“Just living is not enough,” said the butterfly, “one must have sunshine, freedom, and a little flower.”
Hans Christian Andersen
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Tags: Quoting
It rained and thundered much of the night, and we awoke to the hush of fog. Our drive to the grassland slow and deliberate, scarcely a car length ahead visible to our eyes. But it was warm, and countless unseen larks, scaled quails, and other birds sang in praise of morning. Turtles and frogs hopped along the roadside. Cows!
Then, as if it had been one shared dream, the fog lifted. We watched this hawk (a Swainson’s, I think) and another and another and another set out for breakfast, eyes steady on the plain.
The best surprise of the grasslands was learning about the canyons, places of respite for the weary bodies of my Comanche ancestors and any other body willing to make the journey. Countless more birds, and a billion insects to our party of three, all humming and buzzing, chirping and singing.
Most noticeable was the void of human sounds. We heard not one car, nor plane, nor voice, save our own, for hours, a sensation wholly magical and awe inspiring.
Then, on our roundabout drive home, we stopped at Bent’s Old Fort, a meticulously detailed recreation of the original. How fascinating to gain a clear glimpse of life in this place, some 180 years distant.
A banana cupcake with banana frosting, part of a set made Monday. A very fine end…
Tags: Colorado
Saturday morning, sipping our coffee, I got an idea. I’d been wanting to visit the Comanche National Grassland for some time, but being in one of the most remote regions of southeastern Colorado, it isn’t exactly on the way anywhere.
So, I began to think aloud with the hubster. Why not just head there, TODAY? Sleep in the car? It might be extra cozy, but the three of us could most certainly fit. Yeah, yeah. But where exactly would we park the car to sleep? We checked the map. What’s nearby? Springfield. Hmmmm. And then Greg is on the phone with the kindly fella at the Crawford Motel. There is a room! Dog friendly. Alright, already. Let’s shower and go, go, go!
It was a glorious drive of long views, windmills and turbines, grain elevators. Clouds. Sunflowers. Every splendor of the beautifully flat half of my native state.
Springfield was quiet, and the park was within eye-shot of the motel, complete with nesting vultures, at least twenty-six tucking in for the night.
Oh, and Watson’s BBQ in Eads, well worth a stop and stretch of the legs!
I heard a story on the radio about AWE. How experiencing it on the daily creates happiness and resiliency. I thought on it, a steady stream of images flashing in my mind, of big things and small things that inspire me, and decided whomever was speaking had the right idea.
Whenever I am awash in the sensation of awe, difficulties fade into the background. I am more grounded in the present moment. This, the only one I truly have. I’m able to feel abundance rather than scarcity. And what a feeling that is!
So, right now, I am dedicating this post to it.
This boy, my cousin Scott’s oldest, whom I adore.
Joanie and the eight year-old! The three of them came down for a few days, and all manner of fun was had. At hockey camp, the zoo, the delicious I-Cool ice cream, hanging out on the back porch, sipping mojitos with mint from our own patch, dashing around on scooters and perusing the garden.
I, as a terribly literal child, didn’t catch the drift of this popular t-shirt slogan of my childhood.
Thursday morning’s garden. It rained and thundered and flashed with the brightest lightning over night, my favorite kind of storm.
Oh, and the baby birds this year, robin and finch and chickadee. The chickadees made a nest in our wee bird house again this year. Different from last because I witnessed the little ones poke their heads out, contemplating their first flight. Mostly fearful, not yet ready, save one, brazen and slightly unsteady then out and actually flying. Awe inspiring, indeed.
Today I have grown taller from walking with the trees.
Karle Wilson Baker
Tags: Quoting
