Category: Uncategorized

Yesterday morning, I woke up and started my day earlier than I would have liked to. Shortly after 5 am, I woke up to go to the bathroom. When I climbed back into bed, I was feeling frustrated. I tossed and turned throughout the night. As I lay there, I questioned whether another couple of hours of sleep would make much difference.There was a lot I wanted to get done this weekend and starting the day in a deficit wasn’t going to help. By 6 am, I had jumped out of bed, started coffee (“Lie to me, my friend…tell me all we’re going to do today!”), then plopped in front of my computer. Taxes, writing, website stuff, these and other things were on my list to get accomplished over the weekend, the list that seemed to grow. 

It didn’t take long to put the tax preparation behind me, then I moved onto my website where I have shared some photos and stories over time. For years, I’ve had in the back of my mind to submit stories and images from my wandering and wondering. I wanted to polish my website to put my best foot forward. Since I’ve been in the I.T. world for more years than I care to share, I started with backing up my website before tinkering. 

There were a number of things I wanted to tweak. Some stories that I wanted to go back and review, some images I had posted, I also wanted to put together a gallery page to show a diverse set of my work, but most of all, it was just the layout. The process of how WordPress handled images and the plugins for galleries made things sloppy in the background and didn’t show on the front end the way I wanted.

As these stories go, one thing led to another. During the process, I decided to switch themes, a template used for implementing a different design, look, and flow in the website. One thing after another just fell through and around 3:30 pm, I got a call from Lori. I had been staring, futzing with and cursing at my site since around 10:00 am. “Why don’t you stop for the day?”, she said. We talked for a little bit, then said goodbye. Two hours later, I finally threw in the towel. I was in a funk and the news of a war being launched didn’t help. Dusk was setting in and I jumped into a nice hot, long shower. I would make plans to go out for dinner – Nacho Mamas on Broad Street was drifting through my mind.

Out of the shower, clothed and heading to my car, I sent a text to Lori of an image of one of the publications I want to submit my work to. An issue of LensWork had arrived in the mail and I brought it with me to page through at dinner. After the text, I gave her a quick call. We talked and I shared about LensWork, the additional two hours I spent staring at my screen, and how I just remembered the backup I made of the site before jumping off the cliff. I would restore from backup, but not today and maybe not tomorrow.  

Dinner did not disappoint and I topped it off with a quick detour to Boll Weevil – if you know, you know! I decided as I drifted off to sleep that I would make a priority of getting outside. The sun would come out in the afternoon and with a day job that has me indoors 5 days a week, 8 hours a day, time in the sun is always restorative. 

I rolled out of bed this morning shortly after 8:00 am. I felt like I could use some more sleep but I wandered into my kitchen and looking out the window, I saw that a blanket of fog covered the land. I pondered shifting into fifth gear, then started putting on clothes and grabbing camera gear. It would be a perfect morning to saunter around Boyd Pond. Parking the car at the street lot, I sifted through my lenses, thinking about what I wanted to shoot with first, then headed down the walkway. The sun was out in full force, but the trees were still enshrouded by the fog. The sun wasn’t the only thing in full force. I felt as if I had stepped out into a wildlife sanctuary – the many different songs from many different birds shouted out loud!

After walking a little bit, I turned around to head back to my car. I hadn’t wanted to carry all my gear, so I decided to leave my long lens behind and some scenes before me showed that I needed that lens. Returning to the path after grabbing my lens, one of the first things that caught my eye was a woodpecker. He darted about, quickly creeping up a tree then onto the next one. I leveled my camera and tried to keep up. I continued to walk. 

It wasn’t long after seeing the Downy Woodpecker that I thought of opening my birding app, Merlin. Merlin is this cool birding app that’s available for iPhones and Androids. One of the features is that you can tap Sound and it’ll record the bird songs and give suggestions on the type of bird in real time. It might not be 100% accurate, but it gives a pretty good idea about the diversity of birds all around. I’ve used this app all over, including on Maui and it’s amazing! I watched the screen scroll on by as Merlin worked feverishly to keep up with all the songs being sung. There were a number of them that I recognized and many that didn’t. 

I walked along the pond, Merlin taking its notes and at 10 minutes, decided to stop the recording. My first and longest recording identified 20 different birds! I paged through the identifications as I slowly walked about the playground area and back towards the car. Carolina Wren. Red-winged Blackbird. Yellow-rumpled Warbler. And there were the woodpeckers that started me on this path. Downy Woodpecker. Pileated Woodpecker. 

I had come back around the trail and was closing in on my parked car when another ‘voice’ made itself heard – a Barred Owl! I said hello as I passed by a woman and her dog, then I heard another bird call that was so unique that I had to see what Merlin would have to say. The sound continued and I knew it was really close by. Merlin didn’t disappoint. It was a Cooper’s Hawk! As I was trying to get a visual, I saw a large figure crossing above me. I lost him, then found him again. As I crossed the street, I saw him sitting on a pine limb way up high. It was almost as if he were waiting on me. I pulled out my camera and started hitting the shutter release. 

What brought me out that morning was nothing less of a calling out to me. Nature’s secret weapon is seduction through its boundless beauty, each day a little different than the day before. What would be waiting for me as I walked out that door? I’m told that one part of having a daily spiritual practice is to find something that brings you peace, then commit to doing it at least for a half-hour each day. Certainly for me, going outside is one of those things that brings me peace. To some degree, I have to bring some of that with me or at least a willingness to listen and let the outside world take care of itself for a little while.

I lowered my camera and just stood there looking up at the hawk. In just a short hour, I had come across so many species, some that I could see, others that excited me just to hear their song. I could have stayed outside all morning. I crossed the street and climbed into my car, then headed back home. Pulling into the farm, I climbed out of my car and quickly heard it: birds singing out loud and leading the choir was a hawk that I knew to be a Red-shouldered Hawk. I pulled out Merlin anyway to record it for one of those days that seemed to drag on forever. Now, one day in the future, I can pull out that recording and  think back to that morning jaunt and recapture the wonder of that day and feel the serenity knowing I’m not alone. 

Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

—Mary Oliver

Time and again, I’m reminded of the fragility of life. I’ve learned specifically that as I age, more and more I have to pay attention to my body and to respond to its needs. At times when I have certain body aches come along I know I need to stretch or I have to exercise. Foot pain? Stretch those hamstrings and calves (hip flexors would be good too). Lower back? Same. Time and again, it comes down to the simple things. My wrist or hand hurts? A wrist pad to support that mouse action can make a difference. And for God’s sake! Put down that cellphone!

That I experience these discomforts once in a while is a gift. 

I finished the last assignment to complete my Bachelor’s Degree on a Sunday night at the end of August. The year was 2014. I did it! It’s tough work trying to complete a major life goal like this while still working full time. And there was my involvement with the Sierra Club. I did scale back my activities but my involvement with The Club is what inspired me to complete my degree. I planned on celebrating with dinner at a nice restaurant the following Saturday night.

When the next weekend rolled along, Saturday morning found me working in West Columbia. There was an after-hours project scheduled and I needed to be there to oversee some vendors doing some work for us. The job completed, I headed home and was able to get in a quick nap before cleaning up and heading to the celebration. I don’t recall much about getting that nap in or getting ready. I vaguely remember sitting at a stoplight and I was likely a little behind for the 6 PM meetup at The Wilcox. As it turned out, I would be really late. Like a year late. That evening as I went through the intersection of the bypass, Silver Bluff and Pine Log, I was hit on the passenger side of my Jeep Wrangler. Before my vehicle stopped, it went over the hood of one car and hit another. The offending driver was under the influence and he hit me at 70 MPH. I slowly woke the next day, wiggled my toes and fingers and knew I’d be okay.

So much could have gone wrong that night. Perhaps if I would have been going slower, or faster, maybe the hit would have left me more damaged. Or maybe he would have hit someone else that was older and maybe not as strong. Grace saw to it that an ambulance station, two in fact, was less than a mile away. And it was grace that stopped a well-meaning bystander from pulling me, prematurely, out of my vehicle. As things were, the paramedics didn’t know if I was going to make it to the hospital or not. Eight days later, I walked out of what I still call MCG. The injuries? A collapsed lung and a concussion. I was beat up for sure, but all things considering, I was lucky to be alive.

I think back to that time 11 years ago from time to time, especially at times when I hear an ambulance whiz by with sirens blasting. Sometimes it’s just a thing. Sometimes I choke down tears. 

I also think about this story when tragedy hits close to home like today. In the late morning, I had a doctor’s appointment and I headed my way to the office. I was annoyed to find that the bypass leading to Wire Road was blocked by a Sheriff’s car. I navigated around that and got to my destination on time. I noticed on the way back that the road was still blocked. I scratched my head and thought, what on earth are they doing? Aiken has seen a lot of road construction over the past several years, along with other infrastructure projects and I assumed that this closure was related to that. It wasn’t. When I got to my office, I learned that a co-worker in my building had died in a head-on collision with a semi this morning. I was dumbfounded. Surely this can’t be true. It slowly sinked in. I would often bump into him in the kitchen as we both sought out coffee to start our day. On other occasions, we’d stroll out the back door. I’d known this man, who was only 40, for the better part of 18 years. Not super close, just casual. I knew him enough that I saw him growing and making changes in his life. He was a husband and a father and now they will have to move forward in life without him. Do the circumstances matter? If we knew what happened the moment before the collision, would it change anything? 

I turned 61 earlier this year and I’m still curious about what happened to that last decade. I heard someone say once that the years click by pretty fast, but some days seem to drag on and on and on. So true. While some days do seem to last for weeks at a time, it’s those times when I do have some choices about where to go and what to do that really squeeze the juice out of life for me. My mother, a first generation American, had a big case of wanderlust. With siblings located in the four corners of the country, we would hit the road in that great American pastime “The Summer Vacation”. And we did. From Michigan to California, Washington, Arizona and back through the southern part of the country in a big loop. These experiences weren’t lost on me. Somewhere in my mind, I decided in my late 30s, early 40s that if there was something I wanted to do that I had better do it. This has led me to Alaska, the Redwoods in California, New Mexico and places in-between. Mostly on a shoestring budget. 

It was also in my 40s that I knew that feelings were impermanent. If I were to go on one adventure after another, would that really be satisfying? My only concern being ME, ME, ME? I remember coming across this quote that said,  “I slept and dreamt that life was joy. I awoke and saw that life was service. I acted and behold, service was joy.” I don’t know who Rabindranath Tagore is but this idea stuck with me and I invested myself in conserving the natural world that I had come to love from the travels, the camping, hiking, and paddling I had done. 

As has often been the case, when I’ve invested myself in something, I don’t go half-way. It’s all or nothing and for the past 11 months, nothing is where I’ve found myself as I’ve sought to bring balance in my life and take care of myself. I’ve seen our world slipping away these past 5, 6 or more years due to climate change, but also seeing the destruction of our lands by greedy developers. I’m a passionate, talented and robust character. As I saw this level of development descend on the CSRA and I knew I had to speak out. Not all growth is good growth and being mindful of what we want our community to look like is critical. “Where there is no vision, the people parish”. In following these passions, I drove myself into the ground. I will return to speak out for those that can’t speak or those that feel they might not have a voice at some point. For now, self-care is my focus. 

In recent weeks, I’ve been going through old photos trying to cull those that don’t make the cut, as well as some duplicates.  I’m so fortunate to have created some beautiful memories! Some of those memories have been solo journeys, some with friends. And some of those friends are no longer here and have left too soon. I pause and reflect on those warm memories filled with love and friendship, missing those I won’t see on this earth. Then I know it’s time to start looking for that next adventure. What river or lake awaits me and that 14 foot Wenonah Wilderness? How many days & nights could I disappear at a time? What will I plan on doing with this one wild and precious life?

The poet Emily Dickinson once wrote, “Hope is the thing with feathers” and as we see the world events crashing around us, I say that hope will never soar unless we stretch our wings. Hope, like faith, may be a thing we feel, but in my experience, it’s a muscle that must also be worked.

Apparently, I’m not the only one to feel such sentiment. Krista Tippett, host of the radio program turned podcast “On Being”, is producing a series on hope. If you know of her work, she’ll be talking with a variety of guests and a couple of questions that she has posed over time has been, “What is making you despair, and what is giving you hope?”. Just as there is a Chinese symbol that represents both crisis and opportunity, what she has discovered is that the very thing about hope and despair is that they are uniquely linked.

The series just started and episodes will be released weekly, the third having been published yesterday. And just as it is with all things wise, you can listen to the episodes and may learn something or feel inspired, but to more deeply explore the topic of hope, there’s work to do. Ms. Tippett suggests in the first episode to follow along and to take the suggested actions listed at the bottom of the podcast, which comes down to writing out the exercises, preferably with paper and pen.

Hope is to me kind of like gratitude. When my mindset is on all the things I’ve so gratefully experienced, whether it’s the deep friendships I’m surrounded by, the beauty I’ve experienced in our natural world, or the chance that things have worked out for me in ways I couldn’t have crafted by myself, I know I must come back to gratitude (hope?) when things are at their darkest. Stepping into that place is like opening a door to an unexplored room and I finding resources unavailable to me before that act.

Looking out over the Rockies from Estes Park, Colorado