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Even at a young age, it's easy to see how eager Junior is to accomplish all those firsts.

Even at a young age, it’s easy to see how eager Junior is to accomplish all those firsts.

Weekly Photo Challenge: Fleeting

First attempt to feed himself, which I was there to see and capture in this photo. -- Photo by Pat Bean

First attempt to feed himself, which I was there to see and capture in this photo. — Photo by Pat Bean

I missed his first birthday, but isn't he cute.

I missed his first birthday, but isn’t he cute.

While I rejoiced at seeing my children grow up, taking their first step, getting out of diapers, speaking their first understandable word, feeding themselves without more food ending on the floor than in them, attending their first day of school and endless other firsts until they walked out the door to start their own independent lives, I find the way my grandchildren, and now great-grandchildren, advance in life way too fleeting.

Perhaps it’s because I don’t get to see them often.

I wish they would grow more slowly.  But I’m so glad for the digital world of pictures so I can see the progress of Junior’s fleeting moments, even if I wasn’t there to take them.

Did you ever see a cuter kid dressed up for Halloween? Junior will be four next month.

Did you ever see a cuter kid dressed up for Halloween? Junior will be four next month.

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Time Changes your Life

“Time has been transformed, and we have changed; it has advanced and set us in motion; it has unveiled its face, inspiring us with bewilderment and exhilaration.”– Khalil Gibran

And your Journals

I write these days more about nature than I do about the daily chaos of living. -- Photo by Pat Bean

I write these days more about nature than I do about the daily chaos of living. This is  a photo of Taggart Lake in Wyoming.   — Photo by Pat Bean

Henry David Thoreau once said that his journals became less personal as the years went by and he found less drama and entanglements in his life.

Reading those words gave me pause to contemplate the changes in my own journal writing. This blog actually makes up about 90 percent of my journaling these days.

In it, I talk much more about birds, nature, magical landscapes, my dog Pepper, writing and the books I’m reading – and my reactions to these topics — than I do about the personal business of living.

That’s quite the opposite of my early journal writing, when I was bogged down in raising children, trying to find love after it failed me again and again, worrying how to survive until the next paycheck, feeling that I wasn’t good enough, and worrying about children who were nowhere to be found at curfew. I probably had enough chaos in the first 50 years of my life to keep a soap opera going daily for 20 years.

And I could journal forever about the birds I see every day, like this northern cardinal. -- Photo by Pat Bean

And I could journal forever about the birds I see every day, like this northern cardinal. — Photo by Pat Bean

Some of that inner anguish, when I could face it, was written down in my journals in the expectation that no one would ever read what I was writing but me.

In total contrast, here I am today keeping a very public journal, and loving it. I won’t say that my life doesn’t still go through an occasional soap-opera installment, but time has given me plenty of experience to know life will continue on even without the drama.

            Bean’s Pat: Memory Lane at the Museum http://tinyurl.com/ljrr9eb I love the comparison of scenes. A Thomas Moran print of Shoshone Falls on the Snake River hung in my home for many years. The artist also painted  Devil’s Slide in Weber Canyon, which was located  not to far from my former Utah home.  FYI: The reason  the color of  Morning Glory Pool in Yellowstone has changed is because of human pollution especially coins thrown into the hole. The first time I saw the pool, many years ago, it was still emerald green,

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            “A flash of harmless lighting, a mist of rainbow dyes, the burnished sunbeams brightening, from flower to flower he flies.” John Banister Tabb

Bringing Joy to the Trees

A male costa hummingbird. The female lacks the bright colors, being mostly green and white. -- Pat Bean illustration.

A male costa hummingbird. The female lacks the bright colors, being mostly green and white. — Pat Bean illustration.

Since it’s warmed up here in Tucson, I’ve begun sitting at a picnic bench beneath some trees for Pepper’s afternoon outing.

Although it’s not the best time of day for birding, there are usually birds flitting in the trees surrounding me, so I bring my binoculars.

Yesterday, there was a pair of hummingbirds keeping me company while Pepper frolicked in the grass. From their general demeanor, I assumed the hummers were black-chinned, the species I’ve seen more often than any other.

Then something didn’t look quite right, and I realized I was now living in an area where more than black-chins or broadtails (Utah) or black-chins or ruby-throated (Texas except for the Rio Grande Valley) were common.

Hummingbirds, which seldom stay still, aren’t easy for me to identify. But after about 10 minutes of study,  and when one finally settled on a nearby branch facing me, I realized it was a costa hummingbird.

This was a life species for me, meaning the first time I had seen and identified this bird. I couldn’t wait to get back to my apartment and bring my list up to date. The costa hummingbird made No. 701 on the list of bird species I’ve seen.

I did a quick sketch so you can see it too. No way am I a good enough photographer to have captured this tiny bundle of energy on wings with my camera.

  Bean’s Pat: Readful Things http://tinyurl.com/lmcgc76 A review of “White Fang,” my second favorite Jack London book, which I read many, many years ago. Maybe it’s time for a reread. My favorite London Book, you ask? “Call of the Wild,” of course. A few years back I visited London’s cabin in the Yukon. The cabin is located in Dawson, where I spent the night before crossing the Yukon River on a ferry and driving the Top of the World Highway on my way to Fairbanks, Alaska. Ahhhhh! What good memories I have from that trip.

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            “When birds burp, it must taste like bugs.” – Bill Watterson

Belted kingfisher: I tried to capture the jazzy look and attitude of kingfishers in this sketch.

Belted kingfisher: I tried to capture the jazzy look and attitude of kingfishers in this sketch.

Cute and Good at Catching Fish            

If it’s a kingfisher, however, that burp will taste more like fish, especially if it lives in North America.

Although there are three species of  kingfishers –among the 30 or so that roam this planet – that call America home, the only common one is the belted kingfisher. It can be seen in all of the mainland’s 49 states.

A couple of pied kingfishers, which were among the favorite birds I saw in Africa. -- Wikipedia photo

A couple of pied kingfishers, which were among the favorite birds I saw in Africa. — Wikipedia photo

My first view of this bird took place on the Big Hole River in Montana, where I saw it sitting on a log that leaned out over the water. It was waiting for a fish to come within bill range.

I sat quietly, not too far away, until I saw the bird make a successful catch. I still remember the thrill of that moment.

I saw the second of America’s kingfishers, the ringed, at Bentsen-Rio Grande Valley State Park. This southern tip of Texas is the only place the bird can be seen in this country. The Rio Grande Valley is also habitat for the green kingfisher, which I’m still hoping one day to see. I might get lucky. The green kingfisher also comes up from Mexico to visit southeastern Arizona, which is my current home.

Meanwhile I have five more kingfishers on my life list. The collared kingfisher, which I saw on the island of Rota near Guam, and four that I saw while on safari in Africa: the pied, woodland and malachite in Kenya and the grey-headed in Tanzania. Just 23 more to go now.

And just for the record, the pied kingfisher was among my favorites of the 182 life birds I saw during my two-week visit to Africa.

The Wondering Wanderer's blog pick of the day.

The Wondering Wanderer’s blog pick of the day.

Bean’s Pat: http://tinyurl.com/mhc93p8 My favorite blogger is out of her element, but still making science fun. I particularly loved waking up this morning to the Periodic Table song.

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Seen on a back road in Arkansas. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Seen on a back road in Arkansas. — Photo by Pat Bean

            “Life is one big road with lots of signs. So when you’re riding through the ruts, don’t complicate your mind. Flee from hate, mischief and jealousy. Don’t bury your thoughts, put your vision to reality.. Wake Up and Live!” Bob Marley

Politics Spoken Here

I saw the above sign during a trip through Arkansas. It brought back to mind how me and my kids talked politics around the dinner table.

What is interesting today is that politically, I swear, my kids have all changed sides. Conservatives became liberals and liberals became conservatives.

They sort of did the same thing musically … rockers became cowboys and classicals became bluegrassers. Who would have known?

As for me and political discussions these days, I run from them. I get way too heated and began to have terrible hot flashes.

Bean’s Pat: http://tinyurl.com/lba96jk Flowers and butterflies. Wow!

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      “Happy trails to you, until we meet again. Happy trails to you, keep smilin’ until then. Who cares about the clouds when we’re together? Just sing a song and bring the sunny weather’ .Happy trails to you, ’till we meet again. Some trails are happy ones, others are blue. It’s the way you ride the trail that counts, here’s a happy one for you.”  — Dale Evans

Take a Hike

Back in my youthful 40s, I did a couple of 10-miile hikes  in Kauai's Waimea Canyon, aka Hawaii's Grand Canyon. -- Wikipedia Photo

Back in my youthful 40s, I did a couple of 10-miile hikes in Kauai’s Waimea Canyon, aka Hawaii’s Grand Canyon. — Wikipedia Photo

I got to sing the above lyrics last week when I attended the promotion celebration of two of  my Tucson Elementary grandsons at Coyote Elementary. It’s their school song.

I can’t hear it without an image of my childhood hero, Roy Rogers, popping into my brain. It was his theme song.

It’s also an appropriate song to sing today because of it being National Trails Day, an event that takes place annually on the first Saturday of June. This year all 50 states have planned events to celebrate it.

I did my own celebrating this morning as I took a longer-than-usual easy walk with Pepper in sight of Arizona’s Catalina Mountains. As I walked, still babying my ankle that I broke earlier this year, I thought back to when I was capable of hiking 20 miles in a day.

This morning I took delight in a blooming ocotillo, which until it flowers looks like little more than a bunch of sticks stuck together in the ground. -- Photo by Pat Bean

This morning I took delight in a blooming ocotillo, which until it flowers looks like little more than a bunch of sticks stuck together in the ground. — Photo by Pat Bean

I only did that long a hike a few times, much preferring to do a more enjoyable 10 miles, which eventually dropped to five miles as time caught up with my body. The truth, however, is that the slower my steps became the more enjoyment came with each of them.

I had time to marvel at the ladybug on the underside of a leaf, to watch the tadpoles swimming in a pool of water in a shallow brook and to take time to photograph a flitting butterfly.

So, Happy Trails to everyone, whether they be short or long, or easy or hard. It’s all good.

The Wondering Wanderer's blog pick of the day.

The Wondering Wanderer’s blog pick of the day.

Bean’s Pat: Tinkers Creek http://tinyurl.com/jw4jquu This would certainly be on my places to hike list if I lived anywhere near its Ohio location.

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“Tiger got to hunt, bird got to fly, Man got to sit and wonder ‘why, why, why?’ Tiger got to sleep, bird got to land. Man got to tell himself he understand.” – Kurt Vonnegut, “Cat’s Cradle

 

Western tanager -- Wikipedia photo

Western tanager — Wikipedia photo

 

I Think I saw a Pretty Bird

            I spent most of my life totally unaware of the birds that live around us. Then I caught the bird-watching virus.

Sage Grouse: The bird that addicted me to bird watching. -- Wikipedia photo

Sage Grouse: The bird that addicted me to bird watching. — Wikipedia photo

It happened in 1999 when I was doing a newspaper story on sage grouse at Deseret Ranch in Utah. It required me to wake at an ungodly hour — even for me an early riser — and then hike a mile or so across the landscape to a sit behind a blind so I could watch male grouse show off for the gals at a lek.

“It is sort of like when the guys drag Main Street on Saturday night,” birding guide Mark Stackhouse told me.

I found the strutting, puffed out males, an awesome sight – and laughed at how most of the girls ignored the boys. From that day forward I was hooked, and these days my binoculars are usually close by.

So it was this afternoon, as I sat at tree-top level on the balcony of my third-floor apartment talking on the phone to my daughter-in-law in Texas, when a bright colored bird flew in and sat on a branch not too far away.

“OHhhhhh. A pretty bird,” I screeched into my daughter-in-law’s ear, and grabbed for by binoculars..

It was a western tanager, the first I’ve seen here at my Catalina foothills apartment. I usually see them in a more forested setting, but there are a lot of trees here, and a fountain in one of the courtyards where the birds can drink.

It’s a beautiful bird, don’t you agree?

The Wondering Wanderer's blog pick of the day.

The Wondering Wanderer’s blog pick of the day.

Bean’s Pat: Cantankerous Puffs of Adorable http://tinyurl.com/l7sphvv Juvenile green herons

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            Sunrise, sunset. Swiftly flow the days. Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers. Blossoming even as they gaze. Sunrise, sunset. Swiftly fly the years. One season following another, laden with happiness and tears. – Lyrics by Sheldon Harnick and music by Jerry Bock, from “Fiddler on the roof.

Where in Timbuktu Did May Disappear?

I looked at the calendar this month and saw that the end of the month was only a few days away.

I didn’t realize I had seen that many sunrises and sunsets. I’m not always successful but I try to catch them both.

One means the start of a new day

Pink and purple to start the day. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Pink and purple to start the day. — Photo by Pat Bean

 

and the other means I survived whatever the day brought my way.

And orange and gold to end it. -- Photo by Pat Bean.

… and orange and gold to end it. — Photo by Pat Bean.

 

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         ” May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome dangerous, leading to the most amazing view. May your mountains rise into and above the clouds.” — Edward Abbey

The view through Mesa Arch shows off a rich, red-rock background. -- Photo by Pat Bean

The view through Mesa Arch shows off a rich, red-rock background. — Photo by Pat Bean

Weekly Photo Challenge: In the Background

I always find Canyonlands National Park, located in Southern Utah where four other awesome national parks vie for attention, surprising. One visit it is the deep blue, cloud-dotted sky above a red-rock landscape that captures my awe. On another visit, it is the emerald green of the Colorado or Green rivers off in the distance as seen from a high viewpoint. The confluence of the two rivers takes place within the park.

A more distant view of the arch shows off the La Salle Mountains in the Background. -- Photo by Pat Bean

A more distant view of the arch shows off the La Salle Mountains in the Background. — Photo by Pat Bean

I’ve visited Canyonlands’ Island in the Sky section many times, as it is located on the shortest route from Utah to Texas, the one I took many times when I worked and lived in Utah and visited family members in Texas.

This week’s photo challenge gave me an opportunity to show off its Mesa Arch, perhaps one of the most photographed scenic sites in North America. Reached by an easy half-mile round-trip hike  just off the park’s main road, I never visited the park without walking out to see it.

And then there is always the emerald green of the river in the background as seen from one of the park's many viewpoints. -- Photo by Pat Bean

And then there is always the emerald green of the river in the background as seen from one of the park’s many viewpoints. — Photo by Pat Bean

The season, time of day and weather made each viewing a one-of-a-kind experience, not to mention the varying wildflowers and dry or wet potholes scattered along the hike that gave a different mood to the trail.

Bean’s Pat: The Road Ahead http://tinyurl.com/p6jzvvu This blog describes perfectly how I feel the first day of a road trip. I see more, write more in my journal and am awed more by the landscape than any other day on a trip. But of course that’s not to say I don’t also enjoy all my traveling days.

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    “Personality is the glitter that sends our little gleam across the footlights and the orchestra pit into that big black space where the audience is.” – Mae West

Reclaiming Art on Loan 

Bibba Bear, the survivor.

Bibba Bear, the survivor.

One of the things I told myself when I got rid of all my furnishings was that when I got off the road and grew roots again was that I would be able to decorate from scratch.

What fun that would be, I thought.

While I’ve been pleased with the few pieces of furniture I bought in January, including a bright red couch that I thought fit my sassy old broad personality, I started thinking everything looked pretty sterile. And that’s not me. While I tend to stay on the sparse side in furniture, my walls were always a mass of eclectic color.

I got just a little bit of this back this past week when two of my favorite art pieces, which I had loaned instead of giving away, came back to me.

The first is a huge photograph of a bear that I bought in Park City to celebrate my being promoted to city editor at the Standard-Examiner newspaper in Ogden, Utah. I call him Bubba Bear. He’s a grizzled old thing with scars that tell me he’s a survivor.

Self Portrait

Self Portrait

Since managing a flock of reporters is somewhat akin to herding cats, I looked at him as a role model. I hung him in a prominent position in my Utah home and looked at him every morning for inspiration to get through whatever the day threw at me.

There was no way I could give him up, so I made it perfectly clear that he was just on loan when I put him in my youngest daughter’s care.

The second piece of art was stored at my son’s house in Texas. It’s my own work, a large pencil drawing I did for a college art class. The assignment was self-portrait, and I put all the things that I felt were me into it: My desk , my favorite books, my favorite bird, my favorite movie, Angel’s Landing that I climbed every year on my birthday, the newspaper representing my journalism career, a picture in the paper of  me and my former canine companion, Peaches, who preceded both Maggie and Pepper, a Snake River Guide, with a kayak Christmas ornament atop it, and light streaming in from my window. I must have light in my homes.

The two pieces of art now hanging on my walls don’t really enhance my living room from a decorating point of view, but they’re part of me. And looking at both of them makes me feel really good.

Bean’s Pat: A Dangerous Road http://tinyurl.com/pdx3djn It reminds me of a few roads I’ve traveled, but perhaps just a little bit less scary. This is the kind of armchair travel adventure I love.

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