An Evening Treat

(Please click on the thumbnail to view the larger image)

Tonight was a treat. We took off for an hour and a half and wandered around down by Cub Lake, enjoying the swallows, ducks, dragonflies, horseback riders, dogs, and kids along with a wonderful sunset. Not bad for one evening. Since this is one of those areas that also warrants an early morning outing, I am delighted that it is so close to our house. In fact, we can see our house from the lake—which is actually more of a pond, but don't tell anyone here I said that.

I certainly hope you are clicking on the link for the larger images. These thumbnails on Blogspot are pretty sad.

Clocks, Calendars, and Such

(Please click on the thumbnail to view the larger image)

There is no way anyone can convince me that the recent interruption in my posts lasted only sixteen days ago. No way. I wandered in the wilderness for at least six months.

Funny, isn't it, that we think we have this time-measuring business all worked out? After all, we have accurate-to-the-millisecond watches and clocks; we have calendars and books full of information on the rotation of our planet not to mention all the amassed knowledge on the history of measuring time. Still, in spite of all that data, we understand so little about how and why we experience time in the various ways we do. (There are some experts who at least think they know something about the subject—I have read a little on the topic.) Still, that information isn't part of our everyday lives the way clocks, calendars and such are. After all, a school child understands the basics of reading a calendar and telling the time of day. And, most societies have an abundance of time-measuring devices that are understood even by the young. On the other hand, theories about the how and why that explain the elasticity of time are not part of our basic vocabulary.

Enough mulling of riddles, the point is that the three weeks seemed to be an eternity and the wilderness I wandered in was dark, thorny, and bumpy. Along the way, I seemed to be constantly collecting psychological bumps, scrapes, and bruises. Finally, I am enjoying the brightness out here and looking forward more than ever to getting my clock and my calendar all tuned up and functioning normally.

Outside My Window Bear Valley Edition

(Please click on the thumbnail to view the larger image)

I haven't been getting out and about much, except on errands, and what with all the computer confusion, I haven't been taking many photos. This view outside the back of the house never ceases to delight me. I expect I will amass quite a collection depicting this scene.

This morning we watched a coyote this side of that fence as he watched a bicyclist on the trail that follows the edge of our property—it's used mostly by horseback riders. Last week, as I did the kitchen clean-up, I watched a doe graze inches from our back patio. Periodically she looked up to see if I had moved, but she took her time cleaning the area. Betty, the hawk along with a young (we think) falcon keep the sky-view interesting, clouds or not. Then, of course there are all the other birds that dare to risk becoming hawk or falcon lunch along with the ground squirrels and moles.

Yesterday, we stepped outside the front door to check some measurements (plans for fencing pasture) and The Husband spotted, on the door jamb, a Praying Mantis that had definitely been eating his Wheaties. I have never seen one so large—his body was three-and-a-half to four inches long. He was the color of straw—perfect camouflage for all the grass this time of year. Unfortunately, this fellow had encountered a nasty spider web and was crippled. The husband caught him (it wasn't terribly difficult due to the insect's shackles), put him down on the porch, and we went to work cleaning him up. It sounds crazy, but even though he seemed quite panicked when we started, he appeared to calm as we freed him. Perhaps he had only gone into shock, but at any rate he was helpfully still. At one point, he stood as patiently as a well-trained horse waiting for the farrier to do his work—one long spindly leg up high in the air—while The Husband separated the stubborn, sticky strands of the web. Eventually, he was free and we turned him loose in the pasture to take his chances.

Overall. my world is quite different what with new vistas, more critters than ever and a completely different rhythm. This is what I have only experienced in the past as an interlude while on vacation. There are parts of my being that still struggle with the lostness. Still, I know it is only a matter of time.