Autumn Leaves

Autumn Leaves

The Sun rises

pale and cold.

Her Light shines brilliant

through dew drops

on red-gold leaves.

Old words

vainly recall an idea

of perfection.

Tree frog green.

Butter warm yellow.

Smiling heart orange.

Finger toasty red.

Hush puppy brown.

See?

Old words.

Yet everywhere i look

is a new colour.

One i have never seen.

Never experienced.

I am bedazzled.

Spell bound.

I am in Love.

And all the more

because tomorrow

it will be gone.

When We Had Halloween

 I’m not much for one to yammer on about “the good ole days” when everything we touched was golden and life was all smiles and laughter.  That’s a load of poop if there ever was a load.  But now and again my mind wanders from the Now and reminisces on “days of yore.”  Some trigger is pulled and my past drifts up from that deep well of memories and i recall a life’s moment with illusionary clearness – as if it was really happening.  The Mind is a powerful, seductive thing. 

One such trigger for me, every year without fail, is Halloween.  I love – LOVE – Autumn.  Each turning leaf, gust of wind, and honk of the migrating geese is like a new experience for me – and i greet these wonderful moments with great joy.  But Halloween.  Ah.  I miss the costumes and scary faces that came from dime-store makeup and old clothes from the back of your mother or father’s closet.  When scary was what your imagination did to you as you walked to a dark house with only the lights of the jack-o-lanterns aglow.  It wasn’t WHAT you saw that scared you – it’s what you THOUGHT you saw there in the shadows.  It was being able to walk in just a small group of two or three, and not see another soul on the street, or if you did, they were too far to give a sense of security.  It was that nervous possibility that someone would trick you, not treat you.  Because there were those who tricked and did not treat.  Never done in maliciousness, but in the spirit of fun and chaotic madness that is the soul of Halloween.  How can “trick or treat” have many meaning if you don’t know what it is to be tricked?  We never knew, and it made it that much more delicious, that much more nail-biting, that much more fun – to not know.  One of my fondest memories is of a girlfriend and i tip-toeing down a long, dark, tree-covered driveway.  The wind was blowing cold and we huddled together arm in arm.  The only lights were the carved, candle-lit pumpkins lining the porch railing and one dim house light.  Beneath the light sat a dark figure in a rocking chair.  The figure said nothing as we approached.  It didn’t move.  The front door next to the figure opened into a dark house.  No sounds could be heard but the blowing of the wind, our pounding hearts and worried whispers.  Just as out little shoes touched the bottom step of the porch, two boys dressed in rags smeared in red and darkened eyes jumped from the porch roof screaming like a clan of banshees.  Another figure that we couldn’t see but could hear running hard, came at us with a loud horn blowing.  The figure in the rocker – a man – moaned ominously – slowly rose, and came shambling towards us.

That was more than enough  – we screamed like only two little girls can scream and ran as fast as our feet would take us back to the street where my Mom was waiting – laughing.  We could hear laughter from the boys behind us.  Then we laughed too.  That relieved, that-was-so-fun-let’s-do-it-again kind of laugh. 

I miss that kind of Halloween.  That scariness that comes from the imagination.  Those memories will be with me forever – long after the candy is gone and the costumes worn away. 

Flying

Despite TSA, despite extra charges for everything from luggage to leg room, despite long lines and long waits, despite uncomfortable seats, and despite sinus headaches from altitude changes and stale air – i like flying.  Really i do.  Each time, as the plane rolls down the runway, i get this flutter in the pit of my stomach.  The runway flashes by faster and faster and then that final kick of the engines – i am pressed back against my seat – and we are airborne!  It never fails to feel like a new experience no matter how many flights i have taken. 

"Oh.  I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth, And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings…”* I am transfixed as the Earth spreads out beneath me.  The plane banks and turns away from the airport.  The city i know so well, the place i call home, becomes a mosaic of pretty-colored tiles in dusty browns, gold, and forest greens, and roads the grout that holds the city together.  From the city we turn again.  Below us the rivers and lakes shrink as we climb to cross the snow-laced mountains.  The Grand Canyon is but a small textured line that meanders across the red desert and is but a tiny wrinkle on this vast face of Earth.  We fly over miles upon miles of fields.  They stretch to the horizon looking more like a giant’s game board than the food that graces our plates.  And the clouds!  Mmmm, home-churned ice cream!  They seem so solid then – whoosh! – we fly right through them.  Others are flat and thick, like a heavy morning fog while some are so soft, their edges blurred in muted colors, are just a painter’s dream.  Surreal. 

Seeing the Earth this way, is like being reborn.  I am a child again.  Amazed, delighted, broadly smiling at each new sight.  And the night – oh – the night.  How lovely the Moon shines on the Earth!  It becomes a game for me to find the reflection of the Moon twinkling from one body of water to another.  Bayous, flooded fields, lakes, rivers, the Ocean – they sparkle like city lights beneath us and i follow that dazzling trail to the edge of the Earth – where Skies and Land meet. 

I wish i had wings – great, big, white angel wings.  I would fly so high – and so low.  To see every detail of the Earth in that bird’s eye view.  Nothing exists out here.  No worries.  No problems.  Just the beautiful Earth.  So precious.  So amazing and new – every time.     

*The lines are the first stanzas from “High Flight,” by John Gillespie Magee, Jr.




Below is a video of Yves Rossy, "Jetman," making a historic flight over Grand Canyon West on May 11, 2011.  Watch it!

Just How Lazy Are You?

I spend a lot of time with people.  I like people.  I like their crazy stories and even crazier opinions.  I talk a lot.  I try to listen even more.  But all that people-time builds up a need in me for some serious down-time.  A need for quiet solitute in a beautiful setting.  I frequently go for a ramble in some spacious park, along a river, up a mountain, or down an empty beach.  I'll walk for hours - watching the weather roll in and out, watching the sun rise and fall.  Troubles melt against that vast beauty. 

But amidst that wonderful feeling of - aaaaahhhhhhhh - i often run into an eyesore that spoils the whole image.  Trash.  It jars the soothing calm of Nature when i stumble upon - sometimes quite literally - a pile of garbage.  I cannot understand why anyone would want to leave such a mess behind.  It's not like you can do it by accident.  "Oops - i just forgot that diaper full of poop!  Oops - i just forgot that case of empty beer bottles!  Oops - i just forgot that bag of empty sandwhich wrappers, soda cans, cigarette cartons, and candy wrappers!"  You didn't forget.  You just didn't want to bother.  Which baffles me.  If you thought enough to bring it in - why can't you think enough to bring it out?  The only reason i can think of is laziness.  Just pure laziness. 

And what baffles me even more, if you were to ask a person, any person, which place you would rather visit - a trash-filled beach or a pristine one?  The answer would always be, hands-down, the pristine beach.  No one, including the people who leave their trash behind, want to be in a place that looks like the county landfill. 

When i take my jaunts, i usually bring a neatly folded paper bag with me.  I pick up as i walk, or pile it up and get it on my way back.  If i forget the bag, i'll use my jacket, towels, or whatever i have on hand to gather trash up and take it to a garbage bin.  It isn't hard.  I don't even break a sweat.  And somehow i always imagine all the birds, plants, animals, and our Mother Earth saying a little "thank you" when i help to keep Her clean and beautiful. 

So next time you and the fam are going out in Nature to enjoy - please bring a paper bag and help pick up what others have left behind.  And if you see someone leaving trash, a tackful "reminder" - to take back what they brought with them - wouldn't hurt.

Expectations

Evil things really.  Or rather not evil so much as an illusionary dream of dreams.  And we have so many of them - the cancer of fantasy.  They run rampant through our thoughts.

Foolish - we base our lives on imagined occurances.  We imagine we will be rich - so we spend every penny because we believe money will always be there.  We imagine the worse will happen so we hoard every penny, take no chances, cause no waves; we try nothing new.  Etiher way - our expectations chain us to patterns of thought.  We believe these patterns to be real.

You have a relationship problem.  You think, "I will say this.  Then he or she will say that.  Then i will say this.  Then my partner will understand everything, apologize, and all will be smiles again."  Great expectations.  How is it that we believe we know what another person is going to say?  We don't know what WE will say the next moment.

We have an extraordinary inability to see WHAT  IS and to not take it any further than that.  It's like we can't leave it alone.  We have to keep worrying with it.  Fidgeting with reality till we distort it to something we think we want.  No wonder we are so disappointed.

I was fascinated by the first Matrix movie.  I thought, "Yes!  There it is in a super sexy black leather overcoat - we are asleep."  We are only dreaming of a world we wished to be.  But we aren't really in it - we aren't really touching that world with our full senses.  We are too busy dreaming to be bothered with a thing called Reality.

Here Thar Be Pirates!

What A Handsome Lad!

This is the 5^th year running of the great NorCal Pirate Festival held on the waterfront in Vallejo and my third time to attend.  And it was once again positively spectacular!  Even having seen this before, i am still amazed by the creativity, enthusiasm, and fun-loving energy that goes into this event.  And puns.  Lots of puns.  I saw a sailor dragging a rope with a long piece of wood at the end.  Painted on the wood was the word, “PLANK.”  A friend, laughing, turned to me and said, “Get it?  He’s walking the plank!”  Oh the levity.

For certain it helps if you have a sense of fun, adventure, and a heaping dose of silliness to help enjoy the festivities.  But even if you are a stouthearted, maritime historian, there is plenty to admire here.  The Dauntless, The Brotherhood of Albion, Morgan’s Companie, the Government House, and others provide nautical fact to the Hollywood fiction.  In fact, many of the pirates working the event have a full knowledge of maritime history and were quite happy to share with an enthusiastic listener.  In my mind, that’s the best you can get – a well-blended balance of crazy fun and nautical life – they even have it along the waterfront to give it that harbor feel.  Could it get any better?  Oh yes – it does!  I brag to everyone how good the food vendors are – what a feast!  Every year i make sure to get something different.  I’ve had meat pies, gyros, cinnamon almonds, chocolate dipped strawberries, funnel cakes – and this year, much to my delight – they had mouthwatering fish-n-chips!  It was one of those things i had mentioned in a blog i posted last year about this event – the lack of fish-n-chips.  Obviously i wasn’t the only one who missed this tasty dish.  I walk away every year wishing i had a bigger stomach. 

This year’s entertainment was even better than last.  Either that or i’m becoming more and more a pirate (to be sure).  Undead pirates – courtesy of the Pirates of Emerson (who do a wicked Halloween haunting every year…) and the Dead Pirate Macabre – jugglers, comedians, musicians, sword fighting, Pirate Lords and Ladies, cannon fire, dancers, storytellers, Capt. Jack-a-Likes, and piratical debauchery are the rule of the day.  Merchants are just as varied, selling everything from t-shirts and treasure maps, to finely made period clothing, decorated skulls, and swords. And i must say, the wares are high-quality and not dollar-store-junk.  I would like to do a shout out to Pirate Mod, one of the best and creative piratical t-shirt designers around.  It is through their website that i discovered the NorCal Pirate Festival three years ago.  I’ve been a satisfied customer of theirs ever since.  Hello good peoples – thanks for your hard work and great shirts! 

Crew of the Dauntless

One of the highlights of each day’s festival is the sailing of the Aldebaron and her attack on the British Royal Navy.  She’s a beautiful schooner with wooden masts, spars, and decking – and remarkable red sails.  Even though she was under diesel power, the wind filled her sails and showed off colors.  The land based cannon fire, and possibly the ship too, was provided by B.O.O.M. (the Brotherhood of Oceanic Mercenaries).  Honestly, i don’t know how real sailors and infantry kept from going completely deaf in their first year of service; the concussion of power when a gun goes off is scary.  Another highlight is the Court of the Pirate Lords.  The Pirate Brethren put on a great show which features slap-stick comedy, swordplay, and choosing a new pirate lord.

The Aldebaron fires on the British! 

And the British fire back!

All of this is to say, i will be back again and again to be delighted with such mirth and laughter as to keep me in smiles all week long!  For those of you who wished you had known earlier about this event, or realized it too late – put this on your phone or computer calendar.  Next year Father’s Day weekend is June 16^th & 17^th, and unless things change drastically, that’s when the next Nor Cal Pirate Festival will be.  So set the date now and don’t miss out on the best event all year!

Queen Anne's Revenge

The Sea Dogs

Crazy Cool Jobs

Look at these guys.  Crazy.  But cool.  For the last few weeks i’ve been watching them fly through the air at the end of a tether, going from one high power tower to another.  It looks like a blast.  Zipping through the sky, swinging free and clear.  What a view!  What an experience!  I would dig it.  I’ve flown in gliders, been pulled behind a boat in a parasail, traversed ziplines through treetops, flown loops and hammerhead stalls in a bi-plane, and skydived.  Oh and wouldn’t i just love to add this experience to my little list of aerial feats – not that i’ve intentionally tried to create a check-list of craziness.  It’s just that opportunities arise.  And i take them.  

Obviously, i have no fear of heights.  Or control issues.  I envy these guys as they zip along.  Yet despite the casual regard, i have a great fear of what the gentlemen are actually doing – working with electricity.  True enough.  It’s some seriously high voltage electric we’re talking about.  But the stuff really frightens me.  I don’t even like walking underneath them.  Buzzing and humming with zappy power.  Gives me the willies. 

I remember when i was a kid, the boys would dare each other to touch an outlet.  I was completely amazed and baffled by their stupidity.  Why on earth would you want to get zapped?  Hell, static electricity scares me.  I do all sorts of tricks to avoid it.  It’s a wonder i will even turn on a light switch.  There’s one in my bathroom that makes a little popping noise when i flick the switch.  I have little heart palpitations every time.    

Back to our flying electricians, they have a very cool job.  They probably even get extra pay.  Certainly it’s dangerous work they have with lots of room for a possible fatal error.  But i can’t imagine that it’s ever a boring job.  In fact, i think it would be one of those jobs you actually look forward to when you wake up in the morning.  As for me, i would take the ride but not the job.  I wonder if i could talk them into hiring me to photograph their work?  That would be cool.