The view through Mesa Arch shows off a rich, red-rock background. — Photo by Pat Bean

Weekly Photo Challenge: In the Background

I always find Canyonlands National Park, located in Southern Utah where four other awesome national parks vie for attention, surprising. One visit it is the deep blue, cloud-dotted sky above a red-rock landscape that captures my awe. On another visit, it is the emerald green of the Colorado or Green rivers off in the distance as seen from a high viewpoint. The confluence of the two rivers takes place within the park.

A more distant view of the arch shows off the La Salle Mountains in the Background. — Photo by Pat Bean

I’ve visited Canyonlands’ Island in the Sky section many times, as it is located on the shortest route from Utah to Texas, the one I took many times when I worked and lived in Utah and visited family members in Texas.

This week’s photo challenge gave me an opportunity to show off its Mesa Arch, perhaps one of the most photographed scenic sites in North America. Reached by an easy half-mile round-trip hike  just off the park’s main road, I never visited the park without walking out to see it.

And then there is always the emerald green of the river in the background as seen from one of the park’s many viewpoints. — Photo by Pat Bean

The season, time of day and weather made each viewing a one-of-a-kind experience, not to mention the varying wildflowers and dry or wet potholes scattered along the hike that gave a different mood to the trail.

Bean’s Pat: The Road Ahead http://tinyurl.com/p6jzvvu This blog describes perfectly how I feel the first day of a road trip. I see more, write more in my journal and am awed more by the landscape than any other day on a trip. But of course that’s not to say I don’t also enjoy all my traveling days.

Reclaiming Art on Loan 

Bibba Bear, the survivor.

One of the things I told myself when I got rid of all my furnishings was that when I got off the road and grew roots again was that I would be able to decorate from scratch.

What fun that would be, I thought.

While I’ve been pleased with the few pieces of furniture I bought in January, including a bright red couch that I thought fit my sassy old broad personality, I started thinking everything looked pretty sterile. And that’s not me. While I tend to stay on the sparse side in furniture, my walls were always a mass of eclectic color.

I got just a little bit of this back this past week when two of my favorite art pieces, which I had loaned instead of giving away, came back to me.

The first is a huge photograph of a bear that I bought in Park City to celebrate my being promoted to city editor at the Standard-Examiner newspaper in Ogden, Utah. I call him Bubba Bear. He’s a grizzled old thing with scars that tell me he’s a survivor.

Self Portrait

Since managing a flock of reporters is somewhat akin to herding cats, I looked at him as a role model. I hung him in a prominent position in my Utah home and looked at him every morning for inspiration to get through whatever the day threw at me.

There was no way I could give him up, so I made it perfectly clear that he was just on loan when I put him in my youngest daughter’s care.

The second piece of art was stored at my son’s house in Texas. It’s my own work, a large pencil drawing I did for a college art class. The assignment was self-portrait, and I put all the things that I felt were me into it: My desk , my favorite books, my favorite bird, my favorite movie, Angel’s Landing that I climbed every year on my birthday, the newspaper representing my journalism career, a picture in the paper of  me and my former canine companion, Peaches, who preceded both Maggie and Pepper, a Snake River Guide, with a kayak Christmas ornament atop it, and light streaming in from my window. I must have light in my homes.

The two pieces of art now hanging on my walls don’t really enhance my living room from a decorating point of view, but they’re part of me. And looking at both of them makes me feel really good.

Bean’s Pat: A Dangerous Road http://tinyurl.com/pdx3djn It reminds me of a few roads I’ve traveled, but perhaps just a little bit less scary. This is the kind of armchair travel adventure I love.

Gypsy Lee in Capitol Reef Gorge in Utah. during an escape I took with my oldest son during Gypsy Lee’s first year on the road. — Photo by D,C, Bean

Escape = Writing, Nature, Books and Gypsy Lee

Gypsy Lee by Lake Frank Jackson in Alabama at sunset. — Photo by Pat Bean

          Escape from anything the slightest bit heated, boring, uncomfortable, emotional or unpleasant has always been my first line of defense. It began as a child growing up in a turbulent family and never stopped.

I finally learned to face head-on things that simply had to be faced, but I still don’t like it.

These days, when my life is mostly quite mellow, Gypsy Lee is my No. 1 escape mechanism. I use her to escape from itchy feet that still want to go everywhere, see everything and do everything.

I do so love her.

The Wondering Wanderer’s blog pick of the day.

Bean’s Pat: Survivor Fan http://tinyurl.com/bhsdcmo This old broad is a big survivor fan, and this blog – how true, how true – had me rolling on the floor laughing. What a great way to start my morning.

I’m a Blessed Old Broad

My women’s luncheon Wednesday opened my eyes to how blessed I am. There were nine of us, but because of the table configuration, I spent the time primarily talking with three other women.

My grandsons, Patrick, JJ and Tony, giving Gypsy Lee a bath. — Photo by Pat Bean

They were in the neighborhood of what I call my old broad age, a term I use affectionately and which is an age I’m happy to be enjoying. They, however, were concerned about what this age portends.

I didn’t understand at first, and when Lady A said she had moved from her third floor home because it was too hard carrying groceries and other items up three flights of stairs. I, laughingly said, I used my three local grandsons for the heavy stuff.

But then Lady B mentioned that she had to go into a nursing home, which had been quite traumatizing for her, while recovering from a hip transplant. And Lady C said that would probably be her fate, too, if she became disabled.

All three women, I suddenly realized, were single with no children or other family members still living. It was an unhappy fact the trio had long been aware of, however.

It made me realize how fortunate I had been when I broke my ankle earlier this year. My youngest daughter was there for me, doing my shopping and laundry and taking me to the doctor until I could once again drive and get around on my own.

And what’s fun is that I get to do such things as attend Tony and Patrick’s band concerts, which I did just this past Thursday.– Photo by Pat Bean

I have other children and grandchildren as well, who have made it clear that they will be there for me if I ever need them. I’m an independent cuss and hope I will always be so, but I have to admit that knowing they want to be there for me is comforting.

As ladies A, B and C, who had not known each other before the luncheon, realized what they shared, I became the outsider of the group. This was a fact that was actually noted by one of the ladies as the three women began sharing contact information with each other as part of a newly formed support group.

I was extremely happy that they had found each other, and for the first time in my life glad I didn’t fit in. It didn’t feel at all like what Anne Lamott had described in “Bird by Bird” as that kid standing alone by the fence, which had been me growing up.

The Wondering Wanderer’s blog pick of the day.

Bean’s Pat: Thar she blows http://tinyurl.com/a9aeoaz This blog has made me want to go back and reread “Moby Dick.

And that’s the Truth

For the past nine years, my wardrobe consisted almost entirely of cargo pants and shorts worn with a T-shirt top and a pair of tennis shoes. Occasionally I bought a dress for a granddaughter’s wedding or some other special occasion but usually gave it away because it took up too much space in my RV’s small closet.

The lower section of my ever faithful cargo pants zipped off and I had all the clothes I needed while gallivanting around in my RV Gypsy Lee in search of nice trails to hike. — Photo by Kim Perrin

For emergency situations, when T-shirts weren’t exactly appropriate, I had a nice pair of black pants and a couple of nice tops.

The one summer nice top I have, I realized this morning, is dirty because I wore it when I was taken out to breakfast by a son-in-law and three grandsons for Mother’s Day. I wore it with a pair of cotton culottes – is that term even still used?  – that was barely a fashion step up from shorts. But then it was just Denny’s.

Today I’m going out to lunch with a group of women to a nicer place and they, I know, from past lunches, don’t eat lunch in shorts and a T-shirt. And summer in Tucson, which has finally arrived, is a big no-no for hot-bodied me and black pants.

I know women are always stereotyped as complaining they have nothing to wear, but that’s a fact for me this morning. I’m going to have to make an early shopping expedition as soon as I post this. I can’t think of anything more unpleasant. I truly do hate shopping for clothes.

The Wondering Wanderer’s blog pick of the day.

Bean’s Pat: Birding in Wellington where winter is just beginning http://tinyurl.com/b7vcrdq A New Zealand armchair travel adventure.

Nark Twain lives on in memory and on this Garden City, Kansas, bench.

         “Life is short, break the rules. Forgive quickly, kiss slowly. Love truly. Laugh uncontrollably and never regret anything that makes you smile” – Mark Twain

From Mark Twain

I collect quotes, and Mark Twain’s words are not only worth repeating, they’re worth living by.

What’s your favorite Twain book. Mine is “Huckleberry Finn.”

Samuel Clements, aka Mark Twain, said:

The Mark Twain Bridge across his beloved Mississippi River in Hannibal, Missouri, — Photo by Pat Bean

“Don’t go round saying the world owes you a living. The world owes you nothing. It was here first.

            “Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter.”

            “Suppose you were an idiot, and suppose you were a member of Congress; but I repeat myself.” 

            “Whenever you find yourself on the side of the majority, it is time to pause and reflect”

            “If you tell the truth, you don’t have to remember anything.”

            “Patriotism is supporting your country all the time, and your government when it deserves it.”

            “A person who won’t read has no advantage over one who can’t read.”

            “The secret of getting ahead is getting started.”

But Twain’s “Prayer for War,” which was not allowed to be published during his life time, is, I believe, his best work. I cry every time I read it, and think it should be read daily by all who think war is the best solution to this world’s problems.

I didn’t plan on quoting it when I started what I thought would be a fun blog. But now I feel a responsibility to share it.

The War Prayer

By Mark Twain

“O Lord our Father, our young patriots, idols of our hearts, go forth to battle – be Thou near them! With them, in spirit, we also go forth from the sweet peace of our beloved firesides to smite the foe. O Lord our God, help us to tear their soldiers to bloody shreds with our shells; help us to cover their smiling fields with the pale forms of their patriot dead; help us to drown the thunder of the guns with the shrieks of their wounded, writhing in pain; help us to lay waste their humble homes with a hurricane of fire; help us to wring the hearts of their unoffending widows with unavailing grief; help us to turn them out roofless with their little children to wander unfriended the wastes of their desolated land in rags and hunger and thirst, sports of the sun flames of summer and the icy winds of winter, broken in spirit, worn with travail, imploring Thee for the refuge of the grave and denied it – for our sakes who adore Thee, Lord, blast their hopes, blight their lives, protract their bitter pilgrimage, make heavy their steps, water their way with their tears, stain the white snow with the blood of their wounded feet! We ask it, in the spirit of love, of Him Who is the Source of Love, and Who is ever-faithful refuge and friend of all that are sore beset and seek His aid with humble and contrite hearts. Amen.”       

The Wondering Wanderer’s blog pick of the day.

Bean’s Pat: The Iris and the Lily http://tinyurl.com/crn8hbt After that I needed a bit of Mother Nature to calm my soul. Perhaps you do too.

Weekly Photo Challenge: Patterns

The shadow in this pattern tells you what you’re looking at. Want a hint? It’s a bird.

Water and birds often go together, just one more reason I like walking beside water. I found this great egret at the Sea Center in Lake Jackson, Texas. — Photo by Pat Bean

            “Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer’s day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time.” – John Lubbock

Wet Your Eyes and Drink in the Ripples

I’ve been told that a monsoon is coming to Tucson soon. It’s hard to imagine as I pass by dry gullies and creek beds — and even rivers with nary a drop of water to be seen.

sight.

To enjoy the view from above, one first has to get to the top of Angel’s Landing in Zion National Park. — Photo by Pat Bean

Weekly Photo Challenge: Above

My enthusiasm to get to the top of Angel’s Landing in Zion National Park every year on my birthday was motivated by my belief that if I could make it, I could handle anything the next year threw at me.

My immediate reward, however, was a view of the Virgin River and the winding canyon below, where birds flew below me and  people were dwarfed to bug size.

It was an exhilarating experience made even more awesome one year when a pair of peregrines flew below the edge of the ridge. For the first time I got to view the back of these falcons and not just their bellies as they flew.

I suspected the pair was nesting below in the rocks, an occurrence that closes down Angel’s Landing to rock climbers every year. I also suspected that the rock climbers had an even more exhilarating enthusiasm for the view from above after their strenuous efforts to get to the top.

It’s been a few years since I stood on top of Angel’s Landing.  Thankfully, since my children are grown and I’m now into the joys of grandchildren and great-grandchildren, life isn’t throwing me as many curves as it did in my earlier years.

So walking my canine companion, Pepper, up and down three flights of stairs for her four daily walks, has become my motivating challenge to keep me in shape to handle life’s more difficult moments.  But who knows. These efforts might get me into good enough shape that I might once again stand on the top of Angel’s Landing for yet one more view from above.

Ahh! I made it! — Photo by Pat Bean

            Bean’s Pat:  Wild Junket: http://tinyurl.com/buy5x2e Take an armchair exploration of St. Vincent

The woods play a big role in the Tir Alainn series by Anne Bishop, so I thought I would illustrate my blog with one of  my favorite tree photos. — Photo by Pat Bean

Across the bridge  and into the woods, just like in “Shadows and Light.” — Photo by Pat Bean

            “The gift of fantasy has meant more to me than my talent for absorbing positive knowledge.” – Albert Einstein

I  Kept Turning Pages

I’m a bit groggy today. It could be because I stayed up way too early – like until around 3 a.m. – to finish reading Anne Bishop’s “Shadows and Light,” the second in her Tir Alainn trilogy.

I only discovered Anne last month when I was browsing the science fiction and fantasy section of the local library. I’m always looking for good fantasy books and new authors. And after I had read the first in this series, “The Pillars of the World,” I was hooked on Anne.

The  main characters are the Fey and Witches – and strong women. What’s so fun about the creativity allowed in fantasy writing is that Anne’s characterization of Witches and the Fey are quite different from how other authors portray them.

It reminds me of the many different King Arthur versions floating around out there. My all time favorite is Mary Stewart’s Merlin series that begins with “The Crystal Cave,” published in 1970. I was a big fan of Mary long before that, hooked on her historical fiction, with mystery thrown into the mix.” I think I read just about everything Mary ever wrote, including “Nine Coaches Waiting, “My Brother Michael” and Moonspinners.

Just thinking about Mary makes me want to go and revisit some of her work, particularly the Merlin books.  But then there’s also my desire to read Anne’s third book in the Tir Alainn trilogy, “The House of Gaian,” – and her other books as well. I find that if I like one book by an author, I usually like their almost everything they write.

I wonder how much sleep I really need?

The Wondering Wanderer’s blog pick of the day.

  Bean’s Pat: Life’s Total Immersion http://tinyurl.com/c23slef This blogger better expressed some of my own thoughts about why I like fantasy.