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Posts Tagged ‘postaday2011’

Great Salt Lake Nature Center Gifted by Mother Nature

Posted in Birds, Favorite Hikes, Nature, Travel, tagged , , , , , , , , , on March 22, 2011| 3 Comments »

Canada Geese at the Great Salt Lake Nature Center -- Photo by Pat Bean

 “Poets who know no better rhapsodize about the peace of nature, but a well-populated marsh is a cacophony.” — Bern Keating

Looking across Farmington Bay at the Wasatch Mountains. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Favorite Hikes:

 One of my favorite hikes when I lived in Northern Utah was a gentle trek on a circular boardwalk found at the Great Salt Lake Nature Center. http://tinyurl.com/45jykl6

Located in the Farmington Bay Waterfowl Management Area just north of Salt Lake City, the mile and a half circular trail provides excellent views of wetlands wildlife.

 It was a trail I hiked early on weekend mornings, or in the early evenings after getting off from work. Whatever the time, however, my walk always began with a chorus of marsh wrens that was soon joined by a background of croaky frog chirps.

Hike slowly and look closely so you don't miss such things as the yellow-headed blackbird hiding in the rushes. -- Photo by Pat Bean

And there always surprises, like coming around a corner of cattail or bulrush to see coots or pied-billed grebes floating in a small bit of open water. Or climbing to the top the 30-foot observation tower to see avocets and northern shovelers off in the distance, and song sparrows and red-winged blackbirds flitting around below.

On a couple of occasions I even saw red foxes, including a den of young ones. And I almost always saw northern harriers and kestrels circling overhead. In the winter, bald eagles were a frequent sight, as were tundra swans in the spring.

Once a flock of graceful sandhill cranes flew close overhead, their rattling trumpet call echoing through the air. It was an experience that stirred my soul and made me grateful just to be alive. If you’re ever in the area, it’s a hike not to miss.

Just be sure and take some mosquito repellent with you. Mother Nature is kind, but not always considerate.

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Armed Guard Walk to Top of Ngorongoro Crater

Posted in Favorite Hikes, Nature, Travel, tagged , , , , , on March 20, 2011| 5 Comments »

 
 

Inside the Ngorongoro Crater -- Photo by William Warby

 “I dream of hiking into my old age.” — Marlyn Doan

Favorite Hikes:

The two weeks I spent in Tanzania and Kenya in 2007 were mostly spent in a Land Rover, bouncing across the landscape in search of exotic animals and birds, or at a guarded or fenced lodge where the wild animals were kept at bay.

Walking through the bush, at least on the tour my friend Kim and I took, was strictly forbidden. Since we spent a lot of time looking at lions, leopards, cheetahs, cape buffalo and elephants, we didn’t complain too much.

 One hike, however, was included in our itinerary. A hike to the top of a ridge in the Gnorongoro Crater. The 100-square-mile depression was formed a couple of million years ago when a giant volcano exploded and collapsed. It’s in this crater, in Oldupai Gorge, where the oldest human fossils have been found. The crater is also the location used for the first monolith in “2001: A Space Odyssey.”

This cape buffalo dude looks like he has the same "I'm-bad-tail-up-strut-attitude of my dog, Maggie, after she's growled at a dog six times her size. Photo by Pat Bean

Our native guide, Bilal, who drove us two single ladies through Tanzania for a week, tried to dissuade us from going on the hike. He said African buffalos, responsible for over 200 deaths annually, were in the area.

But at our insistence, he released us into the care of an armed guide for the trek up to the ridge top. Bilal was allowed nothing more than a large stick as protection from animals in the national parks we visited and also was required to stay with his vehicle.

The hike started out with us swishing through long grass that had me worrying more about snakes than wild buffalo. It soon gave, however, to a steep forested landscape. I remember some thick-trunk large trees as we neared the top of the ridge, where we had an aerial view of the Olmorti Crater below.

It felt really good to be hiking.  The trek, except for the dramatic African landscape we walked through, was quite uneventful. We didn’t catch sight of a buffalo until we were safely back in the Land Rover with Bilal, who visible breathed a sign of relief once we were back under his care.

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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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One Day and 21 Centerpieces to Go

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , on March 17, 2011| 5 Comments »

Just for Today

One day, 21 centerpieces for a renaissance wedding with a butterfly theme. -- Photo (and centerpieces) by Pat Bean

 “Don’t Despair. But if you do, work on in despair”

I don’t know who the author of the above quote is. I saw it on a blackboard many years ago. The words struck a chord that resonated with me way back then – and quite a few times since.  I’m a person who works through bad times.

 While today was far from being a bad time in my life, it was one in which despair of getting something done within a restricted time frame could have grabbed my attitude.  Thankfully, I remembered that old quote that has seen me through many a difficult day.

 Just two days before my grandson’s wedding, I took on the task of creating 21 table centerpieces. Yesterday I scrounged the craft departments at Big Lots and Wal-Mart and then went and had dinner and margaritas with my grand-daughter.

 I then went to bed and designed centerpieces while I slept.

With the need to get those centerpieces all done today hanging over my head, I sacrificed my morning writing time when I woke up and went to work.

The good new is that I finished all 21 centerpieces. The bad news is what I’ve written here is all the blog you’re going to get today.

 Have a good evening everybody.

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Favorite Hikes: Surfside/Quintana Jetties

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , , on March 16, 2011| 5 Comments »

The Quintana Jetty lets me hike out into the ocean. -- Photo by Pat Bean

“We ourselves feel that what we are doing is just a drop in the ocean. But the ocean would be less because of that missing drop.” Mother Teresa

Travels With Maggie

I made many trips to Surfside Beach when I lived in Lake Jackson, Texas, many years ago. Getting there meant crossing a tall bridge over the Intracoastal Waterway, which stretches for 3,000 miles along the Atlantic and Gulf coasts.

Fewer trips were made to Bryan Beach, which is separated from Surfside by a mere 500-foot wide channel that provides access to the waterway and also to the port in Freeport, which calls itself the Shrimp Capital of the World.

In the past, getting to Bryan Beach meant crossing a drawbridge that was raised to allow boats to pass. Water vessels had the right of way, so it often took awhile to make it across.

Access today is provided by a tall duplicate of the Surfside Bridge. And since Bryan Beach is also now also home to the Quintanta Neotropical Bird Sanctuary, it’s the island beach of choice for me these days.

A ruddy turnstone sits on the rocks that line the Quintana Jetty. -- Photo by Pat Bean

A trip to either beach, however, calls for a walk on the jetties that line the shipping channel. Both stretch over half a mile out into the ocean. And while they might not be what one thinks of as a typical hiking trail, that’s how I consider them.

A walk on these narrow cement paths can mean a drenching, especially on a day when the waves are behaving rambunctiously. But the views are worth it.

I love to watch as the sea continually rolls into the shore, creating azure and white patterns of light and shadow that can be hypnotizing. If I’m lucky, I’ll see a string of brown pelicans winging by just above the water’s surface, or a cormorant dive beneath the surface and come up with a fish in its mouth. And I’ve never failed to spot sandpipers hanging out on the rocks beside the jetties.

Passing shrimp boats and dolphins are not rare either.

If there’s time, I add a bit more distance to my hike by strolling down the beach for a while in company of gulls, skimmers, plovers and sandpipers. Since I have a son who lives in the area, it’s a hike I get to take several times a year.

Life is good.

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The Silver Zephyr That Etched Itself Into My Memories

Posted in Journeys, Travel, tagged , , , , , , , , on March 15, 2011| 8 Comments »

The Texas Zephyr, left, and the Sam Houston Zephyr in Dallas in 1955. Photo from Portal to Texas History

 “Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows, while proudly rising o’er the azure realm in gallant trim the gilded vessel goes. Youth on the prow, and pleasure at the helm.” Thomas Gray

Journeys

Zephyr is a wind from the west. It was also a train that blew past my grandmother’s home every day around noon.

I recalled it yesterday when I wrote about picking blackberries in an empty field on the outskirts of Dallas. Seems my journey into the past, much as my journey on the road today, is full of interesting detours.

While I never did get to ride a Zephyr, I did eventually ride on a train from Ogden, Utah, to Las Vegas through the Virgin River Gorge. Shown above is the Virgin River in Zion National Park before it enters the gorge. -- Photo by David Scarbrough

I always wanted to know where that silver bullet, as my grandmother called it, was going. Over half a century later, I finally know the answer – thanks to the ease of internet research.

There were more than one streamlined silver zephyrs operating out of Dallas. One, the Texas Zephyr, went between Dallas and Denver, stopping in Ogden, Utah, where I ended up living for 25 years. Ogden was a big railroad town, still is although today it’s mostly freight trains that pull through its Union Station terminal.

But it was here, some 30 years ago, that I boarded my first train – an Amtrak traveling from Ogden to Las Vegas through the awesome Virgin River Gorge between St. George, Utah, and Littlefield, Arizona. I’ve ridden a number of trains since, but I couldn’t have asked for a better initiation to riding the rails.

The second silver train operating out of Dallas, from 1936 to 1966, was the Sam Houston Zephyr that traveled back and forth daily between Fort Worth, Dallas and Houston. It was probably this train I watched for with my young impressionable eyes.

I suspect that speeding zephyr, as it roared past my grandmother’s home, might have nurtured my wanderlust as much as the travel adventure books I was addicted to reading as a child.

I was never cured of my travel-book reading addiction – and I also still get a little chill in my soul at the sound of a train whistle.

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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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