A wonderful Mary Oliver quote.
Photo: Wandering the Southwest
International Women’s Day was yesterday. To honor it last year, I made a post about my daughter. Today, I’ll honor my mother.
My mom grew up on a farm in southern Michigan. The closest “big town” was Sylvania, Ohio. As soon as she could, she left the farm and found work in Toledo. While there, she also sold War Bonds for WWII and was a “War Bond Captain.”
But this wasn’t exciting enough for her.
Storms don’t exactly sneak up on you in the Midwest. Unless you’re sleeping.
They hem and haw. Fronts drift in. Stagnate. Advance. Stall. Pick up again. Sort of unfold in slow-mo.
Certainly not like the Thunder Boomers out West.
Although we do get that occasional freight train. Those tornadic, counter-clockwise winds that sweep in so fast no one can prepare. In fact, if you witness them, it is sort of hypnotizing. Like a snake hypnotizes its prey.
For the average storm here, the wind picks up, the temperature drops, and sometimes, you can see that clearly demarcated line of clouds advancing. That gray-blue, dark-clouded front-line meeting clear, blue sky, perhaps with its wisps of white cirrus clouds. But it’s when the temperature drops that you really know it’s about to hit.
Along with that unmistakable fragrance that suddenly permeates the atmosphere.
Intro: I wrote this story back in 1993, describing some of my time on the road between 1978 and 1980. I had packed up and bugged out after a little run-in with the law.
Something sparked the memory, and I dug out a copy of the publication it appeared in at the time – “Out Your Backdoor.”
I found it fun to look back at my writing style then. Not that much different from today.
I was trying to break into freelance writing and looking for small publications that would pick up an article – payment was usually a couple copies of the newsletter, magazine, or journal, or whatever print media it might have been.
With a few minor edits, here it be . . .
I left you all at a juncture in my story “The Club 66.” So, it’s time to circle back a little. If you don’t remember, check out the last couple of paragraphs.
Disclaimer: I don’t recommend that anyone participate in such a ceremony without proper guidance, intent, and knowledge. Also, since we are all individuals, creatures with complex chemical-electrical systems, there is no way to predict how ingestion of any substance might affect someone. To either their benefit or detriment.
Nor can I offer any guidance in how to interpret such an experience. Words fall far short.
Last night, I tried posting this pic from the WP app on my phone. I had a bit of trouble but I think it did finally come through and I hope you’ve liked it.
Took this one off the back porch with a 400mm zoom lens and cropped it to enlarge it more.
The phone app doesn’t allow you to post a feature pic, and now that I’m back on the lap top, I’m making a few edits. I’ve also tried WP’s new editor with this one. Can’t say that I like it.
Have a wonderful Sunday!
A number of things were swirling in my head as I woke from my slumbers.
For one, Kirk Douglas died yesterday. And as I read off the list of his many accomplishments and movies I was reminded of the film “Lonely are the Brave.” Now I saw this film a long time ago, loved it, and when I watched it oh so many years ago, I had no idea of the connection with Edward Abbey, whose work I’ve also come to thoroughly enjoy.
It’s strange how things can circle around in our lives.
Photo: The California Tortoiseshell Butterfly – Nymphalis californica
I really do like studies. Even the ones where we think there are obvious conclusions, as if we didn’t need any documentation.
“Everybody knows that!”
But us humans do like to research. To authenticate, substantiate, certify, justify, confirm, establish, corroborate, prove, support, validate. Whatever word you want to use.
We like confirmation and quantification.
So, while I’m not overly surprised, I do find it intriguing that the research bears out that modern medicine has very little to do with our overall health – only about ten to twenty percent at best. A full eighty percent or more is determined by our relationships. At least that is what a seventy-five-year study conducted by the Harvard Medical School concluded.
I have to tell you, I’ve not been feeling well. The living situation is draining me right now so I can’t seem to get very fired up about writing. So, I thought, why not just add a pic to your photo journal today? But then I also found a reminder about a word I wanted to write about.
I couldn’t remember why I wanted to write about this word. I know it wasn’t solely from its basic definition. I had some application or twist I wanted to highlight. To play around with.
While staring at the blank screen, I either remembered or thought of a new one. 🙂
Today, you get both, the image and the word.
Photo: A Bluebell somewhere in Wyoming.