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Archive for the ‘Nature’ Category

Lake Saint George Called; I answered

Posted in Lakes, Nature, Travel, tagged , , , , , , , on March 19, 2011| 4 Comments »

 

The view of Lake Saint George in Maine from my RV window. -- Photo by Pat Bean

“A lake is the landscape’s most beautiful and expressive feature. It is earth’s eye; looking into which the beholder measures the depth of his own nature.” Henry David Thoreau

Travels With Maggie

Some days when I’m on the road, I have reservations for where I will spend the night. Other days, I give fate a chance and wing it. And then some days I have reservations and cancel them because a place calls to me before I reach my destination.

It was this third kind of day a few years back when I was on my way to Acadia National Park. My route took me through a multitude of shimmering lakes and shady green ponds, all shouting an invitation to visit in my direction.

By the time I hit Lake Saint George State Park I could stand it no more. My foot lifted off the gas pedal and my RV, Gypsy Lee, made the turn into the park. Although I hadn’t traveled far and it was still quite early in the afternoon, I didn’t object. Nor did Maggie, who was letting me know she was ready for a walk immediately.

Lake Claiborne in Alabama, where I also sat a while and simply stared at the water. -- Photo by Pat Bean

The small park only had 38 camping sites and, no hookups, but the fee for the night was only $10 and it was cool enough that I didn’t need to use the air conditioner. My vehicle’s self-contained functions – water storage, battery for lights, and propane for cooking and refrigeration – met all other needs.

Our designated site was right beside the lake, and as soon as I turned off Gypsy Lee’s ignition, the sound of water gently lapping against the shore began calming my soul.

After a short hike around the area with Maggie, I got out my lawn chair, lit a small camp fire and simply stared at the lake a bit before retrieving a book, “Death in Holy Orders” by P.D. James, which I read off and on until sunset.

The dark brought magical fireflies with it. I saw these tiny, blinking specks of living lights often when I was a kid, but rarely as an adult. Perhaps it was simply because I hadn’t taken the time to look, I thought.

Sometime after the sky was pin-pricked with stars, and a grinning moon cast silvery shadows on the trees, I turned in for the night. I was asleep almost the minute my head touched the pillow.

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When Blackberries Grew Wild Behind Grandmother’s Home

Posted in Journeys, Nature, Travel, tagged , , , , on March 14, 2011| 9 Comments »

Blackberries in various stages of ripeness -- Photo courtesy Wikipedia

 “There is a garden in every childhood, an enchanted place where colors are brighter, the air softer, and the morning more fragrant than ever again.” Elizabeth Lawrence.

 Journeys

 Growing blackberries was the hot topic of conversation yesterday morning among my circle of writing friends. The chatter took my little gray cells on a journey into the past, back to my preteen years when our family lived with my grandmother.

 She had a little house in Fruitdale, a tiny suburb on the outskirts of Dallas, where she raised rabbits, pigs and chickens and grew a large garden. We also had blackberries aplenty, but not from any garden. They grew wild in tangled bushes that covered a huge empty plot of land that stretched from the back of my grandmother’s property to the railroad tracks at least a quarter of a mile away.

 When I was about 8, I was allowed to go into that field, unsupervised, with a metal pail that I was expected to bring back full of the sweet juicy fruit. The berries came in three colors, green when they first came on the vine, red as the sun began to ripen them, and finally dark purple when they were sweet and ready to be picked and eaten.

I remember being stung once when picking blackberries. My grandmother put a mixture of cornstarch and vinegar on the ouchie. The picture of this bee polinating a blackberry bush was taken by Jonathan Cardy.

 I remember wondering – a kid thing to do but something we should never grow out of – why the berries were called black and not purple. I still don’t know the answer, just that when I returned home with my little pail, usually full, both my hands and my mouth were always stained purple.

 “Looks like you ate more than you picked,” my grandmother would say. Then she would reward my efforts with a small a bowl of the berries sprinkled with sugar and covered with the rich cream that used to float to the top of the milk bottle before fat was a bad word.

 I’ve never eaten a blackberry again that tasted so good. So this non-gardener wishes my friends the best of luck with their blackberry plants. If they taste half as good as those wild ones of my childhood they will be well-rewarded for their efforts.

Meanwhile, if any of you out there know where a wild, unguarded patch of blackberries grow, I suggest you visit it — and  be sure and take a pail along.

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Freshly Pressed! What’s That?

Posted in Favorite Hikes, Journeys, Nature, Travel, tagged , , , , , on March 12, 2011| 12 Comments »

   
 

The daily walks Maggie and I take together help us get close to the landscape. Here, Maggie's crossing a bridge over a small stream at Andrew Jackson State Park in South Carolina. -- Photo by Pat Bean

 

“Nothing is so awesomely unfamiliar as the familiar that discloses itself at the end of a journey.” Cynthia Ozick

Travels With Maggie

 Since taking up the challenge to blog daily, I’ve slowly worked my way up to getting about 100 hits a day, with perhaps half a dozen comments. So when I checked my dashboard this past Tuesday, and noted I had over 500 hits in a very short period of time, I knew something was up. But what?

On checking it out, I discovered my March 1 post on Waterfalls had made WordPress’ daily FreshlyPressed list of blogs readers might want to check out. The honor – Thank you WordPress – resulted in nearly 5,000 hits on Pat Bean’s Blog in a three-day period, quite a few new subscribers and over 100 comments and “like” hits.

I was overwhelmed. I found I couldn’t personally answer every single comment, which has been my habit, and get any writing done. Besides this blog, I’m writing a travel book about traveling across the country with my dog, Maggie. The two of us have been living and traveling down the road in a small RV now for seven years.

So this morning I’m using my blog as a way to thank all the readers out there who waved as my blog passed their way. I

Smelling the flowers and watching the butterflies, like this cloud sulphur photographed at my youngest daughter's home in Camden, Arkansas, are part of the journey. -- Photo by Pat Bean

feel the weight of your support and hope those of you who continue with me will not be disappointed.

My blog is primarily one about travel, with a big emphasis on Mother Nature’s awesome landscape.

But it’s also a blog about celebrating life, of discovering joy in little things and in seeing the world through new eyes; it’s about finding my writer’s voice; of finding ways to relate to my large family of children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren; and it’s about the special relationship I have with a spoiled black cocker spaniel that I rescued 12 years ago. .

It’s my journey, but I welcome all of you along for the ride.

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Favorite Hikes: Angel’s Landing in Zion National Park

Posted in Favorite Hikes, Journeys, Nature, Travel, tagged , , , , on March 11, 2011| 17 Comments »

“Having once decided to achieve a certain task, achieve it at all costs of tedium and distaste. The gain in self-confidence of having accomplished a tiresome labor is immense.” Thomas A. Bennett

 The first time I climbed Angel’s Landing in Zion National Park, the five-mile round-trip hike felt like little more than a walk in the park. I noted, on returning, that I had done the trip in about half the time the trail guide said to allow.

Angel's Landing as seen from near the start of the trail. -- Photo by Pat Bean

 

 My last hike to the top two years ago took quite a bit longer than allowed, but the feeling of looking out on the magnificent view of the landscape below, as always, gave me energy I needed for whatever the year ahead might bring.

Perhaps that is why I keep returning and returning, over 30 times now, to repeat this scramble to the top of this Zion Canyon landmark. Actually, one does have to scramble but only the last half mile. The first two miles of steps are taken on a steep, but non-threatening trail.

The slower pace I set these days as I go up the path – with its hairpin turns from one mountain to a second mountain with a short canyon cool-off walk in between – have allowed me to better see and enjoy Mother Nature’s bounties: Bright red Indian paintbrush growing from rock cracks, a bird’s view of the Virgin River below, color variations in the sandstone walls, and the peregrine falcons that return to nest each year near the top of the landing.

Looking down from the top of Angel's Landing. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Guide books warn that this hike is not for those who fear heights. A warning not to be taken lightly as several people have fallen to their deaths while hiking it. I find this hard to believe. I’ve never feared falling on this trail — but then I respect the cliff edges and always hold to the chains when crossing narrow junctures.

I’ve hiked to the top of this special place in scorching hot weather, in high winds, in rain, once in a snow flurry and once with a knee wrapped in support bandages. I’ve done the trip alone and with friends and once with three young granddaughters in tow.

Angel’s Landing is a part of me. I have no better words to describe it, even though I fear only readers who have their own special place will understand.

This morning, as I sit here and write with the chill of a Central Texas winter still lingering outside my RV, I hear Angel’s Landing calling me.

I’ll see you in April, I reply. And I’ll sit on top of you once again no matter how long it take me to get up there.

Journeys

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Wake Up Your Brain Cells With a Bit of Whimsy

Posted in Journeys, Nature, Travel, tagged , , , , , , on March 10, 2011| 3 Comments »

I found this basket planter in an RV park just outside Pagosa Springs, Colorado, both whimsical and a good way to recycle an old bicycle. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Travels With Maggie

 “Maybe I would become a mermaid … I would live in the swirling blue-green currents, doing exotic underwater dances for the fish, kissed by sea anemones, caressed by seaweed shawls.”

 I found the above quote by Francesca Lia Block, author of books she calls contemporary fairy tales, when I went looking for quotes with the word whimsical in it. It came up in a topic called whimsical quotes.

I think you would have to agree that it is indeed that.

Whimsy is something I look for in my travels. Things like a blue-flowered elephant, or a rock painted as a fish in a garden.

Behind each of these whimsical things, I picture their creator as a thoughtful, happy person, one who is not satisfied with the norm, a person who can laugh at themselves.

More power to them. Today’s world needs people who are not satisfied with the norm.

I couldn't resist this whimsical pirate outside a rum store in Cozumel and tagged him "New Boy Friend" in my picture files. -- Photo by Shirley Lee

Dr. Seuss said: “I like nonsense. It wakes up the brain cells … It’s a way of looking at life through the wrong end of a telescope.

Did you know that’s exactly how you can see the details in a grain of sand. You look through the wrong end of your binoculars.

Perhaps the world we live in these days would look better if previewed this way. It certainly couldn’t appear anymore wacky.

“Nonsense is so good only because common sense is so limited.” — George Santayna

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Dancing With a Blue-footed Partner

Posted in Birds, Favorite Hikes, Journeys, Nature, Travel, tagged , , , , , on March 9, 2011| 12 Comments »

Blue-footed booby. The male is on the left. Note the smaller appearing pupil. -- Photo courtesy Wikipedia

 “Work like you don’t need the money, love like your heart has never been broken, and dance like no one is watching.” — Aurora Greenway

Journeys

The large white and brown bird with the blue feet didn’t recognize my right to the hiking path. Its Galapagos Island home, where man has not yet imposed his predatory nature, let it assume it was my equal.

I stopped about a foot away and was quickly mesmerized as the two of us, human and bird, stared eye-to-eye. Since the pupils in its pale yellow eyes appeared smaller than that of the bird sitting on two eggs beside the path, I knew I was being confronted by a male booby.

Without taking its eyes from me, the booby blocking my path lifted his bright blue right foot. He gave me a quizzical look, then lifted his blue left foot and then his right foot again. Finally I lifted my tennis-shoe clad right food in reply.

A blue-footed booby, looking as if he was searching for a Dr. Seuss book in which to be a star.

 For the next couple of minutes, he and I did a Hokey Pokey. It probably was the same dance he used in courting his mate.  Our comedic interlude with music playing only in our heads might have gone on longer if it hadn’t been  interrupted by our group’s tour guide, who chaperoned us to keep the Galapagos wildlife safe.

“Don’t tease the bird,” he said when he saw me.

“I’m not,” I replied. “The booby invited me to dance with him.”

At the guide’s disbelieving frown, I moved on down the trail. When I turned back around for one last look at my dancing partner, he raised a blue foot as if saying good-bye.

Such unexpected moments are what travel is all about.

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Cool Encounter With an African Lion

Posted in Journeys, Nature, Travel, tagged , , , , , , , , on March 7, 2011| 5 Comments »

This young lion, which came close enough for me to lean over and touch if I had been so inclined -- I wasn't -- provided a tall-tale to relate to my grandchildren. -- Photo by Pat Bean

 

 

“An optimist is someone who gets treed by a lion but enjoys the scenery.” — Walter Winchell

Journeys:

My early mornings are reserved for writing, but I played hooky today to run errands with my daughter-in-law.

When I moaned to her that I didn’t have an idea for today’s blog that I was going to have to write when we returned from gadding about – That’s the downside of signing up for this blog-a-day challenge – she suggested I write about my encounter with a lion.

The story is one of the anecdotes from my African safari that I tell to impress my grandkids, whom I want to think that Nana is cool, or whatever term they use for it these days. I know such self-serving promotion smacks of Frank Lloyd Wright’s decision to choose “honest arrogance” over “hypocritical humility,” but I do it anyway.

Lions sleep the day away as tourists gawk from metal contraptions that African wildlife consider just part of the landscape -- Photo by Pat Bean

And since it’s now past time for my brain to be at its writing peak, I’ll accept the suggestion and repeat the story. Once upon a time, on an August day in 2007, I had the experience of a lifetime…

All three of the native guides who chauffeured my friend Kim and I through Tanzania and Kenya for two weeks were experts at finding wildlife. On this particular morning, our guide had spotted three lions, a mother and two almost fully grown males, headed our way.

He parked and we waited for them to pass by our Land Rover. These tourist-transporting vehicles have become so common to African wildlife that they’re merely considered an indigestible part of the landscape. And Kim and I had been assured we would be perfectly safe as long as we stayed inside the metal contraptions.

As our guide had so correctly assumed, the lions passed not far from our vehicle. That is to say two of them passed. One of the younger males took a short detour to scratch his back on the tire of our Land Rover, whose canvas tops and sides had been rolled back to give us better views.

I froze, but then couldn’t resist a single shot from the camera I had in my hand. Here I was, standing mere inches away from the king of the beasts. I wanted proof – and I got it.

How “cool” is that?

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What’s Missing Just Might Be Important

Posted in Birds, Nature, Travel, tagged , , , , , , on March 6, 2011| 7 Comments »

It's the missing part of Mount St. Helens that tells the story. -- Photo by Pat Bean

“Accuracy of observation is the equivalent of accuracy of thinking.” Wallace Stevens

 Travels With Maggie

To artists, negative space is the blankness that exists around painted objects. Such space can sometimes be the most interesting thing on a canvas. Consider Rubin’s painting of a vase that when taken away creates the image of two facing profiles.

The professor in a drawing class I once took emphasized the importance of this empty space by having us draw it instead of the solid form before us.

I’ve learned since then that missing elements can tell us as much about what we’re seeing as what’s before us.

It's the negative space that's the more important image of Rubin's vase. -- Photo courtesy Wikipedia

How can one look up at the crater on Mount St. Helen’s without understanding that part of the mountain is missing? Such a conclusion can conjure up the image of a volcano erupting and remind us of how fragile life is.

When I’m out walking and the chattering of birdsong is stilled, I know to look to the sky. There just might be a hawk flying overhead.

Hollow footprints let me know who or what has trodden a path before me.

A branch with missing leaves might tell me a moose munched as it passed by.

A New York city street where no one walks warns me I might not want to walk there either.

The missing elements of a scene remind me of a saying among communicators, like journalists: Just because you heard what I said doesn’t mean you heard what I said.

So it is that just because you’re looking at a beautiful landscape doesn’t mean the painting is complete. Look again to find what’s missing. The story before you might change

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Traveling With Just an Overnighter

Posted in Birds, Nature, Travel, Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , , , , , on March 2, 2011| 4 Comments »

Life's "no problem" when you're cruising Jamaica's Black River. -- Photo by Pat Bean

 

“Yesterday is dead, tomorrow hasn’t arrived yet. I have just one day, today, and I’m going to be happy in it.” Groucho Marx

Travels With Maggie

Lonely Planet’s lead article in this month’s newsletter (http://www.lonelyplanet.com/us) features one day itineraries for five cities: Barcelona, Toronto, London, Paris and Istanbul.

I wanted to both scream and cry at the audacity of such a notion. The thought of spending so few hours in these fabulous cities, which I’ve not yet visited, made me quite sad.

Then I thought about places I’ve visited when circumstances only allowed me a single day, like Jamaica, Guayaquil, Fairbanks, Glacier National Park and Nairobi. While each of these places deserved more than a mere day to explore, there would be some big holes left in my experiences if I had missed them.

George, the alligator that responded to the Black River boatman's summons. Honest! -- Photo by Pat Bean

In Jamaica, which I visited while on a Caribbean Christmas cruise, I spent several hours in a giggley-jiggly bus with a guide explaining the sights and Jamaica’s “no problem mon” attitude, then took a float trip down the Black River where egrets ganged up in mangrove trees and an alligator named George came at the boatman’s call. Honest.

Guayaquil was the Ecuadorian starting point for my trip to the Galapagos Islands. Here I was served chicken and watermelon for breakfast at the quaint Andaluz Hotel before taking a walk on the city’s beautiful Waterfront Parkway. That night I watched the stars come out from a rooftop restaurant that overlooked the Guayas River.

In Fairbanks, Alaska, I spent a night at a quaint bed-and-breakfast and then the better part of the next day at the fantastic University of Alaska Museum before moving on to Denali National Park .

Glacier National Park in Montana was a detour when I drove the Alaskan Highway. The main event here was simply driving the awesome and scenic 57-mile Going to the Sun Highway. The frosting on the  entrée was a grizzly bear that stopped traffic. Fortunately my halt offered a good view of this magnificent creature.

Nairobi, Kenya, was the starting point for my magnificent two-week African safari. Here I stayed in the same hotel favored by Ernest Hemingway, explored the grounds of the University of Nairobi, which was just next door, and toured the home (now a museum) of Karen Blixen, alias Isek Dineson and author of “Out of Africa.”

I guess if that’s all you have, one day is quite enough. But I sure hope that if I ever get to Lonely Planet’s big five that I have more than 24 hours to linger.

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Waterfalls: Add these 10 to your Bucket List

Posted in Favorite Hikes, Nature, Travel, tagged , , , , , , , , , , on March 1, 2011| 84 Comments »

A lofty observation tower provides a spectacular view of Niagara Falls. -- Photo by Pat Bean

What’s your favorite waterfall?

                 ____________

“Thousands of tired, nerve-shaken, over-civilized people are beginning to find out that going to the mountain is going home; that wildness is necessity; that mountain parks and reservations are useful not only as fountains of timber and irrigating rivers, but as fountains of life.” — John Muir

Travels With Maggie

 There’s a large Barnes and Noble located on Interstate 15 between Ogden and Salt Lake City. I drove by it frequently when I lived in Utah. Well, not exactly by it. Whatever vehicle I was driving, as if programmed, always took the turn leading into the bookstore’s parking lot.

Gypsy Lee, my RV, does the same thing these days for waterfalls. In fact, it will even detour many miles for a view of falling water.

OK! I admit it. I’m the vehicle programmer. The four-wheels moving my dog, Maggie, and I along only go where I tell them to go. But rarely do they pass up an opportunity to let me walk the aisles of a bookstore – Back of Beyond Books in Moab, Utah, is one of my favorites – or gaze at the tinkling splash of falling water, be it the thunderous Niagara Falls or the less noisy Firehole Falls in Yellowstone National Park.

Multnomah Falls just off Interstate 84 outside of Portland, Oregon, is one of my very favorite waterfalls. -- Photo by Kevin Kay.

While books open up the world of reality and imagination to our minds, waterfalls unfold one’s soul to magic. While logic tells us it’s simply water falling from someplace above, it appears to be so much more. I see waterfalls as Mother Nature showing off, the equivalent of a rainbow in the sky.

More importantly, a waterfall’s symphony of water pinging off rocks and into a pool below never fails to calm my spirit. You should envy me if a waterfall’s wonder doesn’t touch you in a similar way, too.

Now here’s 10 of my favorite waterfalls to add to your bucket list.

Shoshone Falls, Twin Falls, Idaho.

Multnomah Falls, Highway 84, 30 minutes from Portland, Oregon.

Yellowstone Falls, Firehole Falls and Lewis Falls, Yellowstone Falls National Park, Wyoming

Niagara Falls, New York/Canada

Gorman Falls, Colorado Bend State Park, Texas

Upper Emerald Pools’ waterfalls, Zion National Park, Utah

St. Mary’s Falls, Glacier National Park, Montana

Natural Falls, Natural Falls State Park, Oklahoma

Bridal Veil Falls, Provo Canyon, Utah

Bridal Veil Falls, Jasper National Park, Alberta, Canada

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