The Swirling Garden

Near the end of my week of Arizona sun,
we stopped for lunch in Sedona
at a small shopping village.
In the midst of it was a garden,
a shop selling great swirling metal yard art.
The relative cool of the garden
and the gently swirling forest of windblown creations,
soothed my sunburned spirits,
and gave me sense of peace.

My own small vegetable garden
creates this same sense of calm
at the end of a hot day.

Even as I pour sweat, weeding,
planting, pruning and harvesting,
the green of the plants
and the cool of the earth
restore my humor.

And while I own no giant modern windmill art,
the leaves dancing in the breeze
and the hummingbirds giving one another chase
give me all the creative movement I need.

The Hard Sell Cowboy Museum

Sedona is a beautiful place.
Red rocks towering all around the town,
visible everywhere you go.

These majestic formations
have served as backdrop for countless Westerns.

After our relaxing Mexican dinner,
we walked around town,
and headed for the free Cowboy Museum.
I was looking forward to learning more
about the movies filmed in the area.

Instead, I was ready to chew red rocks
by the time we left.

The man behind the counter seemed friendly at first,
engaging us in conversation about our visit.

Then he gradually shifted from light conversation
to full tilt interview.
"What sort of work do you do?"
"Do you own a time share?"
"Why don't you own a time share?"
"Are you girls married? You here with your husbands?"

There was a lot more to it, but you get the general drift.
It seems it wasn't so much about the cowboy movies,
as it was selling the time shares.

I don't know how much of it was sales,
and how much of it was cultural.
I was raised to understand you didn't press people
for personal information.
Southern manners eventually disolved,
and I found myself walking out of the Cowboy Museum,
while the cowboy himself was still trying to engage us
in persistent and nosy conversation.

He acted offended, as if he didn't understand
how we could be so rude
as to walk out while he was still talking.

It ticked me off to be presented as the rude party,
when all I wanted was to stroll in,
look at some pictures in quiet and leave.

The End of a Long Hot Day

At the end of a long hot day
at the end of a long hot week,
there is nothing like sitting down
to a big glass of ice water and a quiet meal.

Did that tonight after two weeks of mad rush.
Been working hard...during business hours
and on into the evening.
Tonight had potatos and beans fresh from the garden,
cooked up just right.

Reminds me of a night on vacation,
after leaving the Grand Canyon,
driving through beautiful Oak Creek Canyon,
and ending up in Sedona.

I took a nap in the air conditioned hotel room,
just to try and catch my breath,
then went to a two-story Mexican restaurant
right in the middle of downtown Sedona.

Took these pictures as we sat on the balcony
in the relative cool of the evening (back in June)
and waited for the yummy food to come.

'Twas an amazing view for a restaurant.

Managable Pieces

The trick to hiking in the Grand Canyon
is remembering that the last half of the hike
you'll be going uphill.
In my local mountains,
the heart-pounding climb comes first.

The uphill can be fun.
I rested every few steps,
stopped to take in the ever changing view.
Concentrated on being there
rather than getting the hike done.

It was sunny on the way up
(as opposed to the cool rain showers
during our downward trek).
It got a little hot, but there was a small patch of shade
after every stretch of the legs.

We, like other travelers on the trail,
soon learned that shady spots
made excellent places to take pictures
and admire the general view.

I'm reminded of one of the formative stories
that has guided and shaped my life and living.
It came from a Madeleine L'Engle book.
She told of a boy who was sent by his uncle
to clear a field by hand.
When faced by the field, he felt overwhelmed,
and curled in a ball and went to sleep.
Day after day, he came to the field,
became exhausted by the thought of the work ahead,
and slept.
Finally the uncle came to check his progress.
Catching the boy in his nap, he told him,
"If each day you had cleared a space the size you slept upon,
the field would be half cleared by now."

Or to quote one of my favorite movies,
"Small steps, Ellie. Small steps."

The Spiritual Life of Squirrels, Part Two

Can a squirrel feel awe and wonder?
While most squirrels we met at the Grand Canyon
begged and chattered, stared us down
with frantic neediness and desire for human food,
we met one squirrel that was different.
While touring the rim of the canyon,
we came upon this little fellow,
sitting quietly, comtemplating the vast space before him.

He never turned away from the sight,
not even when I moved from camera angle to camera angle.
He didn't move a muscle
when snack laden tourists began to gather
to look at him looking at the canyon.

He'd found his peace.
I wondered what went through a squirrel mind
when faced with such grandeur.
While I think he was nibbling on an acorn or nut,
(even an enlightened squirrel has to eat)
he was just so peaceful on the edge of the abyss.

Too often we race through life,
when there are miracles all around.
Take a lesson from the fuzzy squirrel to stop
and take it all in.

The Spiritual Life of Squirrels, Part One

The squirrels in Arizona
are pretty...grey with speckles.
They seem to thrive most everywhere:
in the Phoenix heat,
around the red rocks of Sedona,
and all along the Grand Canyon trails.
This one volunteered to have his picture taken
...and then offered to climb my leg
to shake me down for food.
I reminded him that he is a ground squirrel,
not a shoulder squirrel.
He didn't actually make the climb
up my tall frame,
because I stomped and yelled in discouraging ways.
But he certainly thought about it.
The Grand Canyon squirrels,
for the most part,
are panhandlers and beggers.
Too many people have ignored the posted signs
and have shared their sandwiches and snacks.
Now the squirrels live to beg.
They exude a constant sense of need and want.
"Feed me feed me feed me feed me,"
say the hungry little beady eyes
as they stare intensely at you.
"Feed me feed me feed me feed me."

Always Use an Antecedent

The end of our mile and a half hike
on the Bright Angel Trail
was marked by a small restroom,
very conveniently placed.
It was here that we turned around
to head back up to the rim of the Grand Canyon.
Before we turned around, I looked at the beautiful view,
handed off my camera,
pointed vaguely toward a beautiful rock formation,
and said, "Take my picture in front of that."
After some general counting and smiling,
I took back the digital camera
and looked at the picture.
"What? That's me in front of the restroom."
"Uh huh."
"I wanted my picture in front of the rock formation."
"I thought you wanted it in front of the restroom."
"Why would I want my picture in front of a restroom?"
"Oh, I thought you wanted proof you made it
the whole mile and a half."
I pointed more specifically
and used clearer descriptions
before we took the picture again.

Big Horn Sheep Fun

So we're hiking along,
minding our own business,
when suddenly we saw
something strange
to the left of the trail.
Right below us
stood a big horn sheep.
He ignored us completely.
But my, what a tasty shrub.
You can see where
Star Wars found inspiration
for some of their
alien head decorations.

Along the Bright Angel Trail

The Reluctant Hiker

I dragged my feet the whole trip.
Reluctant to go to Arizona,
not excited about leaving home,
interested but not excited about the Grand Canyon.
Most of this quietly in my head...
but I did whine a little about the hike.
The sign described the hike as "difficult."
In NC, all hikes involve going up and going down
but a difficult hike usually involves climbing
over rocks and fording streams
and I wasn't feeling up to it.

It turns out the day at the canyon
ranks up there as one of the best days of my life
...and the hike, while we did make
a 1131 foot or 644 meter change in altitude
was a broad and easy trail
and we went only a mile and a half down
and took our time,
resting frequently on the heart pounding climb back up
and taking lots and lots of pictures all the way.

How many times have I been grateful
I didn't listen to my fear and doubt?
How many times have I absolutely cherished
a memory I almost declined to have?

Monday Again

Ah, it's Monday again.
Another weekend quickly past.
Gone to work to earn some money,
to contribute to the needs of people other then myself,
and to engage the world in general.

I'd rather stay home,
holed up,
cleaning,
reading,
playing in the yard.

I would love a month
with no place to go.

Weekends fly by too fast.
Suddenly meetings
and visits
and paperwork
and timesheets
and responsibilities
fill my time and take my energy.

But that leaves evening...
and the daily difficulty of not letting
the number of things I'd like to do
overwhelm the few hours
before I go
back to work again.

The Hermit's Rest Ice Cream View

Hermit's Rest

Loved the last tram stop westward
along the rim of the Canyon.
Hermit's Rest...a simple stone building,
another lovely view,
and an ICE CREAM stand.
What more could a hermit want?

We sat on a bench,
eating our ice cream,
looking at the late afternoon canyon,
reflecting on a day's hiking and viewing.

I'm getting ahead of myself,
in this slide show of my vacation...
skipping all the photos from the major hike of the day
and all the great shots from the tram stops...
but Hermit's Rest was on my mind today.

I've been working on my own Hermit's Rest.
Weeded the garden last night,
sat on the back steps as night fell
and watched the fireflies flicker on the lawn and up in the trees.

Today, moved everything out of the front bedroom
and ripped up carpet.
Spent this last hour pulling staples
out of the old hardwood floors underneath.
This project was started in the hall and living room
last summer, and will conclude in the room
where I now sit, typing happily on the computer.
This room will be a pain in the butt to clear,
with desk and bed and file cabinets...
but ultimately worth it to uncover hidden wood floors.

Well, time to get back to staple pulling.
Still have to mow the lawn
this evening.

First Contact

No picture or video I'd ever seen
prepared me for the experience of standing
at the south rim of the Grand Canyon.
Pictures shrink the canyon,
cutting off huge portions of the view.
Seeing it first hand takes your breath away.
Deep, wide, vast.

Garden Note

Today in the garden,
dug the last of the turnip greens
from where they sat on their big purple turnips
and cooked them up with a ham hock.

Picked peas
and shelled them
as the turnips cooked
and the Simpsons made me laugh
on television.

Served turnips
and peas
and brown rice for supper.

Love the garden.
Needing some more rain....

National Monuments

I realized as I started to upload my pictures
that the news today celebrated
President Bush signing the paperwork
to declare the northwest Hawaiian Islands
a National Monument.
This will protect an area of ocean and islands
that totals more than our National Parklands.
Very exciting.
During our week in Arizona,
we visited two National Monuments.
The first was one of our nation's first National Monuments,
which, if I remember correctly,
was signed into being
by Teddy Roosevelt himself.
Montezuma's Castle National Monument
is a simple exit off the route
from Phoenix to the Grand Canyon.
Definitely worth the stop.
Cliff dwellings...the original high rise apartments.
Nothing to do with Montezuma
other than a later historical misunderstanding.


The cliff face reminded me of Qumran,
where they discovered the Dead Sea Scrolls, back in 1947 or so.
Birds nesting in cactus...
people nesting in cliff faces.
We make our homes where we will.

Be It Ever So Prickly

Be it ever so prickly,
there's no place like home.
The birds in Arizona build their nests
in the arms of the catcus plants I avoid.
Jumping through spines, the cactus wren
builds football-like structures out of grass
(and maybe a little toilet paper).


I realized as I hiked through the giant Saguaro plants
(pronounced suh-WAH-row)
that I always saw them drawn in cartoons
with a bird hole in the middle,
based on the reality of all those woodpeckers
who build their nexts
in the bellies of the giant cacti.
Some of them have so many holes
they look like a condominium.
Disclaimer: I noticed that the Saguaro near roads and at the end of paths, like this one, have many more holes than the average, so I think the holes pictured in this little armless dude may be as much the result of human target practice as bird nesting. But you get the idea.

Wee Cool Hours

The secret to combating both
112 degree temperatures
and three hour jet lag...
just keep your usual schedule.

We got up at 4:30, which felt like 7:30,
and the temperatures were in the 80's.
Hiked the neighborhood
between 5:00 and 6:00.

Saw the beautiful colors of sunrise,
lots of animals and birds on the move,
and enjoyed being outside.
Hid in the air conditioning
as the dry air grew unbearably hot.

Chapter Two: The Human King of the Yard

There is also a human
who thinks he owns
this small walled-in kingdom in the sun.


The human, like the hummer,
hates encroachers.
Lately, there have been house finches
insisting on drinking out of the hummingbird feeder.
While the hummer guards from his tree,
the human guards from the house.
When house finches approach,
the human takes a pellet gun
and goes outside and fires warning shots
to scare the offending finches away.
No attempt is made to shoot the finches.
Just trying to get the message across,
you know.
So now the finches fly
when his hand touches the door handle.
But they return when he comes back inside.

This week the human's wife
took the birdfeeder inside
to wash it out.
A stream of water shot out of the top
as she rinsed out the sugar water.

It seems the human shot a hole
in the top of the birdfeeder.

Kindred spirits, he and his hummer.

King of the Yard

In Mesa, Arizona,
there is a walled-in back yard,
owned by a Costa Hummingbird.
He feeds at his feeder,
sits in his trees,
watches diligently for encroachers.
He chases the female hummer
out of the yard
several times an hour.

When the light catches his dark head
it flashes brilliant purple.
He's beautiful, and ever watchful.

I was amazed,
as I met this tiny despot,
how similar he was to the breed
of hummers we have in the east.

Same zoom, same watchful turning of the head,
same attitude of scarcity
and greed.