The Redwood Forest

Go ahead.  Sing it.  "From the Redwood Forest, to the Gulf Stream waters, this land was made for you and me."

Welcome to my world.  This little gem has been boring a hole in my head for days now.  But I will take it, yes I will.  Because there is something so majestic, so gorgeous, so ancient and so amazing about The Redwoods that my brain is a paltry sacrifice to such an altar!

Coming down from Oregon into California I could tell when we changed states.  No really.  It is that different.

I'm not sure what it is that is different.

It just is.

And then we came to the Redwoods.

I could not stop staring.  

Or singing.

Joe was always disappearing around some bend.

Grove after grove.

The gorgeousness filled all my senses.

There is a peace in these forests.

An ancient peace.

And I felt like I could be part of it.

If I could just get still enough.

And what is not as obvious here as it is in real life,

is that when an old tree dies ...

or even if a young tree dies ...

a family arises around it, like sentinels,

almost guarding it's memory

and feeding off their common root system.

I found that profound.

Like a blessing.

And a lesson.

Dad

It's Father's Day and I pause to think of my own Dad and what a powerful force he has been in my life.

He was always the biggest, the strongest, the bravest and the funniest of all the Dads in the neighborhood.

He was "Uncle Bobby" to anyone under 21, and he always seemed to have time for them ... and for his own five kids.

He told corny jokes, had a high tenor voice and built things from the ground up.  Like houses.  And fireplaces.  He was a brick mason by avocation.  He became a lobbyist for the Commercial Seafood industry, and continues to be passionate and effective to this day.

My dad hasn't changed all that much.  He is still corny, and funny; still the biggest, strongest and bravest man I know.

He is now a grandfather and a great-grandfather.  He and my mother have been married 55 years and their love for each other is a brightly shining light, that draws amazement and brings joy to anyone who passes near.  I've been lucky to grow up in the presence of such love.

My dad values God, family and country.  He is the most patriotic person I know.  It all arises out of the same heart - a heart that loves big,  loves much and loves forever.  That is the greatest gift he has passed on to me:  Love with abandon, there is always enough love to give just a little more.

Happy Father's Day, Dad.  Thank you ... for everything!

The Oregon Coast

We drove south from Seattle, with a feeling of pride and joy in our daughter's graduation ... and a kind of balmy bliss enfolding us. 

It might have been the BBQ pork we had for lunch.

Because after about 30 minutes on I-5 south we were restless, irritable and discontent.  Having traveled over 4,000 miles and less than 100 of it on Interstates we have become accustomed to a slower pace, and a gentler ride. 

Our patience worn thin, we were richly rewarded when we pulled onto the 101 in Astoria, OR.  This would be home, for the next 3 1/2 days ... with many forays off onto small spurs, beautiful vistas and long walks on the Oregon Coast Trail. 

Pulling into Seaside around dinner we enjoyed a cool, misty walk and a warm welcome from this quirky beach town.

We planned our walk for the following morning - they have an 8,000 foot Promenade!  Then we hit Pudgy's for some seafood. 

Probably should have picked up this treasure when I had the chance, don't you think?

From Seaside we drove south to Cannon Beach, much tonier and we took another walk through the town.  Great coffee ... who's surprised about that?

We were rather amazed by the big rocks that cropped up at the shoreline ... reminded me of Hawaii a little bit.  I tried to get lots of pictures because who knew when we'd get to see such an amazing site again.

Right.

If you've been to the Oregon Coast ... it is littered with these beautiful, eerie, exotic basalt rocks!  If you ever have about three days I'll be glad to show you all my pictures of them :)

Suffice it to say, it's beautiful!
And, for Floridians, we seem to know a lot of people who are from the Oregon Coast - why would you leave??

These are just a few of the images that took our breath away as we drove from Seaside down to Newport.  There we walked along the picturesque harbor, and then had probably the best dinner since The Fountain Room at the Four Seasons in Philadelphia!

Dungeness Crab, Scallops, Oysters, Halibut!  Fantastic!!  (they ship!)

All in all another fabulous day.

From Newport we continued along US 101 South, toward Gold Beach.  With many side trips.

Including a kind of up-and-down (down first then lots of up) walk at Devil's Churn.

Followed by a weird drive through some amazing Sand Dunes.

Trust me when I tell you that this picture does NOT give the proper perspective!

This hill was so huge, that the last 10 feet I almost had to crawl.

Really.

I thought I was going to die.

To see the nesting Snowy Plovers, which I did not get a glance of.

We then had a 1.5 mile walk at a Nature Preserve, which was beautiful. 

Slightly hilly.

If you're counting this is the THIRD hike of the day.

I'm feeling both virtuous and exhausted.

Saw some beautiful Bald Eagles, and two Stellar's Jays.

Lark Buntings serenaded us, which was very nice indeed.

We also saw many Sea Lions... and elk ... and tiny chipmunks.

We finished our night with a beautiful sunset, followed by an episode of

Deep Space Nine ... and I fell asleep like a rock...

with our sliding door open, listening to the waves.

Very nice.

Our last hike in Oregon was fantastic!

Again on the Oregon Coast Trail - we got some beautiful vistas:

This was taken around 10:30 am ... and before lunch we were in the Redwood National Forest!

(But THAT is another whole matter entirely!)

I've left out so much - but I think this will keep me straight on the days, 

and I can fill in the thoughts and feelings, the ideas and the amazement 

when I get home.

Eventually.

A Pause

In our travels we took a pause in Seattle.  Turns out it was exciting, dramatic and heartwarming as well.
We had the pleasure of watching our daughter, Anna, graduate from college.

We've been going to Seattle for the last 15 years.  Usually in August, usually to go to their very fine opera performances.

When this darling daughter was searching for colleges we were encouraging her to stay east - NY or Boston.  She chose Seattle.  She was rather determined.

So off she went, to Seattle University.  We were skeptical - not so much of the education, as it is a Jesuit school.  But of her commitment to living so far from home, and her willingness to brave those inevitable hurdles of growing up by herself with no family around.  She is adventurous, and she has had experiences of living away from home ... but still.

We were gratefully proven wrong on all counts.  She thrived there.  And her ability to grow, mature and handle life deepened in ways that may have taken much longer if we'd been geographically closer.  So she has been able to come through traumatic and tragic events, difficult academic situations, and navigate her love life ... and graduate Magna Cum Laude.  I have to say that she is pretty awesome.

We're so lucky.  And immensely proud of her.  And the world is incredibly fortunate to have this woman hitting the ground running!

Congratulations Anna! There is nothing you cannot do!!

The Cascades

We left our little oasis at The Sun Mountain Lodge early this morning, around 6 am, to drive into Seattle.  They were kind enough to pack us a breakfast-to-go and fill our coffee mugs, and off we went.

My friend Maria, from Philadelphia, had told me about the North Cascades National Park and how we should drive through it on our way to Seattle.  Gorgeous, she said, and no one there.  Well, she was absolutely right!! 

Our first views were spectacular!  The clouds, the snow, the jagged peaks.  We saw dozens of mule deer by the side of the road.  But not a single car.  For two hours!

We stopped for breakfast at Diablo Lake ... it is beautiful.  There was a small pavilion with some seats and wonderful views.

The temperature was about 41 degrees, so I was bundled up in three sweaters, eating (the world's most delicious granola) through chattering teeth.



We continued on our way and were amazed at the rapidly shifting weather.  Clouds and sun, blue sky and misty rain that with just a slight drop would have been snow flakes.

Not a lot of talking during the four hour trip into Seattle.  Mostly we just stared in wonder, in awe.  It felt so remote, and so rugged.  Such beauty.  

And if you're like us, and prefer to feel as if you might be the only person there - rather than trucking along in the middle of a long line of rubber-neckers at Yellowstone, then do like Maria said ... and go see The Cascades.

From There To Here

When we began planning our trip we were focused on things we’d like to see, places we’d like to go, and where we could find the coolest summer weather.  We threw around ideas like Quebec, Mackinac Island,  Banff.  We  enjoy State and National Parks, pleasant walks in downtown parks and along rivers, we like history and places that we’ve read about in books.  We like going back to places where we’ve been - if the food is good, and the beds were comfortable.We knew we had about eight weeks to play with, probably being on the road for about four.  It seemed like a reasonable plan.

Then, through a series of events around us we found ourselves with some new parameters:  a funeral in May, a graduation in June and a conference in July.  The “bad” thing was they were in Pennsylvania, Seattle and San Antonio.  Our trip was doomed!  Our plans were scotched!  Our budget was blown!  We’d be flying all over creation rather than having a lovely little vacation.

Or maybe....?

Joe began thinking of a way to do this, and before long we had a new plan. Plan B was “Do It All.”  (Isn’t that always Plan B?)  Leave Florida in late May and head up the east coast, turning left at Philadelphia and then driving to Seattle for the graduation.  Then left again, down to San Francisco (how about an opera?) and over the Sierra Nevadas in to San Antonio July 1 ... and then home! 

It began to seem doable and so we set off.  One of the very nicest developments was the addition of family to our itinerary.  We met up in Washington DC (Joe was in NYC and I took the Auto Train) and luckily my sister and her husband moved there recently.  They joined us for an evening out in Cambridge, MD on the Chesapeake bay where we sampled Crab Cakes and cool breezes as the sun went down.  We sat in large rockers, watching the sky turn pink and purple and the water darken.  The gulls circled slowly in the sky and  even though it wasn’t cold, we could have had a nice bonfire (especially after Laurie and I had seen the S’mores kits at the concierge desk).  We exhibited great restraint and did NOT buy the kits to eat without fire.

From there we drove to Philadelphia where I got to visit some landmark historical sites and a good friend! We stayed near Logan Square and had some wonderful city walks as well as fabulous dinners.  And then we headed west, across the Allegheny Mountains into Sharon, PA.  Joe was born here many moons ago, as was his father before him.  Joe’s dad, also named Joe, was a pilot in the Army during WWII and died in a crash in September 1944, just three months before his son was born.  The funeral we would attend was that of his aunt, the oldest sibling of his dad.

We were welcomed with open arms by cousins, aunts, uncles, friends and other relatives.  There were tables laden with food - most of it traditional Slovak dishes - and coolers of cold soda, pots of coffee and a large tent with tables and chairs on the grass.  After a lovely Mass in honor of Aunt Aggie, we all went back to the house to reminisce, to tell stories, to listen, to laugh, to hug.  There were some emotional encounters with family members. A chance to listen to the elders who were, back then, the youngers. We felt connected to the Wellers, Mihalcins, Zreliaks...and others. 

From Sharon we drove to Columbus, OH.  What a great college town.  We met up with Joe’s cousin (on his mom’s side this time) for dinner at a neat little restaurant and had a chance to reminisce again, over a time not quite as long gone by... and to catch up with our families and children and pets and travels. 

From Columbus it was on to Urbana, IL (another cousin on his mom’s side) and another wonderful dinner with grown kids, sad stories of loss and passionate discussions of earthquakes and oil spills. We had the pleasure of congratulating a couple of recent college grads (a BS and a PhD) and again the feeling of family and connection was both heartwarming and convivial.

Moving through the midwest we headed north toward Minneapolis and met up with Joe’s sister and her husband for a delightful pizza dinner.  Even though it was the last week of school (she is a teacher) and she was feeling ill, Barbara and Alan were wonderful hosts and it was such a pleasure to have a simple dinner, catching up and laughing and enjoying each other’s company.  Their daughter lives in California, and their son is in active duty with the US Navy in the Middle East.  I was quite moved by the Active Duty star on her collar.  He should be home August 15 - which just happens to be her daughter’s birthday.  How cool is that?

We headed west then ... toward Seattle.  Our middle daughter will graduate from college on June 13.  What a blessing!  What a day!  But between Minneapolis and Seattle we have a lot to see, a lot to explore.  Fargo, The Badlands, Helena, MT,  Whitefish and Glacier, and then Idaho. Some repeats from our trip last year, some new spots which are now favorites!

Today we have stopped for a full day.  No driving.  We are in the Methow Valley, just east of the Cascades...in fact, we can see them from our balcony.  The rugged, immense peaks covered in snow.  Yet our little high-desert mountain is sunny, warm and breezy.  Birds galore!  I’ve seen a Varied Thrush, and a Purple Finch!  Two new species for me.   This particular mountain is criss-crossed with trails and we have taken numerous walks, amazed at the vistas.  The air is dry, the landscapes are gorgeous.  We are but 3 hours from Seattle.

Where we head tomorrow.  Into the city.  Graduation! Laundry! Celebration! Parking Hassles! Life in all its glory will present yet another face.  And tomorrow we will have made quite a journey - from the Chesapeake Bay to Puget Sound.  Much of it dotted with pearls of family connection, treasures for the memory.  Nothing extraordinary, just blessedly, humanly ordinary.

And then another turn.

Birding

I’m not a professional birder.  I never will be.  In my mind these people are thin, ancient with hooked-beak noses and translucent skin.  They all have blue eyes.  Rheumy, in a way, from staring through binoculars for hours at a time.  They can walk silently for hours, for miles, days at a time.  They can identify birds by call, by sight, within seconds of seeing a flash of darting feathers flit from tree to tree.  In the shadows.  They make notes, copious notes, and compare them with the notes they made previously.  They remember names.  They would never say Scaup unless they meant it.  They have one or two thousand species on their life lists.  They don’t sweat.  I’m sure there are also fabulously fit, gorgeous birders with binoculars that weigh 50 lbs that can see into bat caves, and these folks, too, can hike for days across desert or mountain without breaking a sweat, or mis-naming a warbler.

I’m sure they’re all very nice.  However, that’s not me.  I’m dumpy and trudge through the woods, and if there is an uphill (especially in altitudes above 2,000 ft) I huff and puff like the big bad wolf.  I often see birds but am also distracted by squirrels.  As well as the amazing, intricate and delicate flowers that line the path of the trail.  I see them because my head is bent down, under the weight of the binoculars and I’m doing everything I can to keep going.  Thoughts of bears flit through my mind - from corner to corner - with vivid images, usually based on the movie “Grizzly Man.”  I hear bird calls, and they make me smile, I love knowing the birds are there.  I feel their presence. But I don’t think that counts on life lists.

Every now and then all the elements coincide and I am standing still, I have my binoculars and a bird alights somewhere out in the open.  And voila!  I can see him (her?) through my lenses.  Up close, the strong beak, the quick, bright eyes.  The strong, skinny feet clutching a branch or a fence wire.  And on a particularly good day while I’m looking the bird will open it’s mouth and sing ... and I’m mesmerized.  I can hear it AND see it.  It is up close and amazingly real.

Real beyond just being there.  Real beyond just sensing it’s presence.

And, a couple of times I have been able to identify a new species while this is happening.  A yelloow-headed blackbird, a western meadowlark, a mountain chickadee.  Mostly, however, I say to myself “small, brown, there’s a stripe there by it’s eye...looks like its in the sparrow family ... maybe warbler...hmmm”  Yeah.  I’m not a professional.

Even in my outrageously amateurish participation in birding (and believe me, all you professionals I’m using that to describe my activities VERY loosely) every now and then I get a deep, gorgeous thrill when I see a bird .... I know it is one I have never seen before ... and from the depths of my memory I hear “Gray Jay” or “Green Winged Teal” ... and I’m right! 

But the thrill is not in being right.  The thrill comes in seeing, in really, truly seeing the bird. Opening my mind, my heart my life to the possibility that some wild creature may cross my path and I actually notice it.  I don’t get anything from it, no picture, no scaling up the ladder of life-lists, no pat on the back, no yummy meat for dinner.

Just a chance encounter with something so unique, so amazing, so complicated and so fabulous.  And all I have to do is stop.  Open my eyes.  And see. 

(This last photo is one that I actually took - and I think it is a Gray Jay ... there was a family of 5 ... and I'm still thrilled!)

Slowing Down

I've often felt, when flying to far-off locales, that I arrived and left bodily before my mind and heart even got there.  So I was operating under a kind of out-of-body experience.  Yes, I was there.  Sort of.  But it wasn't until after I got home - and had been home - that I finally felt the experience sink in.

I blamed it on the mode of travel.  Air travel gives this illusion that I can, and should, move very fast.  Except for the mess TSA has made of airports, the basic idea is that I should be able to pick myself up out of my southern, suburban environs and land in Budapest or Prague or Berlin in about 8 hours .... refreshed from a nice nap on the plane and ready to dive into another culture and all that it offers.

Whoa!  I love traveling, and have been luckier than most to have been all over the world.  But it never quite worked like that!  And, I felt like I was always running to catch up with "everyone else" who was.

Now that we're doing our traveling by car I've felt a little more present in the bodily experience.  I actually enjoy the transitions from one place to another.  I feel myself moving from one place to another, along a trajectory that is somewhat more logical and do-able.  And while I can't always identify what is actually growing in the field outside my window, I do recognize that it is something different from the last place.  Or not (I do have to say they grow a freaking LOT of corn in Illinois!).

And yet.

I have been traveling for two weeks now.  Awhile back, I left home and went to a conference in Ocala, which is about 3 hours south of where I live.  From there (or near there) I took the Auto-Train to Lortin, VA.  That was great ... train travel may not be fancy or exotic, but it is fun and it felt very efficient for me to be sleeping all night while my car and I were moved along I-95.

Joe met me at the train station and my car was off-loaded after about 30 minutes.  Much quicker than I had thought, and we were on our way.  We drove through the Chesapeake area over to Cambridge, MD where we spent an evening with my sister and her husband who recently moved to the area.

And thus began our Summer Trip.  A mixture of driving, talking, music, family, walking and sampling small town America.  Well, we went from Cambridge to Philadelphia, so it's not all small towns.  But we stay off of Interstates for the most part and stop when something interesting or funny or delicious catches our eye.

We're listening to a course from The Teaching Company called "America Before 1776" which has been fascinating and fun.

We've had Maryland Crab Cakes and Philly Cheesesteaks (about which, I learned, you don't use the word Philly).  We've seen Independence Hall and the Liberty Bell.  We ate at one of the best restaurants in our whole lives - The Fountain Room - overlooking Logan Square.

We spent Memorial Day Weekend in the tiny hamlet of Hermitage, PA where we attended a Memorial Mass for Joe's aunt who had passed away in January.  They interred her ashes in the same cemetery, and right next to, the plot where his dad is buried.  It was quite moving to be among relatives who knew his dad, and who were so grateful to meet Joe ... and could see his dad in him.  Sitting under a tent, in the back yard of a small house, sharing home-made food and listening to octogenarians share their memories and tales of the war, life and death has had a profound effect on us both.

Slowing down is good.  Good for the soul.  Good for the body. 

My blog is still about a week behind ... this fast paced world of the Internet is zipping along at lightning speed, connecting me and my kids and friends and continues to provide me the opportunity to know too much about too many things. 

After just a week of meandering through the Midwest, visiting with family we don't see very often, and sampling the home-made delights of various good cooks, I feel a palpable relief from the pressures and calls of information, disaster, frenzy and "necessity."

Slowing down feels possible.  And, I wonder if by the end of the trip my body, mind, soul and blog will all be in the same place, on the same day.

We'll see.