Tenmile Range - Small Stone - 17

 Over 30 years ago, I arrived in Breckenridge and was awed by the peaks of the Tenmile Range. 

It was love at first sight.

Imperial Peak (Peak 8) on far left looking toward Peak 5 of the Tenmile Range.
As you can see from the dark, rocky areas on the peaks, we need more snow.

The white ribbons are ski trails.

looking to the peaks

my heart finds home

small stone

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Poop Bag - Small Stone - 16

When I walk the neighborhood, I wear Yak-Trax to keep from slipping on ice. I like to walk 5 miles, but if it's windy or frigid, I do less. Lately, I've been noticing plastic bags filled with dog poop on my route. I know none of my neighbors does this. So, I wondered, is a visitor discarding the poop-filled bags? 

Yesterday morning, I happened to look out the window when a tourist was walking down the street with two large dogs off-leash. (We have a leash law in Breckenridge.)  Of course, the dogs were happily running onto every property. Finally, one squatted, and the man walked into the driveway of the house to pick up. But, here's what happened: he picked up, walked out to the road, tied the bag shut, and dropped it! I couldn't believe my eyes. Why would someone pick up and then drop the plastic bag full of poop? I made an excuse for him: surely he'll pick up the bag when he returns from the walk. But, NO! The bag remained. 

I stewed about this for a couple hours. I know, I know - it's not life or death. But, who does this to the environment and also in a residential neighborhood? Finally, I called a friend up the street who knew the rental management company for the house where the man and his group are staying. The company got back to my friend last night by e-mail. They explained to the tourists that town ordinances require dogs be leashed and waste be picked up (and taken back to wherever you're renting before discarding bag).  The people apologized, saying they love the neighborhood and would follow the dog rules. Obviously, I'm not holding my breath thinking this will happen.

Am I missing something here?  Would you pick up with a plastic bag and then discard both bag and poop in a neighborhood or on a trail? Would you allow a dog to run willy-nilly in public spaces with no way (either by voice command or leash) to control them? (Especially in places where there is a lot of roaming wildlife.)

Unfortunately, this incident has badly impacted my attempt to be non-judgemental.

Finally, here is my stone:

There are no bad dogs, only bad owners.

small stone

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Tracks - Small Stone - 15

 

snowshoe hare tracks - the hare's fur turns white in winter - a great camouflage against the snow

morning light on snow

tracks leading into the forest

heading home

small stone

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Wind - Small Stone - 14

wind buffeting through the night
screaming, growling, groaning

trees gyrating, snow blowing

frenzy

daylight shows the damage

trees in forest down

house still standing

cleanup

small stone

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New Day Dawning - Small Stone - 13

Every week or 10 days, we drive for grocery pickup.

It's the only time we leave home.

The change of scenery makes us smile.

Hello morning!

clouds dressed in pink at dawn

quietly welcoming a new day

small stone

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Rave Reviews - Small Stone - 12

my banana cake flopped - too dense and dry

but I served a piece a day to the gray jays

with rave reviews

  remember - it all depends who the critics are

small stone

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Obsidian - Small Stone - 11

 Did you ever read or hear a word and it stays in your mind? You just wish for an opportunity to use it. Well, sometimes you must make your own opportunities.

obsidian:

sunset filters through storm clouds onto an obsidian sea

Photo from 2018 - the obsidian sea at Del Mar, CA during sunset

small stone

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What We Sow, We Reap - Small Stone - 10

As a baby, a toddler, and a little boy, our oldest grandson spent a lot of time with us.

We shared our love of the outdoors with him and our respect for nature. 
 

Now, he's a big boy, a young man - he'll turn 18 next month.

He still likes spending time outdoors, learning from Nature.

He enjoys backpacking, rock climbing, biking, and skiing.

When I see photos of him balancing hundreds of feet up on a rock face, I get nervous.

I think he likes to scare his Grammy a little bit when he texts me photos of his adventures.

I warn him, "Be careful!" 

He's an excellent photographer.

I first handed him my camera when he was 5.

Now he has his own DSLR cameras and lenses.

His photos of wildlife and landscapes are amazing.

Excuse an old Grammy for bragging.

Sometimes, what we sow, we reap.

I'm proud of you Ben!

The photo was taken by one of his friends. I watermarked it because I prefer it not be reused.

Aren't the colors in the rock amazing?

small stone

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Rules - Small Stone - 9

Photography has certain "rules". "Don't shoot directly into the sun" is one of them. When using my DSLR mirrorless, I'm aware of the damage the sun can do to the sensor. I avoid shooting directly into it. The sun creates flairs, blows out highlights, and over-saturates certain colors. For these very reasons, I sometimes shoot with the iPhone when I see a scene and think the sun's glare will add to the story I want to tell. 

We are often in the forest with the rising sun. Occasionally, I let the sun and the scene speak.

may light (both inner and outer) guide you today

small stone

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sometimes rules need to be broken....

My Beating Heart - Small Stone - 8

 On January 8, 2010, I woke at 4 AM experiencing classic signs of a heart attack: radiating pain across my shoulders down my left arm into the hand, sweating, nausea, aching jaw, and a disorienting feeling of shock and doom. I was 65 at the time, and a recent physical gave me a clean bill of health. Since I had fallen on skis several times the day before and struggled to right myself, I attributed my symptoms to pulled muscles. I didn't want to believe the obvious.

I thought of myself as a strong, intelligent woman. Instead, I was a fool! I delayed going to the ER for about 10 hours. Luckily, after our son called 3 times and begged me to stop wasting time and get to the hospital, I listened. He probably saved my life.

I was taken by ambulance from Breckenridge to Denver and met the young cardiologist who performed an angiogram and saw the tear in the inner lining of the LAD artery near my heart.  The tear was like a loose shutter, flapping in time to my beating heart. The arteries have no nerve cells so there was no painful warning when the tear occurred. The body started clotting immediately around the arterial injury and in the dark of night, a clot broke loose and traveled to my heart.  The heart is a muscle, and it definitely registers pain. The cardiologist had to stent the area of the tear to lift the flap and keep it out of the way of blood flow. I was put on strong medications to thin my blood and to keep the heart from working too hard. For a year after the attack, I struggled both physically and emotionally. Finally, after months of rehab and a year of doctors carefully monitoring my heart, the cardiologist allowed me to start weaning off the drugs which were causing unwanted side effects. 

I'm now 11 years past the heart attack and counting.

On January 8 each year I celebrate my beating heart.

I'm grateful for the bonus years I was given.

I'm hoping for a few more.

The photo I'm sharing is a summer wildflower field on Peak 8 at Breckenridge Ski Area.

I love the "heart rock" in the midst of the flowers. 

Take care of yourself. Listen to your body. We all have an expiration date. 

I'm glad mine wasn't 11 years ago!

small stone

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Before and After - Small Stone - 7

 Eleven years ago on this date, I fell on my skis 3 times in deep, heavy snow in the back bowls of Breckenridge. I was 65 and felt strong and well, but I struggled quite a bit to dig out my skis, stand, and continue down the steep slope. When I finally arrived where Bob was waiting, I laughed about my falls and my struggles. We decided to continue skiing. Those falls that day would change my life. But, I wouldn't realize it until the next day. We never really know what's right around the bend in life (and that's for the best).

To be continued tomorrow....

I took this photo of Bob just a couple weeks ago. He fell on the touring skis, and I waited in the sunshine for him to take off the skis, get up, find a level spot, and put the skis on again. While waiting, I thought of that day 11 years ago.

small stone

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After a Storm - Small Stone - 6

 after a storm, trees are wrapped in cotton batting

small stone

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The Wrinklies - Small Stone - 5

Bob calls us "the Wrinklies".

From youth until encroaching old age, I used potions and lotions. This spring, during the start of the virus, I turned 76. We began a long isolation that continues to this day. Going into public is infrequent. Masks are now my fashion statement. I have several favorites, some made by friends. When outside, I wear sunglasses and a hat pulled low over my brow. I am literally incognito. In the morning, I slap on some moisturizer and call it good. No anti-aging formula, no lipstick, no concealer, wrinkles (when I'm maskless) on full display. Perhaps I've become a poster woman for Wabi-Sabi. Where has my former vanity gone? 

I wonder if it will ever return?

texture - tree bark on snow - my skin is not quite this wrinkly

small stone
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Clearing in the Forest - Small Stone - 4

There is a clearing in the dense forest near my house. In winter, pristine snow showcases towering evergreens backdropped by sky. In summer, the clearing becomes a meadow filled with wildflowers and alpine grasses. In every season, I give thanks for its ever-changing beauty.

at the edge of a clearing

in the midst of forest

an ancient evergreen

regal in bearing

standing tall

awaits

us

small stone

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Winter's Forest - Small Stone - 3

in winter's forest

seedlings, stumps, and elders gather

wind combing dried needles onto the snow

small stone

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Making Tracks - Small Stone - 2

Write your story on the clean canvas of a new year.

small stone

using negative space - iPhone 11Pro

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Goodbye and Hello - Small Stone

I started this blog in 2011 to participate in an international Small Stone writing challenge. A Small Stone is a brief, mindful observation that may take the form of poetry or journaling. Some of the blog friends I made through the years of writing Stones still use the practice to encourage daily introspection and creativity. And so for the month of January, I begin writing stones to welcome 2021. 

As is my practice, I often use a photo along with the stone.

2020

Often, in the hour before dawn, I sat quietly to meditate and to think.

Routine and habits offered safety and comfort to start the day.

Moonlight and firelight cast glows - one cold, one warm.

Fragrant steam from black tea caressed my face.

Yesterday, I said farewell to to the aging year.

2020 demanded change and adaptation. 

I didn't (and won't) malign it.

It taught me so much.

goodbye

2021

This predawn morning, I greeted the baby new year with no expectations.

I was no more or no less than I was yesterday (except another day older).

Soft darkness, flickering flames, fragrant tea were the same.

I made no specific resolutions/promises for the coming year.

I sat quietly.

I meditated.

I thought -

perhaps I thought of you....

hello

May 2021 offer a new beginning leading to personal growth.

May 2021 bring many good things.

 Barb

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Winter Solstice - the Joy of Light

We ski into the forest at dawn to welcome Winter Solstice.

Weak light shines dimly between trees.

The sun rises higher as we climb.

I'm mesmerized as light permeates and transforms darkness.

This day, this hour, this moment receive my full attention...

lighting darkness...

infusing joy.

may lightness of being guide me:

penetrate darkness

cast out shadows

and

create stillness

in my soul

Winter Solstice

December 21, 2020

Daybreak

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photos iPhone 11pro

Long Relationships, Loving Memories

It's snowing hard as daylight turns to dusk.

Tomorrow will be a good day to ski on the forest trails.

The winter forest is magical.

Sometimes, sun filters through the trees.

 And sometimes, clouds cast shadows.

Stumps become snow sculptures.

I think of my friend when I pass this stump.

One summer 15 years ago, she sat here while her husband shaved her head.

Chemo caused her hair to fall out in clumps.

Thankfully, today she is well.

Do you see Waldo smiling outside as Chief frowns inside?

My former student brought us a gift yesterday.

(She left it on our porch because we're still isolating.)

The beautiful blooming orchid contrasts with the snow outside.

Many years ago, in the early 90's, I tutored her in English.

She passed the test for her GED (high school diploma).

Then, I continued tutoring her through her associate degree at the local college.

Formerly from El Salvador, she became a Naturalized citizen.

She asked Bob to give her away in marriage.

Now her daughter is in her first year of college.

We have come full circle.

Another generation studies and works hard to attain an education.

 

As darkness falls, I count my blessings.

I'm thankful for long, loving relationships.

Good memories.

Many Good Things.

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Fall Down - Get Up

We skied through the forest this afternoon.

The sun shone, but it remained below freezing.

Our usual route is uphill for about 1 1/2 miles.

Then comes the thrill of the homeward downhill.

snowing while the sun is shining

It was hard work climbing on a packed trail, and I started sweating immediately.

I unzipped and let my hat dangle from its bungie, happy that I was wearing wicking garments. 

When we finally got to the top of our loop, we followed a lesser-used ski trail through dense forest.

I fell on that trail, my ski catching on a small, partly buried limb.

I sweated even more with the effort of standing to get my skis under me again.

Remember me rising and lowering myself to and from the bottom step without using my arms and hands? 

(I have blog friends who say they can rise from the floor to standing, but I need the step.)

This muscle memory is key to lifting myself off the ground when I fall on skis. 

Bob waited patiently but didn't help by pulling me up.

I use the poles and my muscles to leverage myself upright.

It's not a pretty sight and takes a few minutes arranging body and mind to the task.

I need to know I can do it myself for the times I'm alone on the skis.

Pattern of animal tracks from ground level.

The second time I fell was on the steeper downhill.

This time it took me longer to get the skis and myself situated properly.

I was covered in snow with it stuffed down my gloves and up my sleeves.

I may have cursed a little under my breath.

 However, I managed to rise.

Tonight, I am pleasantly tired.

Tomorrow, I may be a bit sore and stiff.

But, knowing I can still stand the skis and get up if I fall makes me thankful.

The beauty of the snowy forest as I view it both upright and from the ground is my good thing today!

Stay well.

Try to stay upright.

(But if you fall, get up....)

Barb

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