Posts Tagged With: nature

The Winds Will Blow

Posted on December 21, 2013 by Kami

Thursday Afternoon:

The current variety of stomach bug snuck up on me  from behind and attacked in full force with vengeance and slaughter as its only aim.

Thursday Night:

The wee hours brought a thunderstorm that parked itself over our house and proceeded to play a few frames of Bowling with the Gods. In my semi-delirious state I thought perhaps they’d be carrying me away when the games played out.

Friday Morning:

Surprisingly I woke in my own bed the next morning, spent, still spinning a bit but able to walk. I slogged to the front door and peeked out to see what havoc had rained down whilst I attempted sleep. A gray sky still hovered low and ominous save for a small area of sunlight valiantly attempting a go at it. I grabbed my camera and captured this image.

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All gray sky but this one small area of sun trying to break through.

And with this scene I also captured a desire to go outside, under that sky. I wanted to capture a few lingering raindrops, to feel the fresh air on my pallid skin. More than anything I wanted to replace the rancid indoor air of my lungs with this ozone enhanced and rain cooled wonderful misty infused oxygen.

Friday Noon:

I’m sure I’ve never walked so slowly through the Riparian. My energy levels sat near zero, but my wish  outdoors drove me there almost as much as the car did. My slow pace lent itself to noticing things I sometimes miss. The overcast skies kept the wildlife active and vibrant where they’re usually subdued and snoozing at midday.

Friday Afternoon:

I’d certainly walked too far for how ill I’d felt the day before, but the effects of nature’s tender cloud filled  embrace had worked magic on my heart.

Saturday:

Here I share a few of the glories available less than one mile from my home. I think it’s time I made a regular practice of visiting there as I did a few years ago.

A few valiant blossoms in the chill air of the desert.
A couple of ducks unconcerned with mere mortals.
Moving slowly let me notice these quarter inch blooms.
Cloud art.
A fall-like golden leafed tree, a rare sight in our neck of the woods.
You should see one of these Egrets in flight!
When it rains these puff balls become small pearls encased in drops of water.
Another attempt by our everyday blue sky to interrupt a perfectly good gray day.
Feels like I’m a hundred miles from home and civilization.
I could watch these little birds foraging all day long.
My favorite bird ever, an elusive Night Heron, not often seen at midday.

“Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves.” ~ John Muir

Categories: Nature, Outdoors, physical health | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

‘Swonderful

Posted on November 29, 2013 by Kami

I captured some bits of nature this past month. Actually, I only managed to get photographs of those bits. The real thing took my breath away, time after time, and sadly, had stay behind.

photo-21 copy 8For instance, this lady bug that took a layover on my jeans as I sat lakeside. Crawled right on my finger, no hesitation, no worry. Then back to my jeans. The bright orange-red, the antennae, the black spots, vibrant and stunning in comparison to the azure water, the cerulean sky, the gray rock and sand.

photo-19 copy 3While hiking in the November forest, most of the trees bare for the coming snows, a few trees donned this delicate lacy moss. Reminded me of ice crystals, bright green and practically growing as I watched. Not sure I’ve ever seen a more lovely winter coat.

photo 2-2The waves at Lake Tahoe, one of the clearest I’ve ever seen, created this pattern in the beige sand, with a light dusting of almost black sand adding contrast. Incredible unique artwork.

photo 1-2But then I took a walk on the dock and saw this underfoot. Nearly the same waves duplicated in the wood that stands above the water. Nature duplicating nature?

photo-19 copy 13Trees never cease to surprise me. Frosty mornings, one after another, can strip most trees bare fairly quickly. And yet, here and there, bright colors hang on to their branches tenacious and brilliant. How many shades of orange can you see?

photo-18 copy 6Taking an alternate path down the mountain from the one we hiked up led to some backtracking, exploring and uncertainty. Fortunately it also led back, eventually, to somewhere close to where we started. Nature continued to surprise and delight along the way. Looking back where I’d been I captured this view, one that felt somehow like biting into a fresh peach. The juice of the moment running down my chin, the sweetness saturating all my senses.

If I ever get to doubting about the wonder and beauty of life, I simply need to slow down, look around and pay attention.

‘Swonderful!

 

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Taste Nature

Posted on October 28, 2013 by Kami

Look at this beautiful quote my daughter found and then created for her kitchen wall.

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When a person first looks at this hanging on the wall, aside from the beautiful green color, they initially read  “Taste Nature.” The they step in closer and read the entire thing.

“Given a taste for nature early in life.” What is that?

Is that a big red bowl full of a variety fresh fruit on the table all the time? The rich colors and textures of apples, pineapple, bananas, pears, and oranges inviting exploration and delighting the eye. Or is it snacks that consist of a bowl of fresh blueberries or grapes or apples? Perhaps it means meals made from scratch, or mostly scratch, fresh-baked bread or muffins, cooking done at home. Maybe it means trying new stuff at a young age because Mom or Dad seem to like it, stuff such as artichokes, asparagus, beets, frozen bananas, yams, squash or cherry tomato.

Fruit Basket

Fruit Basket (Photo credit: frankdasilva)

Or maybe a taste for nature early in life is spending time outside, bare feet in the grass, toes wriggling through sand, running through a sprinkler, throwing rocks in a pond, camping while still in diapers, helping plant and grow a backyard garden, or as simple as a regular walk outside?

Acquiring a taste for nature could also involve opening the windows to let the outdoors inside. Birds chirping, a breeze playing among the leaves, the plink and plunk of rain falling, a dog in the distance, perhaps a rooster crowing. Or you might open the car windows and let the scents of the places you pass make a child wonder at the smell of a distant grass fire,  fresh mown lawn or the dense rich aroma of mouldering leaves.

Or inviting a taste of nature may include a vase of flowers, a houseplant or two, a landscape painting hung nearby, or noticing and watching the sunset through a window.

I imagine every minuscule contact with nature a child experiences brings a richness into their lives that will serve them in countless ways in their future. The more interactive the better.

My only research on this topic involves seeing how my own children, and others as well, have enjoyed the outdoors, how they’ve reveled in the variety of flavors and colors nature provides. I’ve seen my life abundantly served and richly blessed by nature’s bounty.

With a taste for nature coursing through my veins I’ve found in life a cornucopia of wonder and beauty and joy.

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Categories: Nature, Outdoors | Tags: , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

Flying Fire

Posted on October 9, 2013 by Kami

While camping with my young family in North Carolina I experienced something truly splendiferous for the first time.

English: Campfire with sparks in Anttoora, Fin...

Campfire with sparks. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

A campfire worked itself into a steady quiet burn. Smoke spiraled lazily from its center. The day settled out in a tired wash of well-worked muscles. Each kid, except for the three-year old who was asleep in the tent, had a stirring stick inside the fire. Not that the fire needed stirring, but kids seem compelled to play with fire, literally and proverbially. They’d ignite the end and then, sparkler-like, draw designs in the air until the flame died out. Then they’d spin smoke signals, tendrils of nothingness joining in the spiral from the center of the main fire. This game could go on for nearly an hour until we called bedtime. Until then, we let them play.

My eyes followed the line of smoke upward as it wove itself among the dense canopy of leaves. No breeze of any kind disturbed the disappearing trail of grey. The trees stood completely still and quiet. The coolness of the air began to settle in around our feet. I leaned back on the large log I sat on, hugged my arms to warm up a bit and looked up to see the stars. Nothing surpasses starlight’s intensity when out camping somewhere far from city lights.

The overhead leaves and branches obstructed the view of the night sky, except for a patch here or there. My eyes searched to find familiar constellations, but the sections of sky I could see were too small. Then movement caught my attention. The leaves weren’t moving and yet they seemed to move. I asked my husband if he’d heard of a meteor shower happening. That caught his attention. He sat down beside me and looked up.

I pointed to the patch of sky I’d seen moving. “There,” I said, and “there, and there.” A meteor shower for sure, but without the streaks of light. These stars resembled embers in a fire, a quick flash of light that would disappear then quickly reappear as another flash nearby.

“That is not a meteor shower,” my husband said definitively. “Those are fireflies!” He laughed. “Come here, kids,  you gotta see this!”

common eastern (USA) firefly. Français : Photi...

Don’t let his looks fool you, this little guy can light things up and get a party going.

What? No. That’s not what fireflies look like, I thought to myself. Those lights are in the distance, high up in the atmosphere. And yet, I looked again, maybe he’s right.

The excitement and shift in his voice elicited instant obedience. The stirring sticks dropped to the ground and they rushed over to where my husband sat. He pointed skyward.

“Do you see those lights in the trees?” he asked the kids. “Watch. See those flashing, moving lights? Those are fireflies.”

“Cool!” The two of them said in tandem. “Can we catch them?”

“Don’t be silly,” I said, “they’re way past the tops of the trees.” But as I said this, the lights drew closer to us. Sure enough, the small group of lights flitted about lower and lower in the branches and then began to spread out and disperse. They didn’t fly close enough for us to see any details,  we simply admired their on again off again glow.

The kids ran and jumped and spun around under the disappearing blinking bugs. The air around us felt magical somehow, as if the sky itself had reached down and christened our camping spot with traveling starlight. Tinkerbell herself couldn’t have cast a better spell.

I’m pretty sure we floated off to sleep on a cloud of wonder and awe.

The cleverest of magicians and the finest of artists, Gaia, the ancient Greek goddess of earth,  surely weaves her incantations and her brushes with panache and skill. Better than stargazing and better than a meteor shower my first experience with fireflies put a smile on my face that lasted several days.

Thinking about it even this many years later makes me want to believe in magic.

Categories: Fun, Nature, Outdoors | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Open the Windows

Posted on October 3, 2013 by Kami
My flowers are loving the cooler weather, and so am I.

My flowers are loving the cooler weather, and so am I.

Guess what?

It’s gardening season!!! Happy dance, happy dance, happy dance!

Yessirreebob! In the desert climate of Arizona, it’s time to put those seeds in the ground. I get tingly all over just thinking about it.

Tingly might be overstating things a little.

Who wouldn't rather spend time with this beauty than a pile of laundry?

Who wouldn’t rather spend time with this beauty than a pile of laundry?

There’s just something about getting my hands in the soil, helping Mother Nature with her tasks, watching the little nothings of seeds become shiny orange carrots, rich red beets, curly green spinach. Sure, I admit that it’s work, but anticipatory work. Work with an outcome you can see and that lasts. It’s nothing like doing dishes or laundry or mopping or any other sort of indoor chore that already needs  redoing within hours, if not minutes after finishing.

I’d almost always rather be outside than inside. If I were rich I’d pay a glorious someone big bucks to keep the housework under control so I could frolic in the garden, mow the grass, plant bushes, trim trees, map out square foot plots of wonder and green stuff. I’d eat outside every meal I could, with a big shady umbrella for day time and candlelight in the evening.

Oh wait. I could do part of that now, without a house helper. Nothing’s stopping me from taking breakfast out to the patio table and breathing in the (finally) cool morning air of fall.

Surely I can ignore a few chores indoors and let my feet take me outside more often, to clean up the summer’s detritus and prep a spot for some waiting fall plantings.

Patio lights

Patio lights! (Photo credit: life is good (pete))

And evenings, well, sure, they’re a bit busy for me, but still, I could light a candle or two out back and sit in a lawn chair, look up at the stars, breath out the days dusty worries and breath in some oxygen freshly exhaled from the nearby orange tree. Or I could head out front to the porch swing and watch the world wander past at the park, catch a glimpse of a hummingbird getting its last sip from the feeder before settling in for the night.

I could probably even read a chapter or two by candlelight, or patio light if I thought about it.

It’s that priceless time of year in the desert with only good things to anticipate and summer’s heat a fading memory. It’s open window season, music wafting out into the yard season, planting hope season.

Related articles you should definitely read… and a Planting Guide
Categories: Gardening, Nature, Outdoors, phoenix | Tags: , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Wild, Wilder, Wilderness

Posted on August 10, 2013 by Kami

Loved this quote and the painting it was on. I experienced the feeling of the heartbeat of the land when I visited Cherry Creek State Park in Aurora, Colorado a while ago. What a great idea to have nature in the middle of cityscape. Surely a place like that lends a feeling of well-being to anyone who gets to drive past, look at, utilize, experience or immerse themselves in it.

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Near where I live is a riparian preserve, amidst the desert landscapes and suburbs and traffic. Less than a mile’s walk away finds me wandering quiet paths, breathing slightly more humid air, sighting rabbits, observing birds and laughing at various critters. My heart seems to tune itself to the heartbeat of the earth as I walk there. My mind quiets. Thoughts settle out. I see things clearer. It’s like a reboot for my soul.

I was lucky enough to grow up in the foothills, where a hike was five minutes away, and a cookout in the mountains for an evening meal was only half an hour away. We even took off for breakfast in the mountains at least once or twice a year. There’s nothing else like mountain air to whet your appetite. Cooking and eating outdoors is the best seasoning I’ve ever tasted.

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I am one of those who can’t live without wild things. If I remember to get my daily dose of nature, of wildness in one form or another, then life flows smoother and feels happier. The trick is to remember and make time for this most important of daily rituals.

Do you touch base with nature every day? Does it make a difference in your life?

Categories: Nature, Outdoors | Tags: , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

When Life Gives You Snails, Make Escargot

Posted on July 19, 2013 by Kami

Day seven of Mom’s new adventure. She’s working with several different kinds of rehabilitation therapists about four hours a day and then resting from the hard work of it all. She can walk with assistance. She’s speaking better everyday. Remembering names is sometimes a bit tricky for her. She has some right side vision neglect that they are working on. She still has her sense of humor and expresses gratitude and love to everyone who visits or helps her out in any way.

&&&&&

We lived in the Northwest for a few years once upon a time. Humid and cool, opulent with growing things. We picked wild blackberries, rock climbed, camped, collected shells in the too cold water below the Tacoma Narrows bridge.

Winters were mild, with a couple of rare days of snow. Summers were cool and cloudy.

English: Snail Perfect weather for snails to c...

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Perfect conditions for snails.

Yes, snails.

Slimy, slow-moving, bulbous shelled creatures of shadow and night.

They left trails of slime across the screens and sidewalks. And the destruction they left in a flower bed aggravated me to no end.

I tried a few remedies. Beer in a bowl, useless. Slug and snail bait, laughable. Salt, only if applied directly and mercilessly. I finally gave up planting flowers when I realized how addictive they seemed to snails.

I imagined the little slime balls after a night of debauchery in the flower beds, drunk on the nectar of blossoms and stems, fuzzy headed with the liquor of leaves and roots. I chose to stop enabling their habit and consequently stopped planting the hopeful pops of color in my garden.

That would teach them a lesson or two.

But no, it didn’t. They simply slimed the screens and sidewalks with more vehemence in search of their drug of choice. Finding no flowers to wreak havoc on, they slimed my yard more and more.

Why am I bringing this up now? (Besides the fact that the weatherman keeps taunting us with a 20% chance of rain as if a deluge is likely any moment.)

Those slimy snails remind me of negative things; sadness, anger, hopelessness, frustration, meanness, selfishness.

Those emotions seem to leave a wake of slimy yuck behind them. I feel the aftereffects of aggravation long after the source of the emotion dissipates. Sadness lingers. Meanness replays itself over and over in a mental movie of hurt. And selfishness hovers like a skunk that passed by hours ago.

The residual effects of negative emotions stick like slime.

Negativity and pessimism act like addictive substances. One angry thought invites another until a whole room of anger buzzes and jabs. Anything in its wake takes a hit and comes up fighting. Slime trails wander everywhere.

Gross.

The cure?

French cooked snails

French cooked snails (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I don’t know. (We don’t get many snails here in the desert.)

Sunlight, maybe?

Heat, perhaps.

Escargot tastes delectable if done right. Saute’ in butter, add a bit of garlic, a pinch of fresh parsley. Mmmm. Some crusty french bread on the side.

Ah yes, there’s the ticket.

Yummy.

That’s no answer. I realize that.

Or is it? Try this one on for size:

When life gives you snails, make escargot. 

Laughter often sparks more laughter. I’m pretty sure that hope can be contagious. Smiles seem transmittable. Kindness often avalanches into more kindness. Determination to succeed, to overcome, to soldier forward feels healthier and happier.

Can I choose positive emotions over negative? Sure. Is it an easy choice? For some, yes. For others, not necessarily.

In the face of hardship, illness, unkindness, hurt, abuse, loss, suffering or setbacks, choosing the plus side takes audacity. It requires mettle to move forward, keep trying, be kind anyway, turn the other cheek, forgive, smile or to look at the alternate path as a new adventure.

Yes, I know. Not too many people like the idea of eating snails, no matter how wonderful a delicacy. But, you never know until you try if you’re gonna like ’em or not. Or maybe you don’t mind the slime trails and flower bed destruction. More power to you for being so resilient and easy-going.

Either way, life is full of surprises good and bad. How we weather those surprises, as gifts or troubles, makes all the difference.

Categories: Gardening, Nature, Outdoors, Wondering | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

The Hills Are Alive

Posted on June 11, 2013 by Kami

It’s Gratituesday! I’m thankful for sweet surprises out in the natural world this past week.

Two mornings in a row I encountered an elk herd grazing near my campsite. Majestic, serene, bigger than life, these animals seem unruffled by humans and all their noise. They tolerate our presence. They look on in what I imagine is amusement at all our accoutrements and fluff and necessary survival gear. Meanwhile they wander the forest finding what they need, surrounded by family.

The Douglas Squirrel (Tamiasciurus douglasii) ...

Myriad numbers of squirrels crossed my path. Big fat ones, the size of cats! I’m afraid they might be getting too many munchies from the human side of the food chain, i.e., green apple flavored hard candy, (lick, lick, lick, lick, lick…) tootsie rolls, “cheese” covered corn chips, hot dogs, marshmallows, chocolate, taffy. Can you just picture their little food storage dens loaded with acorns, random candy and assorted junk food? They probably get through the winter on their body fat alone. Cute little critters though. I credit them with keeping the forest clean, the little foragers seem to love it all.

I also witnessed a variety of lizards, large and small, striped and plain, tailed and tail-less.

Butterflies visited a damp spot nearby every morning. I’m not talking your average run-of-the-mill monarch, although they are stunning. No, there were nickel-sized periwinkle blue fluttering songlets, yes, songlets. Their wings beat in a rhythm I couldn’t match and they flitted about like notes on a page, tones on a scale. Breathtaking. And the yellow butterflies were flower-petaled in their grace and color, elegant fliers with direction and purpose and no hurry to them at all. One morning a wasp or hornet of a variety I’d never seen before stopped by the butterfly watering spot. The stinger on that yellow and black sleek body was three inches long or more. Maybe it wasn’t a stinger, maybe it was a feeler, an antennae. I didn’t stick around to find out. Looked fierce enough to give it a wide path.

Pointleaf Manzanita blooming in the Mazatzal W...

Did I mention the wildflowers? I need to learn their names. A snapdragon-like cluster of three-foot stems with pale blue curling petals lined our hiking path several times. And always there were ground-hugging miniature purple throw rugs of flowers. Bright yellow mini-daisies jumped out in surprising places. Even the Manzanita trees had blossoms on them, highlighting the deep brownish red of their bark. Fresh needles, soft to the touch and new-green, tipped the branches of every pine tree. There’s no air-freshener in the world that matches that scent!

Luckily nature didn’t provide too many snakes, bugs, spiders or stinging or poisonous plants. I got lucky that way. Sure there were a couple of blisters, a cold night or two, some scorching days, but all the beauties that nature provides makes time out in the mountains a cornucopia of things to be thankful for.

If it’s been a while since you’ve experienced the joys of the mountains, maybe you can enjoy Julie Andrews singing about that particular joy. If you listen closely at the beginning you can hear birds in the background. Nice touch.

Categories: Gratitude, Gratituesday, Nature, Outdoors | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Answering the Call of the Wild As Best I Can

Posted on May 29, 2013 by Kami

Nature calls. No, not the way you’re thinking.

Let me rephrase.

I’ve heard the call of the great outdoors, the mountains, ponderosa pines and dirt trails for a couple of months now. It’s been a long while since I’ve been out among the wild things.

I’m anticipating some nature time here soon. Just thinking about it relaxes the muscles in my back and brings a smile to my face. Ahhhh….

English: Young female cones on Ponderosa Pine ...

Did you know the bark on a Ponderosa pine tree has a vanilla scent to it? You have to get up close and personal to really pick it up, but it’s there. And the needles and pine pitch? Mmmmmm, there’s a smell to enliven the soul and rejuvenate the senses.

Getting away from the light pollution of the city, up into the mountains, allows a view of the night sky that’s always there, but not always visible. A spectacle of magic and mystery, uncountable stars emblazon the night sky like so many scattered gems on a black velvet cloth. That alone gives pause for some seriously deep contemplation and introspection.

Hiking slows the pace of the world down to manageable proportions. There’s time for savoring details like a scattering of quarter-inch flowers, or the sound of a small stream making its way downhill, or the varieties of green.

Birds accompany every activity up there, especially morning goings on. Mornings and birds are inseparable and a perfect combination, like hot chocolate and whipped cream. Every pip, cheep, chitter, whistle, peep, and song adds to the delights of the day.

Cooler air. Ah, yes. Getting off the desert floor up into higher country provides a welcome and much-needed respite from the flirting with 100’s temps we’ve had here. Just the mere sound of wind making its way through the pine boughs brings relief. When the actual breeze brushes past carrying snatches of songs from all the trees I feel renewed, baptised and reborn.

I think I sound lovestruck. Infatuated. Irrational.

Probably true.

Toronto racoon at night. Toronto, Canada is no...

The reality is:

  • I don’t sleep well while camping. I’m jittery and nervous of the great outdoor’s night noises.
  • At the first hint of daylight I’m outta the tent and building a huge fire and heating a pot of water.
  • Some of the other campers will be noisy, annoying, silly and clueless.
  • There’s probably some fire restrictions if not an outright ban.
  • Mosquitos and I don’t get along well and will be battling it out every evening.
  • After a few days of bliss I’ll be happy to return to the valley of heat, dust, flush toilets and long hot showers, pillows, beds and internet connections.
  • I’ll wax nostalgic about the mountains and nature until the next time I get to escape.

English: Old growth Ponderosa pines in Lost Fo...

The other reality is:

  • I’ll love it while I’m there, itchy bites, dirty hair, sleepless nights and all.
  • The hills are alive with the sound of music and bugs and crazed campers and beauty.
  • There’s no separating the good from the bad.

So while I’m packing up the flashlight, camp chair, bug repellant and sleeping bag, I’ll also bring along a pen and notebook, a camera, my hiking boots and my decent attitude.

I’ll leave my iPod and earbuds at home though. I don’t want to miss nature’s playlist.

Categories: Nature, Outdoors | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Summertime

Posted on May 23, 2013 by Kami

School’s out today for the next couple of months. No more national anthem wafting across the park every morning at 8:45. No more a.m. and p.m. traffic as parents drop off and pick up their littles. No more playground noises, of tether ball chains against poles, kick ball, swings squeaking, girls screeching, boys in mock battles, girls piled up in little cliques like so many fall leaves blown into a pile.

Ah, the summer freedom of children.

Months stretch out before them in a vast sweeping prairie of waving grasses, unexplored trails, toes in cold streams, popsicles dripping, and entire days spent swimming.

Oh wait, that was my childhood. Do kids still do that?

English: Cottonwood Trees in Lions Park

There’s still a sense of freedom, but I get the feeling that it’s only a pale shadow of the freedom I enjoyed.

I took off running by ten every morning to my best friend’s house. From there the two of us would race to the park, with its open grass fields, a swampy tadpole pond, a meandering creek, a cottonwood tree-filled valley, ivy covered hills, rusty barbed wire fence lines. We spent most of the day there roaming, dreaming, romping, hiding, in imaginary wars with other kids who also played there.

Completely unsupervised.

Yes.

Not an adult in sight. Can you imagine it?

It was a different world. An innocent time. A protected, sweet existence.

A small pocket of pure perfection.

Categories: Memory Lane, Nature, Outdoors, The World | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

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