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Posts Tagged ‘postaday2011’

Mother Nature’s Gift of the Seasons

Posted in Lakes, Nature, Travel, Wildflowers, tagged , , , , , , , , , , on September 4, 2011| 2 Comments »

 “Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting and autumn a mosaic of them all.” – Stanley Horowitz

Spring at Lake Walcott, when it arrived in June, brought trees laden with pink blossoms. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Travels With Maggie

Most of Lake Walcott's many trees were still leafless when Maggie and I arrived at the park in mid-May. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Fall is coming to Lake Walcott. It’s early. This Southern Idaho park was still sleepy with the last breaths of winter when I arrived here mid-May. Most of the trees were still leafless and running my heater, at least at night, was a given.

The days, however, slowly begin to warm and before soon foliage blocked my view of the lake, while dandelions dotted the park’s manicured lawns with yellow and pink blossoms colored a tree just outside my RV, Gypsy Lee.

Spring lingered for a long time here. It wasn’t until July that I had to first use my air conditioner, and even then it always went off when the sun went down. August brought with the first days when temperatures reached the 90s, but still most days the mercury’s high only hovered in the mid-80s.

Rarely was there a day that wasn’t perfect for the long walks my dog, Maggie, and I took daily through the park.

` While so many parts of the country have been experiencing record-breaking heat, Lake Walcott has had an unusually mild summer. And now, just a little more than a week before I am leaving, it’s treating me to hints of fall. Within a 120-day period I’ve experiences all four seasons.

As I looked out on the Landscape surrounding Lake Walcott, at the frosty sagebrush now grown tall, and the rabbitbrush all aglow in autumn colors, I remembered to thank Mother Nature for her gifts. -- Photo by Pat Bean

I thought on this as I looked out on a landscape yesterday of frosty sagebrush, now grown tall in this high desert, interspersed with the fall display of golden-topped rabbitbrush.

I give thanks to Mother Nature for the beauty she gifted me. I also give thanks that I have eyes and a heart capable of appreciating her gifts. May it always be so.

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Posted in Travel, tagged , , , , , on September 4, 2011| 6 Comments »

A Sleep-In Day for Maggie and Me

“A book is the only place in which you can examine a fragile thought without breaking it, or explore an explosive idea without fear it will go off in your face. It is one of the few havens remaining where a man’s mind can get both provocation and privacy. ~Edward P. Morgan

Books and Authors

I couldn't resist this picture of Maggie, all snuggled up and sleeping in with her Teddy Bear yesterday morning. -- Photo by Pat Bean

It was only 42 degrees when I woke up yesterday morning. I snuggled down into my covers, reluctant to start the day with the sunrise as is my usual mode of operation. Instead I reached for my Kindle. I had read Earlene Fowler’s “Spider Web” after getting into bed, before reluctantly putting it down to get some sleep.

But this morning, since I wanted to stay snuggled up, I begin listing to my audible copy of “The Help” by Kathryn Stockett.. I had a hard time putting it down to finally get up and fix coffee about 10 a.m. Reading is bed is my idea of sleeping in on a cold morning.

By the time I got up, the day had warmed to 70 degrees. Maggie, however, who is the true late riser, was still snuggled up on the couch with her Teddy Bear by her side and the quilt I had thrown over her. I couldn’t resist a picture of her.

A good read

I also couldn’t resist continuing to listen to “The Help,” and did little else yesterday except that. I think I needed a down day – and I’m glad I took it. . I finished the book today when I was working in the entrance kiosk here at Lake Walcott State Park.

The book takes place in the early 1960s in Jackson, Mississippi, a time when a lot of history was being made, most of it not good at all. The book took me back to those days as it followed the clandestine activities of a young white women and two older black maids. I highly recommend the book, which I understand was recently made into a movie.

Think about taking a down day to read it. .And then let me know if you had as much trouble putting it down until it was finished as I did.

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Weekly Photo Challenge: Up

Posted in Weekly Photo Challenge, tagged , , , on September 2, 2011| 2 Comments »

Weeds grown UP tall over the summer. -- Photo by Pat Bean

 “A weed is no more than a flower in disguise, Which is seen through at once, if love give a man eyes. ”  — James Russsell Lowe

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A Journey to Come, and One Remembered

Posted in Travel, tagged , , , , , , , , , on September 1, 2011| 2 Comments »

 “A journey is a person in itself; no two are alike. And all plans, safeguards, policing, and coercion are fruitless. We find that after years of struggle that we do not take a trip; a trip takes us.” – John Steinbeck

 

The 121-mile trip from Fairbanks to Denali National Park, followed by an 85-mile bus drive on the Park Road in view of Mt. McKinley is considered a classic road trip by "TravelBudget" magazine. -- Photo by Nic McPhee/Wikipedia

Travels With Maggie

 
I’ve been pouring over maps this past week, in anticipation of getting back on the road after spending the summer as a campground host here at Lake Walcott in Southern Idaho. It’s been a great summer, surrounded by Mother Nature’s gifts and away from this year’s awful Texas heat, where Maggie and I spend our winters.

But the wanderlust in my soul will ease the pain of leaving this serene setting.
The route I’ve planned for my dawdling 3,200-mile return trip will take me to Oregon to meet a new friend and to learn about self-publishing. From there I’ll travel down through Nevada and into California and Yosemite National Park, where I’ve never been.

 
Avoiding interstates as much as possible, I’ll then wind my way to Tucson, Arizona, to spend a week with my youngest daughter, and to sneak in some birdwatching. All too soon, however, I will have to be on the road again, traveling into New Mexico before dropping down to the Texas Gulf Coast so as to arrive there in time for a grandson’s wedding.

It’s an ambitious trip, requiring me to average 300 miles on the road during traveling days, which is twice as far as I prefer. It will take almost $1,000 to keep my RV, Gypsy Lee, fed during the journey, requiring me to sit somewhere for two months to balance the budget, maybe even three given how the cost of everything, not just gas, seems to be on the rise.

 
One of the hot topics of travel articles this summer has been places to visit on one tank of gas. For example, the most recent issue of “BudgetTravel” magazine features an article entitled “One Tank Escapes for 7 Cities.” That kind of thinking meant we had many area Idahoans vacationing at the park this year instead of going elsewhere.

 

Mt. McKinley from the Wonder Lake viewpoint. What a magnificent road trip it was to get here.

But this same issue of the magazine includes a piece on “5 Classic American Drives” that would take travelers far afield.

 
One of these was the 121-mile drive from Fairbanks, Alaska, to Denali National Park, where one catches a bus ($43) to drive another 85 miles to Wonder Lake. You’ve probably seen the lake many times. It’s a photographers favorite as it reflects Mt. McKinley when circumstances are right

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I made this drive back in 1999. Circumstances weren’t right. McKinley gave us only a very quick view during our day-long bus trip. It took twice as long as usual as our bus broke down twice and finally had to be replaced halfway through our journey, which required us to wait a good long while before continuing on the journey.

Since a sack lunch was all I had taken with me, I was quite famished when we got back to the park headquarters, but all the grizzlies, foxes, birds (my favorite was a gyrfalcon) made the trip well worth it and one I would repeat in a heartbeat given the opportunity.

While I did get pictures of McKinley and Wonder Lake with the mountain’s reflection, they were not very good shots. Certainly not as good as the one of the road and mountain accompanying the “TravelBudget” article. This photo I noted was actually one from Wikipedia, which means I can share it with you, along with another free-use one of the mountain reflected in Wonder Lake.

Now we can all dream about upcoming road trips together.

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Yellow: The Color of Joy and Sunshine

Posted in Travel, Wildflowers, tagged , , , , , , , , on August 31, 2011| 5 Comments »

“She was wearing a canary-yellow two-piece bathing suit, one piece of which she would not actually be needing for another nine or ten years.” – J.D. Salinger

Joy with yellow petals -- Photo by Pat Bean

Travels With Maggie

I think Mother Nature must love the color yellow as much as I do.

From the dandelions that she sprinkles on lawns to the consternation of gardeners, to the unbridled joy of enthusiastic sunflowers that linger long after the bloom of other wildflowers have faded away, these exclamations of color delight my soul.

I’m not alone in my joy.

Wrote Johan Wolfange Goethe about the yellow “It is the color closest to light. In its utmost purity it always implies the nature of brightness and has a cheerful, serene, gently stimulating character.

yellow cactus bloom at Pancho Villa State Park in New Mexico -- Photo by Pat Bean “How wonderful yellow is. It stands for the sun,” said Vincent Van Gogh, one of my favorite artists.

Pablo Picasso also had an opinion about yellow and the sun: “There are painters who transform the sun into a yellow spot, but there are others who, thanks to their art and intelligence, transform a yellow spot into the sun.”

“I made a circle with a smile for a mouth on yellow paper, because it was sunshiny and bright,” said Harvey Ball, who is credited with being creator of the Smiley face. .

Don't forget to smile today.

“I really just want to be warm yellow light that pours over everyone I love.” said musician Conor Oberst.

Curious George followed the man with the yellow hat home from Africa, Dorothy followed the yellow brick road, the Beatles fancied a yellow submarine, we ride in yellow taxis, and look up information in the yellow pages.

And yellow always stops my camera in its tracks.

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Son of a Portugal Sailor Makes Texas History

Posted in Travel, tagged , , , , , , , , , on August 30, 2011| 11 Comments »

“If you look deeply into the palm of your hand, you will see your parents, and all generations of your ancestors. All of them ae alive in this moment. Each is present in your body. You are the continuation of each of these people.” – Thich Nhat Hanh

Travels With Maggie

Antonio Joseph was born in 1789 in Lisbon, Portugal. He was my great-great-great-grandfather. Most likely he was an illegal alien, having jumped ship, on which he was a cook, in Connecticut in 1822, shortly thereafter marrying Annis Rogers. At some point, Annis left Antonio, and she and their son, Thomas Miller Joseph, moved to Texas.

I’m sure there’s a juicy story about the family breakup, but of course there are no records so all I can do is use my writer’s imagination. I do know, according to records traced down by my son, that Antonio stayed behind in Connecticut, where he worked as a cook for an insane asylum, and that he died in Hartford in 1868.

This historical marker in Galveston does not mark the grave of my great-great-grandfather, Thomas Miller Joseph. His grave, like many others, was relocated somewhere during hurricanes that hit Galveston Island. -- Photo by Karen Bean

Young Thomas, meanwhile, became a prominent lawyer in Galveston, served the city as its mayor for five consecutive terms, was a chief justice, a Democratic leader and both a Texas State representative and senator. In other words, my great-great grandfather, the son of a sea cook, was important enough to have made it into Texas history books and to be honored by a historical marker.

One of his, and Mary Trueheart’s eight children, was Lucian Minor Joseph, my great-grandfather. His only child, with Annie Rutledge, was Robert Rutledge Joseph, my grandfather, who with Iva Mae Andrews, had eight children, of which my father, Richard Wilkinson Joseph, was the seventh, according to census records.

From all that I know and can learn, the Josephs were a prominent family in Cleburne, Texas.

While Thomas Miller Joseph isn't as important in Texas history as Sam Houston, his name can still be found in Texas History Books as a prominent man in Galveston circles. This giant sculpture of Houston, if you're interested, can be found along Interstate 45 near Huntsville, Texas. -- Photo by Pat Bean

You would have thought I would have heard at least bits and pieces of this family history growing up. Not so. For some reason, I never was told, my father broke off all connections with his family, and would not talk about them at all.

Looking back now, I realize that we were the family’s poor relations . And poor we were. One of my dad;s older sisters took it upon herself to send a box of hand-me-downs to our family a couple of times a year. It came to my mother, not my father, however.

Since my unknown aunt had a daughter a couple of years older than me, the box was like Christmas, better even because what came in the box was always ever so much better than what I would get for Christmas.

An older brother of dad’s also kept in touch with the family through my mother. And I know that during a few hard times he helped out. But again I never met him.

Families are funny things. It’s love and hate, and jealousies and quarrels all mixed up together. It’s sad because when my mother died, all contact with my father’s family ceased. I never knew any of them. It’s a whole big part of my genes and history that were never a part of my life, and never will be. .

Perhaps that’s why I find this story of the son of a sea cook history so fascinating. Perhaps I even get a bit of my wanderlust from that Portuguese sailor who was born in Lisbon but ended up in America.

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A Mind Boggling Journey Into the Past

Posted in Journeys, Travel, tagged , , , , , on August 29, 2011| 6 Comments »

 “A woman is like a tea bag, you can not tell how strong she is until you put her in hot water.” – Nancy Reagan.

Travels With Maggie

Photo of my great-grandfather and my great-grandmother with my grandmother, Iva Mae, on the left, and her younger sister on the right. I never met any of these people.

I’ve been thinking a lot about my grandmother, my mother’s mother and the only grandparent I ever knew. She died when I was 11. Now, for some strange reason, all the things I don’t know about this person, the only one in my young life whom I was sure loved me, frustrates me.

The little I do know of Mamie Truesdale Lee, who died in 1950, is that she divorced her first husband, for which the Catholic Church excommunicated her, then later married my grandfather, Charles Forrest Lee, who died when I was only two years old. My mother tells me he was gentle man and that I inherited my love of travel from him, that and my middle name of Lee, which is why I dubbed my RV Gypsy Lee.

But it’s my grandmother’s spirit, the person who they say made bathtub gin during prohibition, and the tiny spitfire of a women who was my mother, Kathryn Lee Joseph, that travel with me and Maggie

The two stuffed birds I've named to remind that I come from strong women stock when Maggie and I are traveling down the road. The condor on the left is Mamie, after my grandmother, and the chickadee on the right is Kathryn after my mother. And yes, it's OK if you want to laugh at my foolishness. I have tough skin. I came by it honestly. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Both of them were strong women who survived tough times and fought the genteel images society expected of them in their days. To remind me of the female strength in my genes, I have reminders on my dashboard to help me through travel emergencies, like a blown tire, or a snowy, slick canyon road.

Laugh if you will, it’s OK. But the reminders are stuffed birds – ones with squeakers that imitate their calls. There’s a condor, purchased at Idaho’s wild Birds of Prey Sanctuary, named Mamie because my grandmother was a large imposing woman. And then there’s a stuffed Chickadee named Kathryn that I found at a Yellowstone National Park gift shop. Chickadees are tiny, but loud, and that is how I best remember my mother.

I started thinking about my grandmother a week or so ago when my son, Lewis, who lives in Texas, sent me a picture of my father’s mother and her mother, both of whom had died before I was born. He’s been researching our family history, and was all excited about the discovery.

I started this blog to tell you about these two women, but then I realized that I had nothing to say because all I know about them is what I can seduce from the photograph my son sent me. While it does stir my imagination, I find the story of the son of a Portuguese sailor who jumped ship in New England and propagated my Texas roots more fascinating.

Tune in tomorrow for that story.

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Weekly Photo Challenge: Up

Posted in Nature, Travel, Weekly Photo Challenge, tagged , , , , , , , on August 28, 2011| 4 Comments »

Looking UP to the journey’s destination

The beginning of the trail UP to the top of Angel’s Landing in Zion National Park. — Photo by Pat Bean

Up high looking down

View from the top of Angel’s Landing in Zion National Park. — Photo by Pat Bean

These photos were taken in 2007. 

“We have not wings we cannot soar; but we have feet to scale and climb, by slow degrees, by more and more, the cloudy summits of our time.” Henry Wadsworth Longfellow  
 
 

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Reality Depends on Your Point of View

Posted in Lakes, Nature, Travel, tagged , , , , , , on August 27, 2011| 1 Comment »

 “Deep in the human unconscious is a pervasive need for a logical universe that makes sense. . But the real universe is always one step beyond logic.” Frank Herbert.

Travels With Maggie

Sun and rain in the same frame. Lake Walcott State Park, August, 2011 -- Photo by Pat Bean

Going for our morning and afternoon walks here at Lake Walcott is a pleasurable experience for both Maggie and me. But for different reasons, of course.

Maggie uses her nose to follow the track of the raccoon that visited our camp site in the early hours of the morning. She slowly checks out the tree on which the male springer spaniel in the camp across the way lifted his leg. Then she spends 10 minutes circling a small area trying to decide the exact spot to do her own business.

Her entire small body wags with her tail in joy when she spies a human who looks like they might greet her. You can actually see the dejection in her body if that person passes by without snooping down to pet her.

I’ve never quite figured out why this is so important to her, because most always after about 15 seconds of a stranger’s adulation she’s pulling on the leash for me to continue our walk.

But then she probably doesn’t understand why I want to stop and watch every bird I see, photograph every butterfly buzzing around a flower or spend time each day simply staring out over the lake to gauge its mood.

I was doing just that a couple of days ago when I realized nature was presenting me with a triple matinée.

To the south, on the far side of the lake, a dark storm cloud was dumping rain on the landscape. To the north, the summer sky was bright blue with sunlight shimmering through white puffy clouds. Beneath my feet, meanwhile, the rocky shoreline was framed by a bush telling me fall had arrived.

But looking down instead of across the water, I found fall coming into bloom. -- Photo by Pat Bean

From a single spot, I was being presented with three stories, each in conflict with the other. Since I couldn’t deny reality, I had to believe them all.

Thus it is with life and people. There are many realities, and just because we believe one doesn’t mean the others aren’t true. Mother nature’s triple feature left me pondering over this for the rest of the afternoon.

It’s often what happens when I take myself into her realm.

Or listen to Bob Marley: “Life is one big road with lots of signs. So when you 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!”

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Hurricane Irene Claims My Attention

Posted in Nature, Travel, Wildflowers, tagged , , , , , , on August 26, 2011| 4 Comments »

 I think the environment should be put in the category of our national security. Defense of ourresources is just as important as defense abroad. Otherwise what is there to defend? ~Robert Redford

Travels With Maggie

It wouldn't be summer without sunflowers. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Summer has finally arrived here at Lake Walcott. Until this week, I think we’ve only had three days where the temperature got up to 90 degrees. This week, however, the mercury made it to 95.

Weather is always an easy conversation icebreaker with the strangers I meet at the park. It’s the one thing everyone living on this planet shares.

“Hot isn’t it,” a camper commented as I passed by during yesterday’s evening walk with Maggie.

“Yes,” I replied. “But I’m not complaining. I’m escaping Texas’ awful heat.”

“You’re right. It’s a perfect day. We’re from Tennessee,” he responded back. Neither one of us needed to say more.

Not only have both states been suffering from 100-degree plus temperatures – over 110 degrees at times in my native Dallas – but the high humidity in both states has upped the heat index even more. Yes, it’s been perfectly wonderful, weather-wise, here in Southern Idaho.

In the spring this tree graced us with fragrant pink blossoms. Now, in the summer, it's gifting us with apples. -- Photo by Pat Bean.

Most of my children and grandchildren live in Texas, and have not only had to endure the long hot summer, but they’ve done so mostly without rain.

“It’s almost as if we wish for a hurricane to give us some relief,” one of them said back in July.

I thought about that statement as I read this morning’s headlines, which are all about Irene. This vast hurricane is moving into eastern coastal states even as I write this blog. Headlines say there is the possibility of it affecting 65 million people if it surges into New York City late tomorrow as expected.

What with the heat, the recent earthquakes, both drought and flooding, and destructive tornadoes, I have to say that Mother Nature is getting her revenge on us for the way we’ve treated her planet. But then perhaps it’s just the planet’s normal cycle of weather tantrums that has nothing to do with its inhabitants.

I hope this planet continues to support beauty, such as the cabbage white butterfly that I couldn't resist photographing. -- Photo by Pat Bean

The answer to this issue is quite a polarized one, with everyone having their own opinions.

I, personally, think it’s a combination of factors, and that we humans certainly have to take responsibility for making things worse. And I think it’s time we started thinking about what each of us can do to treat earth more kindly.

From walking more and driving less to planting trees and not dumping hazardous waste into our waterways, from reducing our personal footprint on the land to conserving water, there are many things we can do.

So let’s start doing them.

OK! End of soap-box oration. I know better than to get started on a subject so dear to my heart. I really wanted this blog to go in the direction of simply expressing thankfulness for my wonderful summer here at Lake Walcott, and to send well wishes to those in the path of Irene.

My computer keyboard, however, had other ideas. I’m sure the writers among my readers understand what I’m saying.

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