My Happy Place

“I know a place where no one ever goes. There’s peace and quiet, beauty and repose.”

This early morning found me down at the lake as usual. One might think I’d tire of this same walk and scenery day after day. But I never do. That is not to say, however, that I wouldn’t love to be walking in other places with other scenery. I would. I’ll be joining a hiking club soon, maybe next week. They hike locally every Tuesday and Thursday. Next Tuesday they are meeting in Mansfield (Storrs) just 10 minutes east of me, near the UConn campus. There are so many local trails, none of which I have walked. I am looking forward to new places and meeting these people, who I know must be my tribe.

So, I walked with Missy up to the “point.” The point, at this south end of the lake, juts out into the water, kind of like a peninsula but on a much smaller scale. There are coves on either side of the point. The town beach is on one side and the state boat launch just beyond it. On the other side, the cove extends much farther to the end of the lake. The point is wooded and fairly thick with Mountain Laurel bushes, which bloom in early June. Some pink, some white. The Mountain Laurel is Connecticut’s state flower. There are a few paths to choose from to walk up to the top. We’re only talking a hundred feet, if that; I mean it’s not a large area. It is well under an acre, I’d say. Not only is the point – an actual point – as it juts out into the lake, but there is also an incline to it. Probably only 20 to 25’ of elevation gain till you reach the top “point.” There is a concrete slab at the top on which is the engraving, “Bates’ Point.” I don’t know who Bates is. I suppose I should go to the library and study up on the local history of this town that I have lived in for 52 years.

I used to play up at this “point” as a child with my sibs and the neighbor kids, who were also like brothers and sisters to me – and still are. We’d busy our summer days catching frogs and salamanders and garter snakes. We’d walk along the shore from my house, there at the end of the lake, to the point. Walking along the rocky shore line – I’m talking little rocks in very shallow, ankle deep water – we’d pick through the rocks, turning them over looking for the crawfish hiding there. We’d always bring a pail of sorts to collect up all the creepy crawly things. It would take us forever to walk this very short distance around the perimeter of the cove to get to the point. There was so much to do and see along the way. And my Mom, looking out from the perch of our home set up a bit on the lake, could see us the whole time and we always stuck together as a group. We were carefree but we were safe. What a fantastic place to grow up! Sometimes we’d swim across the cove, diagonally, to the point, which was quite a long distance to swim. We’d use our life jackets as flotation – not wearing them but lying on top and swimming with them. Or, sometimes we’d have a tube or a raft of sorts. To swim directly across the cove, though, to the other side was not a long distance and would only take a few minutes.

From the top of the point, standing on the concrete slab, I surveyed the lake while Missy, off her leash now, sniffed around and ran in spurts here and there, excited I think at the freedom from her leash. There is no road to run into and no way to get lost up here. She is safe and stays close by. Missy finds the steep dirt path that leads sharply down to the water’s edge and looks back to me for approval. I tell her to go ahead and I follow her down to the rocky shore. The lake is lower now which makes it possible to walk along the edge of the shore around the entire perimeter of the point which I love to do. For now though, I sit for a minute on a larger rock and drink in the stillness. This place is my “happy place.” It is so easy to go here in my mind when I go here nearly every morning. And although I have many other “happy places,” I can’t actually get to them as readily. Those other places though, remain in my mind and I call them up into my thoughts from time to time. I comb through the smaller rocks now, looking for just the right one to skip and I skip it across the surface of the water. I watch it go, maybe 30 feet before it veers off to the right and sinks. I wish I could linger here a little longer, (“mmm I wanna linger, mmm a little longer”) but alas, it’s time to go.

I am at the very middle of the point – at the 12 o’clock mark. I walk counter clockwise now toward the beach and the park. Missy wades in the cold water not seeming to mind. Back near the beginning of the point now, I look over and see my sculling friend walking across the beach toward me – having walked from the boat launch, probably on his way to the point – with his little dog Bean. We chat a moment about nothing really, but it is always so uplifting to meet up with a member of my “congregation” – my “tribe,” a kindred spirit. I know I say this alot and it’s because I can finally put my finger on it. These people who I run into now and then (and so many out there that I haven’t met) – whether while kayaking, walking, running – well, we all have stuff in common and it’s nice to share these common threads and have this communion – this fellowship - when we meet, if only so briefly.

I suppose I need to get out more and meet more people from my tribe. I will be doing this on Tuesday with the hiking group. When I emailed the group leader to ask about the hike and tell her that I might be joining the group, she emailed me back and said, among other things, that in addition to hiking she was a “paddler,” which I took to mean a fellow kayaker. Yes, I have found my tribe.

The Fog - The Sun - The Moon - The Lake

“The fog comes on little cat feet. It sits looking over harbor and city on silent haunches and then moves on.” ~ Carl Sandburg

Today was the 4th day since setting the clocks back and I am just loving getting out an hour or so earlier for my morning walk. Monday I was out the door by 5:45, although I was aiming for 5:30, and 6:00 on Tuesday and today. It starts to get light about 30 minutes before sunrise and gets light fairly fast. Sunrise is about 6:20 now, but of course that changes by a few minutes every day. I can’t quite explain why I like being out early, but there’s just something about being up and awake and outside – getting a jump on my day I guess? No, that’s not it. It’s as if I have the whole world to myself. I love the quietness and stillness and peacefulness. This “me” time sustains me throughout my day and if I don’t have any other quiet times or solitude that day, that’s ok, because at least I had this early morning. It’s almost like I’m carrying a special secret with me all day which comes to the foreground of my thoughts now and then, whispering to me, “remember this?” as those visions from my morning walk appear as a slide show in my mind. This always makes me smile.

I know that there are a lot of people who are up early, getting ready for work and I know I am fortunate to be able to work from my home. And although 5:45 seems early now, it really is not all that unusual for anyone to be up at that point. Being up and out at 4:45 in July and August is a different story all together, I think. Nice. I felt as if I had more hours in my day than other people.

On Monday, I sat on the stonewall at the top of my driveway near the mailboxes to finish my coffee. Just as I started out from there, my neighbor appeared and so I had the pleasure of walking with my him the 7/10’s of a mile or so to the end of our street where we parted ways; he, going left up the street on his usual route and I, going into the park and continuing down to the lake there. As we approached the end of our road, you could see the moon, looking absolutely huge, as it was setting into the lake straight ahead of us. How nice to see the sun rising behind me in the east, while watching the moon setting in the west. Just stunning. And this full moon – going to bed now in the morning - was rising last night. I watched it through my kitchen sliders – stepping out momentarily onto the deck to get a clearer view. Spectacular! Big and orange on the rise, bright and white on setting. Grand entrance – big finish – a great show all around, and no charge! I wonder how many people looked at the same thing but didn’t actually see it. Too busy with the stuff of their lives, too stressed out to care, perhaps. And then I wonder how many people saw it as I did and were gazing up at it at the same time as I with a feeling of deep appreciation and awe. Those people, for whom something like this really speaks, well – those people are my tribe. And although I don’t know any of them, I know they are out there. The thought of this makes me smile.

Tuesday morning dawned clear with blue skies turning a deeper blue as the sun rose. Up top, on the road now walking northwest, more or less, I look back to the east and I see the glow of the sun’s rays – not the actual sun yet - through the trees as it nears the horizon, almost official now. Drum roll please. There it is, rising fast and washing out the orange blaze to a bright yellow. The show put on just prior to sunrise sometimes upstages the actual main event, which is the case this morning. With the leaves gone from the trees now, the contrast between the dark silhouetted trees in the foreground, with the sky on fire behind them, is quite a sight. I stand and watch for a minute.

Continuing on down the road, I am approaching the spot with the view, to the right, of the valley and hills where often times the fog lays low, thick and heavy. When I’m just about there I notice what appears to be smoke straight ahead about 3/10’s of a mile up the road. Although the road is straight and level, for all intent and purposes, there is an ever so slight incline from my mail box to the midway point down the road, about 4/10’s of a mile. Then a very slight downgrade from there to the end. You can’t notice it at all when walking it. There is no extra effort required when walking. It is only noticeable from a visual standpoint. When walking it you can see the “high” point from way back as the road dips so slightly beyond it so that anything standing at that very point – like a dog crossing the street right there – appears to be on a horizon. You can’t see the actual road beyond that point although you can still see the homes on either side. I only mention this, and try ever so inadequately to describe it, because it was a tenth of a mile or so beyond this horizon high point in the road that appeared to be where there was a heavy smoke in the road. And although I could see it some 3-4/10ths a mile ahead, I couldn’t quite make out totally what or where it was from. Could it be a downdraft from someone’s chimney? Is someone burning something in a barrel in their backyard? Is a house on fire? I can’t tell. Guess I’ll just have to wait a few minutes until I am there.

It was just at that point when I got to my view of the valley heavy with fog. I looked behind me down the road from where I walked, still clear as a bell and blue sky. There was a slight breeze and the smoke ahead seemed to be moving down the road toward me. The fog in the valley seemed to be lifting a bit and actually moving also in my direction. As I approached the halfway horizon mark I realize that the smoke ahead of me is not smoke at all. It is fog. And as I turn again to look behind me, the clear sky is fading and I am almost totally engulfed by fog that is all around me now. I have never seen the fog appear so quickly, indeed “on little cat feet,” so quiet, quick and stealth. If I were in a ship, I’d be lost at sea at this point. I look straight up and I can see the blue sky, just barely, through the fog. I know it will lift and burn away, but how strange this is. If the people in the homes ahead of me wake and look out their window through sleepy eyes, they will be deceived into thinking it is a gray overcast day. But it is not!

Well I continue on, enjoying the fog which has a beauty all its own. Down on the shore of the lake now I’m held captive by the sight. The fog is patchy and although it is thick in places it is also wispy. Houses across the shore appear and disappear in the fog. The near full moon suddenly appears through the fog, low on the lake getting ready to set. Oh, how magnificent and almost mystical, really. And, although I can't see them, I hear the voices of the Uconn Crew team that practices on the lake nearly every morning. For college students (and by that I really mean, young people, because I know it’s extra hard for them to do this early rising thing) to be up before 6AM to catch their shuttle and to be out on the lake by 6 – well you gotta know how dedicated they are. I so admire that! Here they come out of the fog, what a sight. There are three or four, 8-man scuttles out there with 2 small motor boats with their coaches, which scoot along with them calling out instructions through a bull horn. I often see them out there but it is a special treat today due to the effect the fog plays on all of this. Surreal.

As I walk back through the park toward the road I wave to the man in the Uconn shuttle bus. He is the driver who sits and reads a book, glancing up now and then at the lake, as he waits for the team to finish. It is only a 10 minute drive to the Uconn campus in Storrs. He is the same driver as last year and the year before. He is probably thinking, “Oh my god, that lady is still walking her dog down here to the lake!” He waves back and smiles.

As I continue east toward the road, I look back for one more view of the lake, the moon and the fog. The sun is bright now. I think the fog is ready to move on.

My Mother Rode Her Bike

“Adventure is worthwhile in itself.” ~ Amelia Earhart

My mother rode her bike. No not recently, but some 60 years ago when she was 16 (though, later on too.) Now, to be clear, she wasn’t my mother or anyone’s mother at age 16, although marriage and motherhood would only be a few years away for her at that point and it would be another 8 years from then until I would be born, in 1957. There were 3 sibs ahead of me and 1 after, in 1960. (Hi Holly!) My parents met at an airport of all things!

Now, some kids are given exclusive use of a car when they are 16 or even given a car, period. But, my mother rode her bike. A lot of kids had jobs after school to which they walked, took the bus or drove their car. My mother rode her bike. Now, granted, some kids had to walk everywhere and didn’t even have a bike, let alone a car. My mother lived in a large metropolitan suburb of a major city and as such, the town she grew up in itself was highly populated, probably around 40,000 people back then. It had a hospital, public transportation and was easy to get around. And, as established, my mother rode her bike.

When I was 16, I had a bike too. My first 10 speed. I remember it now as clear as if it were just yesterday, riding my bike everywhere that first summer I had it. I got it for my 16th birthday. I paid for half of it with the money I saved from babysitting and my Dad paid for the balance. It was $120.00 which was a lot of money back then. I still have the odometer which, I believe, shows 1600 miles. (I’ll have to dig it up and check it out now to be sure.) Of course, years later, my two boys had bikes too and also rode everywhere on them. There were a few times when we’d all be camping together – my husband and our boys in our RV and my Mom and Dad in their Bus – we all would bring our bikes and would ride around the campground together. I rode, the boys rode and, as already stated - my mother rode her bike.

“Oh my gosh,” I bet you are saying, “enough already about the bikes! What is the point of your blog?” Well, you’ll just have to trust me and keep reading!

My mother was sort of spoiled when she was a little, I think. She had lessons of all sorts (and a bike at age 2) and nothing was too good for my grandparents’ “little girl.” Among other things, my Mom had piano lessons. When she was 5 she could play the Star Spangled Banner – with both hands! She could read the sheet music! How do you read 2 different lines (staffs) of music at the same time and move your fingers to the right keys, period, let alone when you are 5?! I could never figure this out. Your right hand plays one thing – reading the music in treble clef – and your left hand plays something different, at the same time – reading, at the same time something different in bass clef. Maybe I don’t have that quite right. I’m not sure. But I have tried to play the piano and I just don’t see it working for me. I guess that’s why I played the trumpet in school. 3 keys – 3 fingers. It couldn’t get any easier than that. Now, my sons played instruments with both hands too – taking after their Grammy I guess! My oldest played the clarinet in school (like his Auntie – Hi Teri) and my younger son played the sax! 2 hands – 10 fingers moving differently – amazing! I am in awe of this talent. My younger son is still serious about his music and plays the guitar (2 hands - 10 fingers, doing different things at the same time!) It is really amazing to me and I really love to hear my son play his guitar. He is truly talented and I couldn’t possibly be more proud of him and in awe of his talent.

OK, back to the various lessons and talents my mother had (in addition to her bike riding talents, for which she needed no lessons and was riding at age 2, when she got her first bike – as mentioned!) When my mother was 15 – at a time when most kids are taking driving lessons - she was taking flying lessons! You know, as in a plane in the sky! Flying lessons! I mean, how cool is that?! And when my mother was 16 – when most kids get their drivers license – Mom got her pilot’s license! Her pilot’s license! Now wait, it gets better. For her sweet sixteen, my grandparents bought their little girl a plane! A freakin’ plane! (I know, I keep repeating myself. I can’t help it.) “My mother had her own plane!” (I’m shouting this now.) She must have promised to get straight A’s, I bet. My mother’s name is Alice and she named her plane, appropriately, Wonderland. She had it painted on the side. I guess I don’t need to state the obvious – you know, what people would say when they looked up in the sky and saw my mother in her plane! Isn’t that just too cool?

Now, as it turns out, there was a handsome fly-boy at the airport where my mother kept her plane. He owned his own plane too. It didn’t take long at all for him to notice her. I mean, how many young women have their pilot’s license, let alone their own plane!!? She was probably the only gal there. And, as mentioned earlier, it was at the airport where my mother-to-be met my father-to-be, (lucky for me) who was 4 years older than she. They would fly together, quite literally, off into the sunset! How storybook is that?! And the rest, as they say, is history. Oh, there’s just one last thing. The small airport where my mother kept her plane was 2 towns away from where she lived. Now, I don’t know how many miles that was, but it was a lot. She didn’t have use of a car or even have her driver’s license for that matter. So, with no other means to get to her plane – and in order to be able to fly - my mother rode her bike.

“I’d Rather Be Flying.” ~ Alice - in Wonderland

Author's Note: OK, I'm sure you're wondering where did this all come from and why have I wandered from my "backyard" theme. Well firstly, I guess since this is my blog I'll write what I feel and I will stray off topic from time to time. Secondly, we took Mom to see the movie "Amelia" last week. Great movie - good visual - stunning really (oh, I know I use that word too much!) Anyway - I really could go on and on about the movie and the woman, but I'll just leave it at that.

We've Got Turtles - Snapping Turtle: Part 2

“And God said, ‘Let there be turtles,’ and there were turtles. And God saw that the turtles were good.”

The Jeopardy Category: Turtles & Things – for $200. The answer: 105. You are quick at the buzzer because you know the question – You know this one: How many days did it taken for the “High Street Turtles” to make their entrance into the world? Yes! September 30th was the magic date. And, although a picture is worth a thousand words (well, in my case 1500 words – I’m really trying to shorten these posts!) here is an accounting of that day and this extraordinary event, which, were it not for a series of coincidences, might easily have gone unnoticed!

September 30th was a gorgeous Wednesday and although the day dawned with a bit of leftover sprinkles, these quickly eased up and stopped completely by 9:00. Plenty of sun and blue skies followed. Now, I love the rain and have all the proper rain gear. I will not let a little rain keep me inside or more amply put – keep me from my great outdoors. (Nor will the “cold” keep me in – it’s just a matter of proper layering. It’s amazing, all the lightweight cold weather stuff they have – not like when we were kids – but all that is for another post!) However, my little dog (well, she’s more like a small pony) does not like the rain and she’ll cower and tremble uncontrollably, because she associates it with thunder. During thunderstorms she has been found hiding in the bathtub. So, because we are up way earlier than 9:00 – and so it was still raining - we had to skip our morning walk and opted to just go around the yard. Missy, cowering, quickly did her thing (after some convincing from me that she had to do it and couldn’t just run back into the house like she wanted!) and inside we went. Sigh! So, coincidence #1 was that it was raining, thus causing us to skip our morning walk.

Later in the day, at around 2:00, Mike asked if I could go up and get the mail as he was expecting something. Now, usually we are in and out during the day on appointments, etc. (we work out of our home) and will pick up the mail on the way back. Or, if Mike wants the mail – and we haven’t been out and won’t be – he’ll just drive up himself and get it. He must have been in the middle of something and so he asked if I wouldn’t mind getting it. So – that is coincidence #2. I had been planning on taking Missy on her walk later on at around 5 or so, but it was totally gorgeous out so I jumped at this opportunity to grab her leash and off we went. I would come immediately back with the mail if Mike’s expected mail was there, otherwise, we’d continue on for a brief walk.

So, up at the box, Missy is drawn to something in the road and is sniffing it. I pull her away. I sort of glance at the thing and at first I think it is a mouse or frog (toad?) that unfortunately didn’t make it completely across – stopped short by a car. Oh, poor thing, I think. Suddenly, I realize it is a little bitty turtle and - just as I thought “oh, it happened – it happened,” - I see more crawling through the maze of grass and leaves near the mailbox toward the road, and I realize, “oh my gosh, it’s happening right now!” I, again, cannot believe my eyes. Oh, what to do? They actually want to cross the road. I see where there are a few already that didn’t make it. They are still coming out of this hole. Amazing, look at them go! One, two, three, ---- I count seven of them crawling around. Now, I know from my research that there are between 20 and 40! I only see 5 that didn’t make it. I pick up several of them, one by one, and move them away from the road. I run down the driveway and stop at my neighbor Terry’s house and ring the bell. Good, she’s home.

“Terry, the turtles are being born right now. I’m running home to grab my camera and a box or something.”

Terry has company so she cannot get away right now, but will be up soon. I bring Missy into the house; grab the camera and a big empty box that 2 bags of Cheerios came in (Honey Nut). I tell Mike the turtles have hatched and I’m going to go back up to help them across the street. Mike sees me running out the door with the Cheerios box and he says, in all seriousness and as if he thinks I’m a little crazy, “You’re gonna feed them?” Um, no!

This time, I take the car "up top." No more casualties. Good! Guarding over them, and protecting them from the cars whizzing by, I take some pics and some video. I take more video then still pics. Terry comes up after a few minutes because her visitors had just left. We pick up as many of the little guys that we see – 13 in all – and place them in the Cheerios box to transport them across the street. Why oh why do turtles always want to cross the street? (Well, there is a small pond and brook way down there) How will they ever make it, they can barely make it through the tall grass which is toppling some of them over. They manage to straighten out and continue on. Back at the hole they are still emerging. Some seem to be stronger than others. One guy is crawling over the back of his sibling to get out.

The turtles are only about 1 inch in diameter. They can fit in the small part of the palm of your hand. The hole they are crawling out of is not that much bigger. I have seen such a hole numerous times – here and there - and have often wondered what the heck the hole is all about. Now, I know. There is currently a hole like this down by the lake. It is probably about 50 to 60 feet from the shore. A better location than right near the road? Perhaps. However, there are 2 retaining stonewalls each with about a 3 foot drop before you get to the sandy beach. Oh dear! It is never easy for our little creatures out in “the wild” is it?

After a few minutes of collecting up these cute little, almost dinosaur looking, turtles, my son arrives home from work. Of course he stops in the driveway to see what is happening. I’m glad he got to see this too! I’m glad Terry was home to see this. I emailed the pics to Jack and printed out pics for Art. I didn’t have his email address. I put the pics in Art’s mailbox the next day. He called me when he got home to thank me and we agreed on how awesome it was and we were glad that they hatched this year. I told Art he did a good job as Keeper.

About the series of coincidences: If it had not been raining that morning, I would have gone for a long walk with Missy. If I went to the mailbox without Missy I might not have seen the turtles – as she was drawn to the ones in the road and made me take a closer look. And, usually we pick up the mail at the end of the day anyway – very rarely making a “special trip” to get it. Mike was expecting something and I was happy for the excuse to get out. In any case, I definitely now know for sure that the turtles never hatched last year, in 2008, as I never saw a hole like this one there. It wasn’t a case where they hatched and we didn’t see it as it was happening and so, never knew about it. I was always looking at the ground right near the mailboxes. Not knowing exactly what to look for, I would have noticed the hole and realized what happened. I’m positive none were born last year, poor things. And if I hadn’t have happened to have been there between 2 and 3:00 on the 30th of September this year, I still would have seen the hole that they had dug themselves out of and I would have known that they had been born - and I would have been very happy just knowing that. That would have been enough for me. But actually being there and seeing it all unfold – well, you know – it was beyond double icing on the cake for me.

Now, I’ll be keeping a close eye out as June 15th of 2010 approaches.

Snapping Turtle - Part I

"That this miracle of life, this reproduction - birth, occurs innumerable times every day and has for thousands and even millions of years, does not make it any less of a miracle each unique time, but even more of one."

I was walking down my driveway a few months back, coming home from my morning walk with Missy. As I got down to the bottom fork I was met by my neighbor driving out in his truck. He stopped for a second, stuck his head out the window of the truck and said, “The turtle was back yesterday.”

“Oh my goodness,” I responded, thrilled to hear the news even though I did not witness the sighting. “I can’t believe a year has passed. It’s been one year to the day! This is great, we get another chance!” The countdown begins again.

The first sighting of this turtle, whom we are assuming is the same one, was last year in 2008. It was June 15th. I remember the date because I had made a conscience effort to do so. I made a mental note of it at the time so that I could track the progress and start the countdown. This is how that day begun.

As mentioned, June 15th 2008, I was walking my dog in the early morning. It was the beginning of our walk and it was a beautiful warm morning. When we got to the top of our driveway at the road, we turned right to go onto the grassy area between the mailboxes and the stonewall there, alongside the road. Right next to the last mailbox, on the grass just inches from the road, something catches my eye. Surprisingly, Missy either does not see it or just doesn’t care. Her eyesight doesn’t seem to be all that great and I wonder if she thinks it’s a rock. I am stunned. I just cannot believe what I am seeing. I have never, ever witnessed anything like this.

I see this big snapping turtle, (yes, I’ve seen turtles – but wait, there’s more) probably a bit smaller than a dinner plate – about 8”- 10” in diameter I’d say. I’m wondering why she is not moving after seeing me. I come up to her and am about 1 foot away now. I’m careful to keep Missy at bay, (I picture her going to sniff and getting her nose bitten by this turtle – who could probably take a finger off) although she still isn’t interested. Upon closer examination it becomes clear to me why the turtle is not moving. She is straddling over this hole in the ground. The hole is about 5 to 6 inches around and I can see 2 mounds of dirt on either side of it that have been dug out from it. This mama turtle is laying her eggs there. Amazing! I go and tie Missy’s leash around the wire fence nearby and go back to watch. As I stand behind the turtle I see the eggs dropping out. I stayed and watched until she was done. I counted 13 eggs in about 20 minutes. The eggs are off white in color, round and smooth, and a bit smaller than a golf ball. After every 2 or 3 eggs the turtle reaches down – in slow motion like – with her rear leg (foot?) and, although I can’t see into the hole and so I can’t see the eggs after they have been dropped down there, I realize she is moving the eggs around to make room for more. I can’t believe I get to stand here and watch all of this. How lucky am I? (I have never even seen this on Discovery, although I’m sure it’s been documented.) When all her eggs have been laid and moved and situated just so, she begins to bury them. I am surprised to see that she doesn’t use any of the dirt that came out of the hole – the 2 mounds on either side – but rather she seems to be taking dirt from the sides of the hole. She stops every few seconds and packs it down. All of this is done with only her 2 rear legs.

I finally have to tear myself away because Missy still needs her morning walk, which I cut short. When I come back, the turtle is gone. There is still a little indent where the hole was and where the eggs now lay underground. Of course, I run home and Google snapping turtles to learn when I should expect the eggs to hatch, etc. I learn that the turtle will lay between 20 – 40 eggs and that it will take about 75 to 110 days before they hatch. The colder it is the longer it will take. I note the date – June 15th. The countdown begins. My immediate neighbors, Terry and Jack, had seen the turtle digging the hole at the beginning of their walk and I told my other neighbor (there are 3 homes down my common driveway, which forks at the bottom) Art all about it. I’m figuring October 5th is the drop dead date, although secretly I’m giving it until the 10th or so. (15th?) And now ---- we wait!

So, here are some little known (well little known to me until I Googled it) turtle facts for you to ponder – you know, while we wait. Well, we already know how many eggs and how long it takes for them to incubate, as mentioned above. Further, I have learned that the female turtle will just lay her eggs and will never, ever go back to check on them. She will never know if they hatched or not. She did her job, now she is done! The female turtle will walk a long way – well away from her habitat (pond, lake, etc) to lay her eggs. I guess there are more predators around the habitat area so being further away will give them a better chance of survival. The survival rate is very low for these poor little guys, which is why so many eggs are laid.

Well, October 5th of last year came and went and so did the 10th (and the 15th!) We were all pretty disappointed that no turtles were born. (Do you say they are “born” or do you say they hatched?) But as the year progressed, all was forgotten. (Not really, though.) And now that brings us to this past June 15th, a year later, when Art stopped in his truck to tell me the turtle was back.

Well, I ran into Art up at the mailboxes about a month ago around September 20th or so and I commented, (well, whined really) “No turtles?! No turtles, Art – No Turtles Arthur!” I complained, as if it was all his fault. He was responsible this year because he was the witness and so, the keeper – the guardian! (I guess last year it was my fault.) Although there was still time – it was only 9/20 - for some reason we were all skeptical and had been all along (I guess because last year’s batch didn’t take) and although we were disappointed by the non-event, we weren’t surprised. Maybe again next year? (Perhaps, still, in the next few weeks? I’m not giving up!)

Really though, I gotta say, I wasn’t disappointed at all. I still can’t believe I got to see a turtle lay her eggs!! I mean, how cool is that? Well, it’s very cool in my book. I never ever in my life would have thought or believed that I would see a turtle lay eggs! That was just amazing to me and I still picture it clearly in my mind. (Sorry, no pics – just memory) I think that just, plain ole, just seeing a snapping turtle that day – period – was awesome and would have been “enough” to make my day, (remember though, just seeing a cat makes my day! What is wrong with me?) But then – oh my gosh – seeing her lay the eggs and getting to stand there and watch – well, that is like beyond double icing on the cake for me! Unbelievable. Disappointed? Certainly not. I feel privileged, honored and -- ok I'll say it - blessed - to have witnessed such a thing.

To be continued? I hope so.

Autumn In New England

"The leaves have lost hold of the branches as always; which leaves us with gold and wine colored pathways.” ~ k.d. lang

AAaahhhhhh! Autumn in New England – need I say more?! Probably not, but I can’t stop myself. Today, as I write this, is October 14th. Here in Southern New England we are not quite at peak, they say. However, some leaves are gone off the trees completely while others are not turning into their brilliant yellow, red or orange, but rather almost into a faded yellow or blotchy yellow-brown. It’s as if they skipped their peak stage. There are a lot of trees still that are completely deep green. There are many though, that bare the classic gorgeous, stunning colors you’d expect to see in New England. I’m reminded of a peacock almost – like the trees are vying for attention, each one trying to out-do the other – as if they’re in competition with one another. Which one can be the most breathtaking? It’s like at Christmas-time when the good people of our small town will decorate their homes and yards with lights, nativity scenes, reindeer and Santas. Each one is brilliant and special. Every year you know which ones you can count on and you look forward to seeing them lit up in the holiday season. And so it is with the trees in the Fall. You know which ones usually turn first and which ones are always, always brilliant.

As I started out on my walk with Missy today, I debated with myself about whether to bring my camera. I decided against it. I had already taken pictures on several mornings and I wanted to fully enjoy the colors without the distraction of trying to get the perfect shot. Besides, I’ve come to realize that my camera just does not do justice to the real thing. I’ll see this awesome display of colors bursting through a collage of green and when I look at the picture afterwards it’s just not as wonderful. I don’t have any fancy camera and I don’t claim to be a photographer. And, if you are ever in need of video, do yourself a huge favor and be sure not to ask me. You’ll have to trust me on that one. Others can attest to this though.

We live down a long driveway about 2/10’s of a mile from the road. We refer to our driveway, which we share with our neighbors, in sections of which there are 4. Starting from our house, the first section - heading SSW - is from the bottom of our deck steps up to "the corner;" then you make a left turn - heading ESE - into the section we call "the straightaway;" (there is a gorgeous stonewall that runs parallel to the straightaway on the right with woods on the other side of it. Our neighbor's house is on the left and their private drive comes out onto the common driveway here), then – my favorite section - you turn right into “the enchanted forest” and lastly, you emerge from the forest and make an S turn and on up "the hill." On the right side of the hill is a nice open field and on the left is the rear yard and large vegetable garden of “Mr. McGregor.” (I think my Mom first started to refer to the section through the woods as the “enchanted forest.” My boys were thrilled by this, but more on that in another post!) So, as you walk through the enchanted forest, of course there are woods on either side. At the beginning of the forest, which is just at the end of the straightaway, the stonewall is interrupted due to the driveway cutting through it and through the woods there. I like to sit on the stonewall while I finish my morning coffee. Missy is always impatient yet tolerant when I do this. I need to have her on her leash at this point because there are usually deer nearby which she has been known to chase through the woods. As I sit on the stonewall, I never tire of gazing into the woods along the edge of the straightaway as the sun – just beginning to rise – lights up the tips of the trees in the sort of amber hue that you only see at dawn and dusk. The sun seems to rise so quickly, moving down the trees now as the amber light becomes more washed with yellow. Even when the trees are their deep dark green, the sight of them in the morning amber light at this angle is stunning. Now, with the trees in varying shades of yellow, orange and red, it is truly breathtaking. I look down the gravel driveway through the enchanted forest. The tall trees on either side reach over to meet in the middle above the driveway and the canopy is now aglow with the morning sun lighting up this, usually darker stretch, with soft amber light. It reminds me almost of sitting in a room; the door is open and the light from it is spilling into the otherwise darkened hallway lighting it up with a gentle glow. Or perhaps, more like a “farmer’s porch” in the evening which is lit up by the soft glow of recessed lights in the porch ceiling which have been dimmed. You can’t see the actual harsh lights or light fixtures, but rather a nice faint glimmer. Just as the ceiling canopy of the enchanted forest is brilliant, the gravel forest floor here - not to be out done – is covered with a beautiful array of fallen leaves creating lovely “gold and wine colored pathways.” How much better can this get?

I walk through the enchanted forest with Missy and up the hill to finally meet the road. From my mail box here to the end of my road is a mere 7/10’ths of a mile more or less. It is level and straight. Our street has a variety of homes and is lined with stonewalls and huge oak trees. How old are the walls and the bigger trees? 200 years? There are 2 homes at the end of our street that have “historical” plaques on them. One is from 1775 and the other dates back to 1812. Where our road ends you must either turn left or right onto Lake Street (if you are driving), Missy and I always go straight across into the park and the lake is just 200 feet ahead. Also at the end of our street is the town green with memorials, monuments, plantings and walking pathways. This is where the people gather with the parade for a ceremony every Memorial Day. (Another post!)

There is a beautiful park to walk through, the water’s edge, the paths up through the woods to “The Point,” which overlooks the lake, the cemetery nearby and on and on. I’ll not even try to further describe the beauty of all this during any of the seasons let alone the Fall, (though I will describe different things about these lovely places in other posts.) I’m not a poet or a writer and I’m sure much has already been written about autumn in New England. I’ll just say I marvel at it all and never ever tire of it. There is so much gorgeousness in this 2+ mile walk. (There is so much gorgeousness in my own yard and driveway before even getting up to the road). I think every season is my favorite.

On my walk back today I stopped several times, as I usually do, just to look. I must have been stopped longer than usual at this one spot in the road. It is the area where you can see the valley and the hills beyond. The distant hills, in Fall colors, look rather like a bowl of fruit loops or trix and the early sun, of course, works its magic upon them. Suddenly I am aware that Missy is looking at me – head cocked. “How long have I been out?” I wonder and I wonder what she is thinking. I’m reminded of my favorite poem by Robert Frost as he stops by the woods on a snowy evening – just looking and gawking, no doubt, at the beauty of the snow falling in the woods, so “lovely, dark and deep,” and Frost writes: “my little horse must think it queer to stop without a farmhouse near, between the woods and frozen lake---” Missy gives her leash a little tug and grunts. Frost writes: “he gives his harness bells a shake, to ask if there is some mistake.” “OK,” I say to Missy. “Let’s go.” I tear myself away and on we walk a bit further before turning left into our driveway, continuing down the hill, through the enchanted forest – picking up the coffee cup I left there on the stonewall at the start - and the straightaway, then round the bend and up the steps to our deck. With the sun rising later we’ve been getting a later start. We’ve been out just over an hour and it is now close to 8:00. Early still I guess. (I’m looking forward to the time change soon so I can get out an hour earlier. I loved getting out before 5:00 during most of the summer.) I give Missy a treat and pour a glass of water for myself. I stand near the sliders while I drink my water, still looking, and take a deep breath when I am done. I am ready to shower and start my day.

Editor's Note: I hope you will Google "Stopping By Woods on A Snowy Evening" and also "The Road Not Taken" by Robert Frost. 2 of my favorites. If you are reading my blog, I know they are your favorites too! Enjoy!

Letterboxing

“Thoughts meander like a restless wind inside a letterbox” ~ Lennon/McCartney

Do any of you out there know what letterboxing is? Oh my gosh, this letterboxing stuff is so cool! My husband told me about it last year (I think) but I had forgotten all about it. Well, he just directed me again, the other day, to the website and this time I have bookmarked it. (A huge thank you to my husband who knows this stuff is right up my alley!) (By the way, have any of you checked your bookmarked stuff lately? My list is quite lengthy and I wonder if I already have this letterboxing on it. The other day, while sifting through my bookmarked stuff/“favorites” I came upon this great blog I saved about tides in the Bay of Fundy in New Brunswick. Very cool stuff. I’m so glad I saved it and I need to check further to see all the others I’ve saved – and forgotten. Of course, all of you out there have my blog bookmarked, right? Right?)

OK, back to the letterboxing. Go to www.letterboxing.org. (Wait, not yet.) I know you all can figure it out from there. (But I’ll explain a little bit about it below) So people actually make these stamps. I remember making something when I was in the 4th grade. You sort of carved out something on the surface of a special block of wood. The wood was soft and we had special tools – (I can’t believe they let us have these sharp tools, which I remember looked something like a potato peeler.) Then you had some sort of roller thing that you rolled in ink and then rolled on your wood design and then finally stamped on a card which you brought home to your Mom. So, I think that is what they mean when they say everyone has their own unique handcrafted stamp. But, they say, you can buy one if you’re in a pinch. I wonder what they mean by that? Why would someone be in a pinch and just have to rush out to go "a- letterboxing?"

So, here’s what you do. When you go online to the website, you’ll click on your state and find your county and you may find your town or a town near you. There should be several different things listed to click on. Each one will be a whole separate thing. You click on it and they give you clues. You need a compass and it is like a treasure hunt. Anyway, when (if) you find your letterbox, inside it will be the person’s unique stamp and a pad. You stamp your pad with their stamp and you stamp their pad with your stamp and then re-bury the treasure box – I mean letterbox. Beyond that, I don’t know what else you do. I still have to find out. Of course you can go hide a letterbox and register at this site and then go online and give your clues, etc. This is really exciting stuff for me. And, more importantly though, it’s something to do with your younger children. Something fun you can do together. How wonderful is that.

Well, I can’t believe that there is a letterbox at the very place where I go almost every time I walk my dog. This place is my favorite spot to go, overlooking the lake where I live, (it is “the Point” that I have mentioned in other posts) and there is a letterbox there, somewhere. I haven’t looked for it yet, but I’m looking forward to doing that soon! Be sure to check out that site I gave above. (Yes, go there now). Enjoy!

EDITOR'S NOTE: Well, I couldn't find the letterbox at the Point, but I am going to keep on searching for it when I'm there. However, at my other favorite place to go to, which is right near the Point - (it is the cemetary - weird, I know) I did find a letterbox. Very cool and exciting! I didn't have a hand-made stamp (or an emergency store bought one) but I did sign my initials on the pad and the date and tucked it all back safe and sound! Very very cool!

Random Acts Of Kindness?

“You’ve got to get up every morning with a smile on your face and show the world all the love in your heart.” ~ Carole King

When I was in college, some 30+ years ago, I believed in the goodness of people. It was truly my belief that people were basically good and decent and I was in love with the human race. I wanted to do what I could to help people who were less fortunate than me. I was going to join the Peace Corps.

Well, I never did join and soon after college – somewhere along the way – I became jaded and even turned cynical. I believe that it was soon after joining the ranks of the working class, going to work every day in the “corporate world,” that this jadedness occurred. Due in part perhaps to the game of office politics, which I learned quickly and reluctantly how to play, and partly due to my role of dealing with the public – these real people face to face on the telephone. It was then that I came to believe that people were basically idiots.

Then, later still, I had another reversal of how I viewed the world and how I looked at people. I don’t know when it was (because it was a long time ago) that I, again, started believing in the goodness of people but I’m glad I did. I believe we are all in this together and we might as well be kind to one another. For one thing it is just easier that way.

So, what changed? Well, the serenity prayer comes to mind. “Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; the courage to change the things I can; and the wisdom to know the difference.” You can’t change people, but you can change the way you view people. You can change your own attitude toward people. Honestly, I really don’t remember making any conscience decision to change myself, but I do know that we all have the power to look at things a certain way. Attitude is a very powerful thing. We wake up every morning and can decide right then whether or not to have a good day. The outcome of our day all depends on how we decide to go through our day. It’s 90% attitude. On one of the morning shows – years ago – one of the anchors used to sign off by saying, “Go out and make it a good day.” You really do have the power to make of your day anything you really want it to be. You can make it a good day. OK, trite I know – but “when life gives you lemons, make lemonade; and when life gives you scraps, make a quilt.” You get the idea. It doesn’t have to be that drastic though. Just resolve to have a good day. So, it is raining out. Big deal! Use your umbrella - and share it with someone who forgot theirs! Rain can be a good thing. It depends on how you look at it.

I think that most people know that the Boy Scout motto is “be prepared” but lesser known, I think, and the more important philosophy is the Boy Scout slogan, which is “Do a good turn daily.” The scout leaders were always quick to add, to do at least one good turn daily. Do good things, period. Even the scout oath says, “---to help other people at all times,---“ If we all really lived these simple principles, how much easier would life be?! When I was a den leader with my younger son’s cubscout den, our den was chosen to open the Pack meeting with a prayer. I picked this nice prayer, called “A Boy’s Prayer” which I had found in my grandfather’s 1912 pocket bible given to him from the Boys Christian School he attended in his youth. I renamed it “A Scout’s Prayer,” and each boy read a line from it. One line read, “send me small chances to do a little good every day.”

So now I ask you, “random” acts or “deliberate” acts of kindness? I know the “Practice Random Kindness and Senseless Acts of Beauty” or “Random Acts of Kindness” bumper stickers that we all see is really an answer to all the horrible headlines we see: “Random shootings. Senseless acts of violence, killings,” and so on. But I believe that we should really be deliberate in the kindnesses we show to other people and we should make this a way of life. Do a good turn daily. Seek out and create chances to do a little good every day. You don’t need to be “younger” than someone or be a “male” to do any of the following: Pump gas for someone; open the door for someone; let someone go ahead of you at the checkout; give someone your seat on the bus; tell a stranger that you like their shirt, (if you like their shirt); give a ride to someone if you know they need it; if you are able to – when you pay for your coffee at the drive-thru – pay for the car behind you, be sure to ask the cashier to tell the car person to pay it forward when they can; volunteer: and so on and so on! These are simple things that we can do. It is amazing how little an effort on our part can result in making someone's day and/or really turning their day around.

Practice deliberate and purposeful acts of kindness. Show the world all the love in your heart. Resolve to be positive. Strive to be a better person. I could go on and on (I think I already have) but I don’t want to sound too preachy and I don’t want to come off sounding as if I am “perfect” somehow. Far from it. You get the idea. We all can be better people. Now, go out and make it a good day!

EDITOR'S NOTE: (Me again) I was blessed the other day to have been sent a small chance to do a little good. While in the lobby of the post office, I noticed someone's checkbook at the table there. The address on it was right down the road from my home, so I went there to deliver it. No one was home so I left a note. Someone called to say that the person didn't live there anymore and he didn't know who the person was. I went to the PO the next day to see if the guy had been there looking for his checkbook or that maybe he had a PO box there. He had not and did not. So I drove to his bank, just 10 minutes away, and gave it to the customer service person. She was able to look up his account and see that he did not call to close out his account or anything. I'm glad he didn't go through all that trouble to close it out and open another one. She'll put a note, on-line, that his checkbook had been found - etc. etc. And - she will call him. She has a new address for him and a phone number! I'm sure he would have called to find out about it sooner or later, so I feel he's all set and will get good news when he calls his bank or they call him!

Where Have All The Daisies Gone?

“I’ll give you a daisy a day Dear; I’ll give you a daisy a day. I’ll love you until the rivers run still and the four winds we know blow away.”

Daisies are my favorite flower – always have been. My love and appreciation for the daisy goes back to when I was in 7th grade. Nothing in particular happened then, it’s just that’s when I started liking daisies. I don’t know why I remember this, I just do. And it’s not that I liked a different type of flower prior to that. It’s just that prior to that – you know, prior to when you’re 12 or 13 – you don’t know much of anything. You aren’t really aware of the universe and that you actually have a place in it. (Yes, you do!) You kind of run on blind faith – doing what you’re told to do by your parents and doing what you know you’re supposed to do. You’re kind of in a state of oblivion or ignorant bliss. Then suddenly, you wake one day and you are a person (and you like daisies). Things just sort of click and you become more aware of things. But this post is not about that, so ---

Daisies are such a happy, cheery type of flower. Just seeing one puts a smile on my face. So simple and pretty. The daisy needs no flowery complicated accessories. Its petals are not intricately woven hiding secrets within. With the daisy – what you see is what you get. Sweet innocence. Understated beauty. Kind of like “the girl next door.” Fresh faced and no makeup needed. No pretense. Or, like the black cocktail dress. Simple elegance. Quiet distinction. But unlike the black cocktail dress or the girl next door, the daisy doesn’t always get noticed. It doesn’t get its due of praise, I think. That’s ok. I like you anyway little daisy. You are my favorite. I do believe though that daisies are positively associated with sunshine, happiness, peace and love. Remember the picture of the soldier with a daisy sticking out of the barrel of his gun? (Do you actually remember the 60's?)

So, I was 12 in 1969. (Being only 12 then, yeah I remember the 60's. Just a bit too young for all the crazy stuff!) My favorite “star” was Doris Day. (If my sibs are reading this, they are rolling their eyes, saying, “oh yeah, we remember your Doris Day phase.”) My father used to refer to her as “Dodo” (Doe Doe?) and said that this was a nickname for a person named Doris. He swore by it. I always believed him but somehow, secretly, I knew he was just kidding with me. As it turns out, daisies were (are) Doris Day’s favorite flower too! How cool is that when you’re 12 and your favorite star likes the same flower you do! Although we didn’t need it, the daisy and I had some validation. And Doris Day is still my favorite star – no apologies from me about that. Now fast forward some 30+ years to the movie “You’ve Got Mail” and if you have seen it a bazillion times you will have noted that daisies are the Meg Ryan character’s favorite too. If you have only seen it once (or, heaven forbid, not at all) then I highly recommend seeing it again. Not just for the daisy scene but simply because it is a feel good movie - one of my favorites. Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan have a stunning screen presence and chemistry. And, he brings her daisies!

When we were married, on the day of our wedding, my soon-to-be husband surprised me with 12 dozen daisies. One hundred forty-four daisies! This was way above and beyond sweet! We had bunches of daisies throughout our apartment. It was wonderful and the aroma was heavenly. My husband has also been known to mow around wild daisies in our field and then pick them for me. Sweet!!

And now I ask you, where have all the daisies gone? I cannot find any daisies anywhere. Of course the only florist I go to is at the local Stop & Shop. While there recently, I asked that very question. “So, where are all the daisies?” “Oh, we don’t carry them anymore,” was the reply. “What?!!!” says me. “They just aren’t very popular,” my friendly Stop & Shop florist told me. “You’d have to go to an actual florist. They probably carry them.” Well, I don’t know if I ever would buy flowers for myself anyway. I guess now I’ll never know. I wouldn’t make a special trip to a florist to pick up flowers for myself – for sure. I just thought that, well, while I was at Stop & Shop anyway – you know, buying food and stuff – and the florist is right there near the deli, that maybe I could buy some daisies to grace our kitchen table. Would I actually have bought them for myself? Well, as mentioned, now I’ll never know. They don’t carry them!

My younger son, who is 19 and lives at home, and his girl attended the wedding of a friend recently. They were chosen - or elected or otherwise somehow picked – to take home the lovely centerpiece from their table. Well, I couldn’t believe my eyes when in they walked with these stunning daisies in a clear glass vase and proceeded to set them on the kitchen table. Now, of course, I know these daisies are not for me, yet there they sat on our table. Lovely! I commented on how pretty they were and how nice that they got to take them home. I contained myself and did not let on about how thrilled I was to see daisies and that they were my favorite! They were not mine, but still I got to enjoy them, until they went home. Ahh!

Well, maybe I’ll buy daisies to grace our kitchen table. They will brighten everybody’s day and will not be just for my benefit. They can’t cost all that much I wouldn’t think. They are more like the Keds or Converse of flowers, I would think, unlike the very pricey Nike Air Jordans, like roses are! (Remember PF Flyers, the sneaker that promised to make you “jump higher and run further” – or was it faster? True to their word, I could out run every boy in our neighborhood. Now, there was a sneaker!)

I will always love daisies. And although I don’t see them very often, not even at various functions where other flowers gather, it’s nice to know that they can be found, apparently, at my local florist. Under appreciated, though – the daisy. If ever you come to my house and you want to bring something but you don’t know what to bring (no, you don’t need to bring anything, really – I’m just saying--) I hope after reading this, something will come to mind!

Thanking you in advance,
~ sheri

EDITOR'S NOTE: (Yeah, that's me - editor) Well, the daisies never were taken home by my son's girl -- they stayed on our kitchen table and lasted 2 weeks! I changed the water daily and said "good morning daisies" every morning. Doing this made me smile. (So - I talk to daisies - so what!)

Beware - The Turtle

"For, lo! the winter is past, the rain is over and gone; the flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land".~ Old Testament, The Song of Solomon ii. 11, 12.

I had the distinct pleasure recently of observing snapping turtles within their natural habitat on 2 separate occasions. Good stuff!

I’m in my kayak, of course, in one of the coves that I like to go to which is tucked in just around the first island. (When we were kids we used to refer to this island as Crocker Island – so, from here on in it is so called!) You can go around the island clockwise then into the cove or you can go between the island and the main land (where Crocker’s house was, I guess) and you come out right into the cove. The water is still and as smooth as glass, like a mirror. There is no breeze, so no rippling of the water at all. Little things really stand out when it is this calm. I can see a leaf floating on the water from 50 feet away, as “something.” You can’t really tell what it is until you are closer and then you realize – oh, it’s just a leaf!

So, as established, I’m in the cove just sort of chillaxin and dangling my fingers in the warm water. I spot something sticking out of the water ahead. (It’s definitely not a leaf.) It’s not sticking out all that much. I am moving (coasting) ever so slowly – I’m practically still. Approaching the thing sticking out, just 5 feet off to the side and in front of me, I see now that it is a turtle. It is rather small, probably 4” in diameter. (I’m reminded of the turtle that lived under my parents dock and when my boys were small they would seek out this turtle, whom they named Tom.) Just as I saw it --- it saw me and dove down quickly. I could see it go – it’s little turtle feet and hands paddling through the water propelling it downward until I lost sight of it, after a couple feet and within seconds of spotting it, due to the murkiness of the water there. Pretty cool.

Well, a couple of weeks later, which was just a couple of weeks ago, I’m in my cove again on my way back from meandering along the rocks near shore. Some of the rocks stick out like icebergs – just the tips. There is much more to them under the water. I guess these rocks are more like boulders and I really like to weave in and around them here, looking down to the smaller rocks a foot - more or less - under the water, getting stuck here and there and grabbing onto the “icebergs” to move myself about. The water is probably at its warmest this time of year, in late August, and I like to “coast” with my hands in the water. Just up ahead I see what I think is just another large rock sticking out of the water. It’s probably 8 – 10 feet ahead but I can see it extending below the water. I realized within a second of seeing it what it was. It is the biggest mother of a snapping turtle that I have ever seen. I pull my hands out of the water. (Are there more just below me waiting for a snack?) This turtle was way bigger than a dinner plate – probably as big as the seat of a chair - the bigger chairs like you’d see in a waiting room. It was gone as quickly as it appeared. I wondered how old it was. How old do turtles get to be? I think they live a very long time. I must have heard this on the Discovery channel (I love that channel). And now I’ll have to do my turtle research to learn all about it. What I did learn though, without doing any research at all, was never to dangle my fingers in the water while in that cove again! Lesson learned! ------- Good turtle, go home! Dive deep!

It was very exciting though. Another great start to the day. There is so much wildlife right here (yes, in my own backyard) I never cease to be amazed and in awe of it. I feel so lucky and blessed to bear witness to it – some of it so fleeting. It is all such a gift (as my neighbor Terry so perfectly put it one morning). After counting my blessings – (and counting my fingers - 10!) – I headed back to the dock.

1 kayak: $349.00
1 paddle: $70.00
1 life jacket: $50.00.
1 hour in the early morning on my lake: priceless.

Please Be Patient - Give Me A Chance

“Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup, they slither while they pass, they slip away across the universe.” ~ Lennon/McCartney

Oh my goodness, people. Please don’t leave! I’m finding that these posts are just longer than I had intended them to be and I fear that you will all just look at the length and just say; “forget it, not gonna read it, too long. Can’t possibly read all this during the next commercial.” Please hang in there with me. I promise to keep them shorter!

Here’s the thing. When I first mulled over the idea of doing a blog, I thought;

“What will I write about? What do I have to offer? Why would anyone want to read my blog? Will I have enough “material”? Who do I think I am anyway?” You get the idea. I had my doubts. Not that I think anyone is actually out there reading – ok, maybe just one person, but that’s unconfirmed. For all I know these words are just slipping away into cyber space – across the universe – unread. But that’s ok. I’m feeling better already just having written them down.

Anyway – the point is, once I decided I was going to do this, my thoughts meandered "like a restless wind inside a letterbox,” and I couldn’t make it stop. All these years of having conversations in my head - with various friends whom I so rarely see because I wanted to just share things with them – just started flowing out and I started to write down my ideas for the various posts.

So, I will try to make them shorter and to the point. I mean, I don’t need to write a long story about everything, now do I? Like, take tomorrow’s post – already written, well, in my head anyway. Just short and sweet. A very small paragraph. Probably only 5 sentences and no “story” to it – just an observation that made my day.

Please be patient. Give me a chance! Keep reading! Write a comment! Y'all come back now! (all 1 of you) Have a nice day - really!