perspective

. . .sometimes that mountain you've
been climbing is just a grain of sand. . .

my lil' sis posted this on her facebook the other day and it really struck me. just a grain of sand. maybe it should be my mantra when I feel like things are too much for me to handle. because lately things have been hard. this whole foot drop thing is taking me to the edge on a daily basis, it seems. but I must remember in the grand scheme of things this is just a grain of sand. it could be a lot bigger. a lot worse. it could be a mountain.

and anyway, if there is one thing I've learned in my life, and must remember now, is that for every mountain there is a miracle and I am stronger than I know.

this is my miracle.

"not a sandbox or swings... or those monkey bar things."

I'm all in a heap here. my feet are asleep here. I'm flat out of space. I've got knees in my face. and I'm totally bored with this dumb bungy cord. . . I'm NOT kidding you. . . there is NOTHING to do! --barbara park, ma! there's nothing to do here!

seriously. what does little pj do in there all day?

sometimes I wonder if he's practicing his kung fu moves. or maybe a little tap dancing? whenever I go swimming I like to think that we're both doing the same thing. I think I've even felt him practice his flutter kick.

to be honest, though, I have no idea what he's doing in there. sometimes I can't tell his bum from his head. was that a fist or a foot? who knows. but I do love watching the belly move. I could sit there for hours just staring at my stomach. like, you know, maybe even when I'm at the movie theater watching terminator my belly might be more exciting than the movie. I'm just sayin'. totally fascinating.

since he's probably pretty bored in there with only that bungee cord to play with, I read him {and peter senior} this cute little book today. this is a great read for any expectant mamma. cute pictures plus a funny little story. am loving children's books lately.

{thanks again, oma! it was the perfect pioneer day surprise}

thriving

When I was little, when it rained, my grandmother would always say, "Well, it's good for the farmers." And I would give lip service and say, "That's true," and then I'd feel bad about the fact that I really didn't care about the farmers. I just wanted sun.

For thirty years, I pretty much just wanted sun.

But the other day, when it rained, I wasn't disappointed. I'd seen the difference to my new community garden plot after watering with a hose versus a soaking with a good rain. One keeps it alive. The other makes it thrive. --colin beavan, no impact man

well, then. our little garden is thriving. normally I would be thrilled about the amount of rain we have been getting here in salt lake city, utah. this is no ordinary june. every day on the forecast, more showers. it isn't unearthly hot. I really quite enjoy the thunderstorms.

but only after three pm.

as you could imagine, running a summer day camp {when all your activities are based outside} is kinda hard to do in the rain. especially when kids only come in tshirts and shorts. I guess their parents just don't look outside. so all I am saying is bring on the rain--my garden is loving it, the foliage around this valley is loving it, the water supply is loving it; but I am not loving it during camp.

that is all.

follow your bliss

"if you do follow your bliss, you put yourself on a kind of track that has been there all along, waiting for you, and the life that you ought to be living is the one you are living. when you can see that, you begin to meet people who are in your field of bliss, and they open the doors to you."

--joseph campbell

returning to the light

...at winter solstice,
Sun is at its lowest point:
the longest night,
the most profound descent
into the dark,
and a subsequent turning
of the cycle,
a return to the Light...










one of my favorite days of the year is the summer solstice. the daylight is long and endless, leaving its warmth and slanted angles long into the evening. it is something to be celebrated. but I am always left feeling a little tinge of sadness; the light will soon fade into increasing darkness. my days will get shorter, little by little, until we are plunged into endless night.

but there comes a time where night is at its longest, and the light will be reborn. our days will become longer. and life will eventually start to grow once again.

how fitting that this event happens at this time of year. we need not despair, or be engulfed by darkness. there is Light.

we just need to turn to that Light.

it is a thing to be celebrated.

{photo | quote}

an ode to the decemember'ish weather while on a four mile run

big, fatty, flurry flakes
fluttering from the sky
I am running
they are falling
falling in my eye

* * *

this is as far as I got. I had to turn my concentration from composing poetry on the run to not getting hit by anything but snowflakes.

upward lift

we were traveling down wyoming state road twenty-six, the landscape zooming beyond the window, my thoughts swirling. talk of the fallen arch filled the car. it's sad that future generations won't get to see it, she said. they'll all be gone someday, I responded. but new formations will rise. it's the same song and dance that has been going on since the beginning of time. through various forces, rocks rise. until time, erosion, gravity pull it all downward. it is a cycle. the sacred interplay of rebirth and renewal, of rise and fall.

quickly, I wrote these words down; putting pen to paper before they were forgotten:

the upward lift of rock to heaven
like hands held up in prayer

I held on to this imagery as we kept speeding past the tetons. I thought of these rocks, these mountain spires pushing up toward the sky. prayers unto heaven. hoping one day I, too, could be strong like the mountain.

only the open road

big occasions and races which have
been eagerly anticipated almost to the point of dread,
are where great deeds can be accomplished

--jack lovelock, 1936 olympic 1500m gold medalist

comforting words on a sleepless night

may we all advance confidently in the direction of our dreams this year. truly live that life you have imagined. I know that we can achieve more than we ever thought possible if we just dare to put our two feet forward. believe.

image via flickr | words via henry david thoreau

the beauty of discovery

club u campers exploring their world at the great salt lake
Fall Break Science Camp 2007

teaching children about the natural world should be treated as one of the most important events in their lives. --thomas berry

openness and freedom

photo via flickr

love flowers best in openness and freedom. --edward abbey

on holiday

life is either a daring adventure, or nothing.
--helen keller

a love of all things wild

in wildness is the preservation of the world.

--henry david thoreau

images via mr ansel adams

the chicken dance collection

thanks, miggs, for posting this via your blog. I just love it so much. during the summer my coworkers and I would often try to do a chicken dance or two. but nobody can do it quite like the bluth's.

the pfeiferhorn: a siren's song

the pfeiferhorn is an elusive peak. tried many times by many people, she is still left to be conquered. {okay, so people have summitted the pfeiferhorn before. just not me and pete. or scotty.} but even in our defeat, we find ourselves coming back again and again.

poor planning foiled our first attempt together. fowl weather ruined our second before we even set foot on the mountain. this weekend's fate wasn't much better, it seems.

we set out late in the evening on friday. hiking in the cool mountain air and the slanted sunlight was pure delight compared to the heat of the summer sun of our last trip. we arrived at lower red pine lake at dusk, ready to set up camp and jet boil our dinner before going to bed.

we went to sleep as soon as it got dark, which meant it was around nine o'clock. which also meant we initially woke up pretty early. I won't complain, though, if I'm waking up to this scene outside my tent. it was a beautiful morning. and very leisure. {I loves me my jet boil oatmeal in the morning, eaten right out of the packet}

from our last experience, we thought we knew exactly what to do. hike to upper red pine lake and then scramble up the steep, rocky slope on the left to the ridge. follow the ridge, go across the saddle that connects you to the pfeiferhorn, summit the peak and call it a day. it turns out this route is not the best idea. we went the hard way. we went the long way. we went the more unsafe way. {we saw others out hiking it, going up another smaller ridge that bypasses the long ridge we had to traverse. it looked much quicker and easier.} you see, this ridge we were hiking scrambling across wasn't solid ground. it was a mountain of boulders. loose rock piled on top of eachother, some more stable than others. it wasn't until a large boulder slightly crushed my leg as it came loose and tumbled down the mountain that I really started to get sketched out. {I have some scrapes and light bruise to prove it} but we kept pushing forward. slowly but surely. we stopped about halfway through the ridge. what lay ahead didn't look too promising. a steeper slope of what looked like pretty loose rock. {that photo does not do it justice} we didn't want to tempt the fate this mountain had to offer. we accepted defeat. we sat ourselves down and ate lunch, taking full advantage of the view we had before us.

we had spent four hours hiking up there round trip. boulder field after boulder field. it was hard work, and very slow going. we didn't go back down the exact way we had gone up. after the requisite lunch-time stop, we did not want to hike back over the ridge we had climbed. {it looked scarier going back the other direction} so we traversed down the rocky slope face instead. once we weren't on the steep incline of boulders I felt safer, though this is when pete chimes in with, "be careful. people die in boulder fields like this all the time." yeah, very comforting. at least the boulder fields down below were more stable and secure. you still had to be leery of the wiggly ones, though. finally we got through the boulder fields and back to our camp for a very much needed nap.

after packing up camp, we headed down the trail. another pfeiferhorn trip come and gone. the peak still out of reach. but we walked away with all that the mountain had taught us and a plan for our next trip.

* * *

in mountain climbing even the most prepared suffer defeat. it is ultimately up to the mountain. she will let you know if she wants you there. she will allow you to pass through or remain with your dreams just out of reach. it is up to you to listen to her soft whisperings and learn the lessons she has to teach. the wise listen and will remain to try another day.

the pfeiferhorn: the tallest peak in the photo

what is defeat? nothing but education; nothing but the first step to something better. --wendell phillips

portrait from inside a tent

the life of man is the true romance, which when it is valiantly conduced, will yield the imagination a higher joy than any fiction. --ralph waldo emerson

touched with ocean

all that we do
is touched with ocean, yet we remain
on the shore of what we know
--richard wilbur

happy earth day.

"Mountains compliment desert as desert complements city, as wilderness compliments and completes Civilization.
"A man could be a lover and defender of the wilderness without ever in his lifetime leaving the boundaries of asphalt, powerlines, and right-angled surfaces. We need wilderness whether or not we ever set foot in it. We need a refuge even though we may never need to go there." --Edward Abbey

champions for the earth

Edward Abbey.
Writer, ‘desert anarchist’, 1927—1989

"The most common form of terrorism in the U.S.A. is that carried on by bulldozers and chainsaws. It is not enough to understand the natural world; the point is to defend and preserve it. Sentiment without action is the ruin of the soul."

Terry Tempest Williams.

Naturalist, Writer, Environmental Activist 1955 –

"The eyes of the future are looking back at us and they are praying to see beyond our own time."

Rachel Carson.
Biologist, Writer, Ecologist, 1907-1964

“The ‘control of nature’ is a phrase conceived in arrogance, born of the Neanderthal age of biology and the convenience of man.”

Henry David Thoreau.

Naturalist, Writer, Social Critic, 1817-1862

"The law will never make men free; it is men who have go to make the law free."

John Muir.
Conservationist, naturalist, explorer, 1838—1914

“The battle we have fought, and are still fighting for the forests is part of the eternal conflict between right and wrong, and we cannot expect to see the end of it . . . So we must count on watching and striving for these trees, and should always be glad to find anything so surely good and noble to strive for.”

Americans Who Tell the Truth

Phenomenal Woman

Phenomenal Woman Maya Angelou

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.

I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman

Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.