Tag: Seasons

Past, Present, and Future

Read if you will. Or just accept my wishes that you have had a good holiday season, and for a happy, healthy new year!

This contemplative message comes to you as we transition from religious and national holidays of the season to celebrating the beginning of a new year. I am unsure of its edifying value. Mostly I muse and wander, skirting around feelings that have emerged as another post-Pam holiday season approached. Read if you will. Or just accept my wishes that you have had a good holiday season, and for a happy, healthy new year!

Past
Present
Future
Living in the Past, Present, and Future

Past

Youth have no past of their own. Few, if any, memories to dwell on. They learn of their past from those within their circles. Family, family friends, school, religious affiliations. Youth develop a past as they age. They typically become aware in their teens. And while learning their past, they start to question. Some learn life’s lessons early through both happy and tragic experiences.

Adults carry their past with them as they bound along life’s highways and byways. All the while adding to the volume and depth of past experiences. The past molds their outlook on life. It impacts their decisions. It is integral to their thought processes. Their past is both a blessing and a curse.

Later in life our early past often lies latent. Only surfacing when reminded. More recent past begins to emerge as repeat experiences. Sometimes melding and becoming confused as intermingling fibers of new and well-worn clothing. The past continues to guide us. And yet we have forgotten so much!

The past is both a teacher and a burden to the aged. Wisdom comes from how we reconcile the past. Yet its weight is always upon us as we navigate what’s left of our lives.

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Present

We live in the present. Or do we? We meet each day anew. Yesterday is in the past. Tomorrow is unknown.

Youth experience each day with little expectation. Their limited past is of little help for the day. They rely on their wits and those whom they accept as having wisdom enough to guide them. Parents, siblings, peers. At the end of the day, they have added good and/or ill experiences to their past. Youth have yet to deeply contemplate the future.

Adults navigate life’s trials and tribulations. Relationships, work, family, social interactions. Though somewhat guided by the past, they are enough to fill the day. The past can straighten life’s paths or obscure roads from vision. The past can lift up or bring down. It does both from time to time. Each day’s decisions are based on past experience and hopes and dreams of the future.

The past envelops us as a binding or a blanket as it becomes the greater part of our life span. More of the day is spent remembering. We can be suffocated by it. We can embrace it. But we can’t escape it. Days are filled with memories. We remember past hopes and dreams for the future. We are on a destiny train to the future.

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Future

Youth do not understand the future. They have no experience to lead them on. Their concept of the future is forever. Their view of the future is couched in their learned past. They start to look to the future as they gather past experience. They develop a concept of what life will bring.

Adults look to the future from instinct. The drive to survive presses notions of sustenance, shelter, procreation. Adults develop plans. Some detail their every move while others press on with vague notions of direction. Aspirations. Hopes. Goals. Wishes. All are looking to the future.

Aging changes future perspective. The future is shorter. It is finite. Aspirations, hopes, goals, and wishes are either fulfilled or lost in the past. The future looks more toward legacy. What will be left behind to lend wisdom to others’ pasts? There is both fulfillment and emptiness as we contemplate Days of Future Past 1.

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Living in the Past, Present, and Future

Personally, this year’s season is a true mixture of the past, present, and future. I am aware of the weight and the wisdom of my past. Memories of holidays from my youth and adulthood mingle with my recent past. They include loved ones who are either gone or far away. We can no longer celebrate as once we did. Decorations, cards, and gifts now recall those memories. Memories of what was and is no more.

At the same time I feel excitement and contentment for what is now my life. New love, new friends, new surroundings add to the joy of being closer to family. Each day is new unto itself. Retirement affords me to choose to do, or not do, the daily tasks before me – within reason. I am thankful for the day.

As in the past, my present hope for your future is a happy, healthy new year!

Past
Present
Future
Living in the Past, Present, and Future

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  1. Album by the Moody Blues ↩︎

Seasons

Last week we were in Wisconsin. Chosen, at this time, for the opportunity to experience the rolling, tree-covered hills along the Wisconsin river, which led us to good friends near Madison. Thankfully, they accepted the self-invitation!

We were not disappointed. We seem to have picked the peak week for tree watching, so to speak. Earlier, we would have likely found too few multi-colored wooded knolls. Next week, with its cooler temperatures and frosty winds, the same vistas could be somewhat emptied of foliage. Saturday’s drive back through the hills, valleys, and riverways of Wisconsin and Iowa also kept us entertained.

As the leaves change to their reds, oranges, and yellows, thoughts turn to changing seasons. Those who reside in Iowa are fortunate to live in an area where we are treated to all four. I happen to like the times in transition from one season to the next. Though I love Autumn, my enthusiasm is dampened by the prospect of the long, dark, cold Winter ahead. I do like snow. It’s just the bitterly cold times of January and February that make Winter my least favorite time of the year.

Transitioning from Winter to Spring, well, we all know there are so many emotions, hopes, and dreams that accompany the revitalization of flora and fauna. The greens are so bright and vividly contrast the brown fields and grasslands still to be planted and sprouted. Fresh, (hopefully) moist air replaces the dry scent of winter. Pollens, though pesky for some of us, enhance the fragrance on the Spring breezes.

I like Summer! Longer days and the sun’s radiant heat bring richer shades of green, in the fields as well as the trees. Skies of azure blue show as mirrored on lakes and ponds. The heat bothers me less than the cold of Winter. Humidity typically feels better in my lungs than the dryness of Winter air. Though both extremes keep me inside at times enjoying conditioned air!

Once again to the return of Autumn. And though we know what’s coming with every change of season, each is unique in its manifestation. How vibrant will the patchwork of leaf colors be? How will moisture, or lack of it, affect plants and harvest? And if I be a bit concerned and political, how is our changing global climate affecting – everything?! I hope, for all of the earth, that we do what we can to keep the seasons, well, seasonal.

Happy leaf-watching!

P. S. Two Simon and Garfunkel songs came to mind as I began to write this post. I include them only as footnotes here because neither is particularly happy, at least by song’s end. I have enjoyed playing April, Come She Will for many years. Though I rarely play it anymore. The Leaves That Are Green tells another rather melancholy story. I will leave both to your listening and judgement.

Sailing

I can’t get this off my mind. Notably the song by Christopher Cross keeps bouncing around in my memory banks. Maybe writing about it will help.

I enjoy sailing more than most outdoor endeavors. Living on the shores of a lake many years ago I had a motor boat, a Sea-Doo, a wind surfer, and two sail boats at different times. Of them all, I most liked the sail boats.

Motor boats get you where you want to go – with minimal effort – but with noise and fossil fuels. Sailing, on the other hand, is a peaceful past time, even with the work of trimming the sails, tacking and gybing, and manning the tiller. Sailing, at least for me, was about the journey, not the getting there.

I never got onto the Sea-Doo too much. It scooted around the lake in a hurry, capable of twisting and turning in little space and time. But as a solo ride, I found it lacking for actually enjoying the lake. The motor boat was fun with people aboard and allowed us to tug skis or an innertube for the kids. The wind surfer was a rush! It was also a lot of work, made harder in that I never had a harness and thus was dependent upon only my arms to keep the mast vertical and the sail filled with wind.

Most of my memories of sailing are good ones. The mini-scow, like the one shown in this picture, was a lot of fun for solo sailing and also with two people. It was only fourteen feet long so…

It failed one day when my son and I took it out early (or maybe late, I don’t remember) in the season when it was chilly and windy. A couple hundred meters from shore we were leaning over the windward side in the heavy wind when the mast snapped sending us backwards into the chilly, choppy water in an instant. The mast caught my son in the head, fortunately without much damage done. We were both dazed, bobbing up and down with the waves, wondering what had happened. I think I remember being caught under the sail for a bit. I got a replacement mast but sold the boat to a friend shortly thereafter.

On to a wide-body day sailboat like this one only a bit smaller. I enjoyed tooling around the lake with a little more stability and comfort. It was great for two people to relax and enjoy the ride but still had enough sail, main and jib, to move across the water with relative ease.

Though I have moved recently, I still live near a large body of water and have seen sail boats in the distance when I venture to the lake. I am reminded how much I enjoyed sailing. It’s been years since I have sailed. I hope to glide quietly atop the water again some day soon. I think it will be like riding a bike, as they say. I can pick up again easily with what I knew how to do. Until then I’ll rely on fond memories and music to keep my hopes alive.

Fun with Water Fowl

I’ve shared pictures of the view from my apartment windows. Sunsets, clouds, the pond, all new and exciting. Recently, I’ve been blessed with sounds and views of what I consider special birds visiting the pond outside my windows.

Within the last two weeks I have spied the following:

Some of these have been easy to see while others I identified by sound, and later spied, with the aid of the Merlin app by CornellLab, from the Ornithology Department of Cornell University, on my phone. It’s a great tool with amazing “hearing” to identify bird species by listening to their various calls. It also allows one to identify by description, and save documentation of where and when the birds are identified. It is available at The Apple Store and Google Play. I highly recommend it.

I heard a new sound while on my balcony about a week ago and thought I eyed a couple familiar birds. I quickly pulled out the Merlin app to listen and confirm what I thought I knew. There were two Belted King Fishers flitting among the branches of the big dead tree. They seemed to be playing games, taking off and returning to different branches. What fun!

September first I thought I saw more Double-crested Cormorants, but they did not sound the same. Again, Merlin confirmed by sound what I thought I saw through my scope. A pair of Green Herons were in the same tree. This is in deed a popular perch for many different bird species.

I was able to get some pics of two of the larger birds listed above, the Great Blue Heron and the American While Pelican. I have at least mentioned both of these huge birds in prior posts. This week I want to share the view from my balcony and/or windows.

First, and most often seen, is the Great Blue Heron. These beauties never cease to amaze me, whether taking off, in flight, or landing. Their majesty enthralls me as they stand motionless near the water’s shore or slowly walk, stalking their prey of small fish and frogs. Here is a shot taken on September 3rd.

This guy has graced the pond many times, sometimes swooping into a dead tree just as dark descends. Other times I find him perching, neck tucked (as in this photo) or extended, in the morning as it hunts for its breakfast. Last week it was accompanied by two younger versions tentatively entering the water, appearing to mimic their parent.

Tuesday of this week (09/17/2024) I opened the shade just as I got out of bed, to find this beauty slowly wading along the shoreline, gobbling who knows what along the way. He made a couple tours around the pond, providing ample opportunity to see one of my favorite birds acting natural in ways I’ve never witnessed before.

  • Huge bird. Huge Wingspan.
  • The attack!
  • The capture.
  • Looks satisfied, doesn’t it?!

My former home was across the street from a pond. There were many water fowl there, the most exciting being an Osprey. Now I live in a place actually overlooking a more natural, mature pond. There are Osprey here too. But I had little expectation that I would be so entertained by the variety of birds I get to witness on a daily basis. All this in addition to turtles, ducks, and surfacing fish! I await what Autumn and Winter wonders I will see!

Vim and Vinegar

Fun With Words

Several days ago someone described my demeanor as full of vim and vinegar. Of course I laughed, knowing that the “real” saying is “vim and vigo(u)r“, meaning full of enthusiasm and energy. As you will see by clicking the link above, vim and vinegar is a malapropism. “Malapropism is when a word or phrase is used by mistake in place of a similar sounding word or phrase.”

This I found while researching the difference between “vim and vinegar”, and “vim and vigor.” In fact, “vim and vinegar” is actually the blending of two different sayings, the other being “piss and vinegar“, or “spit and vinegar” if you prefer to be less crude in your language (having fun with words yet?). Of course, looking at the various definitions, it is clear that there is little distinction between all three iterations. Thus minimizing the validity of the malapropism attribute.

Whew! I sure am glad to have finally found some way to explain what was a laughable moment!

I’d like to expand upon the concept of “Fun With Words.” I have a lot of fun with words as I write this blog. Drafting a message, changing descriptive words to tweak the meaning to fit as closely as I can the thoughts and feelings I wish to convey. All enjoyable to me. I like word games. I also like number games. Let me expand on this.

My siblings and I have been Zoom meeting on Sundays for almost three years, beginning in the midst of COVID when travel was curtailed. It began as an alternative way to visit our aging Mother without the travel. It has become an amazing bonding experience during which we share our experiences and views on such topics as food, music, shows and movies, and politics. Our 99+ year old Mother still sits in to listen to our support and banter of each other.

As time passed, several sibs began discussing Wordle, a daily puzzle published by the New York Times in which one has to find a five-letter word in six guesses or less. I know some of you know and love it. I resisted for a long time but have now played nearly 200 days of the puzzle and enjoy trying to think like the authors. I use the same beginning word every day in hopes of finding which letters are included and which are in the right place in the secret word.

I downloaded the Wordle app, though I did not subscribe to the Times nor the games. What I found were several other enjoyable and challenging word, number, and matching games that I play on a nearly daily basis. Spelling Bee and Strands accompany Wordle as challenging word games. I’ve always enjoyed Sudokus. Times Games offers three challenge levels if you share my proclivity. I recently added “Tiles” to my daily games routine, challenging my visual matching skills. I recommend them all.

Having completed my move to central Iowa, I am left only with the arranging and rearranging of “stuff” in my apartment to work on over time. I think my vim and vigor stem from left over energy and the excitement of new experiences in a new place, meeting new people and connecting with family. I hope I can maintain my vitality for many years to come, and continue to enjoy, and have fun with words.

Magnificent Bird Adventures

Traveling back and forth between central and eastern Iowa so many times this last month (moving to and from) has provided me with ample opportunities to enjoy the magnificence of its Summer landscape, various farm crops and animals, and wildlife. Rolling on a hybrid of four-lane and two-lane highways brings me closer to nature than does the interstate system, while getting me to my destinations in a reasonable amount of time.

I was accompanied this past Tuesday by Ben, my son’s stepson, for company and assistance in packing and transporting some of my belongings. As a tall, strong thirteen-year-old, I knew he could handle laborious and heavy tasks that I either could not or did not want to tackle by myself.

A huge brown owl provided our first surprise entertainment when we had to backtrack to help out my son’s being stranded at a car rental store. It launched itself from a large tree just right of the two-lane, flying directly overhead as it crossed the road. Magnificent! I rarely see owls, even while hiking in the woods. They blend in so well and perch so still as they survey the forest floors for the many rodents that scurry through the undergrowth, brush and fallen leaves. What a sight to see with wings extended in full regale!

Having crossed over the Iowa River at Coralville Reservoir several times over the past few weeks, I was aware that this is the time of year for the late summer pelican migration. There is an Audubon outlook on the north side of the lake, on the road to East Amana, with plaques that describe these huge, majestic, white and black wetlands birds, and their migration patterns. If you are reading this and in the area, Sunday is the Annual Pelican Festival that takes place at the outlook.

On Tuesday, as Ben and I were crossing over the reservoir area, I began to describe the festival when we spotted between 50 and 100 birds at water’s edge, while some flew low and slow as they glided in for their landings. And if you have ever seen a pelican squadron soaring high above the earth, you know how they shimmer white, then disappear against an azure blue sky, only to reemerge as the entire squadron changes direction, white wings fully extended and synchronized, reflecting the light of the sun. It is truly an amazing sight in nature.

Now fully loaded with boxes and totes, we backtracked our route to central Iowa. A very routine drive is interrupted only by a five mile stretch of two-lane on a four-lane highway under construction, and the periodic threat of rain or storms that typically build out of the west.

This day was different. Not far from where Mr. Owl surprised and excited us several hours earlier, a Red Tail Hawk flew just above car level and across the road in front of us pouncing on an unsuspecting rodent in the median just to my left. If you’ve ever witnessed such an event, you know how the hawk appears to revel in its victory and upcoming tasty feast – unless it is saved for its young in a nest perched somewhere in a dead or dying tree.

Birds, and particularly birds of prey, are a highlight of any day during which I have the blessing of witnessing them soaring, hovering, and hunting. The majesty of pelicans, cranes, and herons exemplify the wonder of regal flight. The kind of flight I have only dreamed of, mastering the breezes, pondering our magnificent world below. I can hardly wait for my next magnificent bird adventure.

Life on Earth

While visiting family I find myself not only in different surroundings, but with different stimuli while on an elevated deck contemplating the universe.

My first encounters were with subtropical weather. High humidity, higher heat, the build up of rain-filled clouds during afternoons and evenings, sometimes precipitating overnight. Everything is lush and green, not unlike home, but in the hills of Georgia, tall trees are prevalent, reaching for the comforting embrace of the firmament, surrounding the houses and streets, hiding much of the sky that I normally see at home.

As I looked up between the towering foliage I saw the sky – our atmosphere – in a way that I don’t remember realizing before. Like a 60-mile thick blanket it warms us. It cools us, nourishes us, and protects us from external universal forces that would otherwise make life on earth impossible.

As the building, billowing clouds mixed with the azure sky framed in tall pine and tulip trees, I somehow understood our earthly blanket’s lifegiving significance. At the same time I felt that it, as other living beings on earth, is threatened by how humanity treats this unique, amazing phenomenon. It left me simultaneously in awe and in fear.

Returning to the deck on another afternoon, life touched me in a very different way. A dragonfly landed in a potted orange tree next to me. I was struck not only by its beauty, but also by the complexity of its body, by its wing structure, transparent and framed in blue , and the attachment to its torso. Its eyes and mouth (basically its face) conjured human-like attributes. What an amazing being. What an amazing manifestation of life on earth!

When I moved it flew, only to return in seconds to the same or nearby branch, staring at me and I at it. So I spoke to it. It seemed to nod in understanding as I expressed my appreciation of its beauty and life force. Again it flew. Again it returned. I decided to approach it directly from ahead. I extended my hand. It stayed. I touched its hair-thin black legs. It stayed until I tried to lift them in hopes of having it transfer to my finger. It flew.

Walking away to the other end of the deck I felt so in touch with life on earth. I thought, wouldn’t it be wonderful to become so aware and connected to life on this earth that, in the end, I would simply fade away into it, mixing my energy with the plants and animals, the air and the sky. Finally, I would be one with life on earth. Maybe I already am.

It’s Getting Real – Again

(Shout out to K & K who should recognize the title)

It’s Thursday as I’m writing this. I don’t think I’ll be back in here until next week. I’ll be traveling to Nebraska as this post is published. Meanwhile, my week has become increasingly more difficult as the anniversary of Pam’s death looms. I can feel it in my entire being. Low energy, mood swings, painful memories that sprout up again from their dormant past.

Early last Sunday, having woken up in the middle of the night as is typical, I realized that the hour was close to that of Pam’s passing. One week to go – two years ago. Vivid imagery, as a painful video, played in my mind. I broke into tears.

On the phone with my sister during the week, while we were discussing the ravages of Parkinson’s Disease (her husband had PD also), I walked into the living room and saw in my mind’s eye, family sitting around the room, picture albums and scrapbooks removed from storage totes, evoking painfully good memories for Pam’s siblings and offspring. Always at least one person in the next room with Pam, just being, or praying, recounting memories, or feeding her ice cubes and popsicles. Anything to try to ease her pain. The vigil.

Once again the reminders of Pam’s impactful presence in my life as I go about my daily activities, remembering what we did together or how Pam’s way of doing things has become mine. All the while visions of her, early in our time together, until the end, like a digital auto-biography of her and our life together playing on the screen of my mind as if imaged there.

After all this time I realize that the place I least want to be is the bedroom and find it the most difficult room to be in. I dislike going to bed, giving up the day. Another day without my Pamie. I sleep fine once I get there. The challenge is just getting there. Not only do I miss Pam’s companionship, it is also the place where she breathed her last. The place from which she was taken away, never to return. I cry as I write this!

Last week’s post was a testament to how far I have come in my grief journey, following through on my promise to Pam that I would be okay. But now is a time of intense reflection filled with sorrow and loss. My trip to “Pam’s” bridge on Sunday will be equally, if not more, intense. Yet I know I must go. I’ve known it since I poured her ashes into the stream running through the Bachman family farm.

I don’t plan to make it an annual ritual, but as with many expectations in life, things don’t go as planned. If so, Pam would still be with me/us and we would be enjoying our retirement years traveling, maybe even to the family farm, together. And we would go so many other marvelous places, enjoying them together. But that is not reality. This is.

Strength for a Reason, Strength for a Season

Another from the vault of future topics on which to write. This one, not a quote that I know of, conjures up many potential meanings, none of which I can directly attribute because I did not flesh them out when I added it to the list. I am, however, confident that it had something to do with my grieving process. The need to be strong. The potential that the need may have a finite time frame.

Back from two weeks and 2,400 miles away from home, I begin the process of mentally preparing for the upcoming second anniversary of Pam’s passing, two short/long years ago. I am putting possibly too much weight behind the date. As with my many backpacking trips during which I hope or expect some sort of epiphany about life, I feel the need to attribute some rite of passage to visiting the site in Nebraska where Pam’s ashes were scattered.

Could it actually be a milestone in my grief journey? Have I been strong for this season to culminate in a literal and figurative step forward in my new life without Pam? Based on past experience, I’d say no. Yet somehow I feel like it should. Like it will.

There have been plenty of milestones since May 12, 2022. First it was days, then weeks. Counting months seems to have subsided several months ago. But two years! Is this one particularly significant? In a way, I think so. Not because of a date. But because of how I feel and the way I view life at this juncture.

Being strong through the pain and sadness, clutching almost without hope to the need to play music in Pam’s honor and absence. With the incredible help of family and friends I have come far – much further than I thought possible – through my grief journey. I recognize once more who I was, who I am, and who I want to be. And though the two of us were another amazing being together, Pam never lost who she was, nor did I.

We are no longer the same being, nor will we ever be again. Pam is gone. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Evidenced now only by a bridge to visit on the back country roads in rural Nebraska. I live on with her memory. She lives on through the memories of so many family and friends who knew and love(d) her. I/we cannot change this reality.

Is this the season of transition? Is it the season of change? Of course. There are many impactful changes taking place here and around the world. They are constant – change. I certainly feel that my life’s journey is in transition and that I am ready for change.

I suffer no delusions that transition and change are linear. My emotional ups and downs confirm that change and seasons are cyclical or, as some say about the grief process, a spiral, moving up and around through time. We all live with them. I choose to accept them.

So on I go, embracing each day, remembering yet not living in the past, not afraid of what the future holds. I am thankful for this outlook and hope to continue being strong for good reasons, strong for any season.

May you all find strength and peace amidst life’s changes and seasons.

What can I say?

It’s late Friday night and I’ve just started this post for Saturday noon release. I’m sitting in a motel room, 100 miles from home, trying to put something together worth your valuable time to read. Not sure I can.

This brief overnighter to visit family is the first of several travels planned over the spring and summer months. More trips to see family, an anniversary trip to Nebraska, and one to celebrate a milestone birthday. Likely more on all that later.

The week went by so quickly! Between appointments, household chores, and much more time playing music, it just seems to have slipped away without enough attention to my faithful readership. Unfortunately, with my upcoming travel schedule, I worry about publishing on a consistent schedule. On the other hand, I hope gather more read-worthy material to write about.

Either way, I’ll do my best to consistently post on Saturdays. For now, I hope you had a quality week and have an even better one to come. After all, wut else javia to do? 😉