Eckhart Tolle

 

 

“Be still, and know that I am God."

Psalm 46:10