An Album - Shooting the Average, One Fine Early Spring Day

St. Vrain Greenway. Got out the iPhone. Decided to shoot the ordinary today.

And so we begin.

 

Better like this. Because no motor vehicles. Nice that the whole walk is not almost allowing MVs.

Sweet Willa took this shot of me and Phoebe.

 

Shy smile, hiked up mermaid shirt, dirty cords.

 

Thanks, nurses walking along the path. Cheesy.

Good day to the shadow cracks.

Filters and filtered light, tree, sun.

What's up 1974? Sweet teeth! I bite...

My fav wall. Flagstone an industry around here.

Shadow hands of my kids, embracing me with their shadow hands amidst my old shoe.

 

Look at this sprockety spike fescue, acting wild against the river's edge. While house cranes roof to see from background.

 

Another shot from Willa; she wanted to capture the sparkles in the river. Did she?

We stop and hunt for heart-shaped rocks, probably shipped in from somewhere and milled to specs. Note the right angles of suburban shadows; we are not wild.

This looks good!

 

What is a walk with my darling head children on this path without card without stopping at Left Hand Brewery for some pretzels? Alas, we cannot get in.

But we see that birds take residence nearby to the pretzel and beer place. They make nests and live in trees like normal, but include plastic in their homes. Like we do! We are not wild, or this is wild?

 

Love this flavor.

Just a logo.

Fire color under the bridge; sweet surprise. Willoree remarked that the river must be getting a lot of exercise bc it's always moving. Joggers pass by.

Above that bridge is the sign that backwards people can read.

This is too close to Papyrus to remark without a little bit of uuguh.

My total favorite rusted metal pole. OMG.

Path leads to home, across the lake, past wild rose and a rock crushing factory. The mesh is a JUST SAY NO TO BEAVERS ideology; surrounding some trees.

Keeps me in, keeps me around.

Foot foot.

Roses hip me.

 I have two hips.

She has two hips.

Cattails have no hips. Do you see what monochromatic pre-spring Colorado is doing to me? Nuances are everywhere, like motorcycles.

Walks take a long time with a Pilgrim who's bent on taking it all in, every step. I sing many songs.

Juniper.

Longs Peak.

That rock cement making factory alluded to a few back. Great work, guys!

That's our house across the lake -- house: you know who you are! Holla!!

Trees that were once young, and upwardly mobile, then went through the fence, then got choked and girdled but absorbed the fence anyways and kept on growing, mildly deformed according to some...not to me.

 

1/3 panorama ...

... 2/3 panorama ...

... 3/3 panorama

What's a barrio these days without Mexican horses?

These tracks are bound for glory.

You don't see the hand; it's holding mine.

Time to plant, weed, make-shift table at home. Tomorrow...

We get home, take off our shoes, welcome wagon style to the kitchen for a late lunch and, later, some gum. I water seedlings, get Phoebe down for a nap. Ponder, wash a dish, work a minute, download.

Lastly, I just re-read these FOUR IMMEASURABLES, as a means to an invite of dedication. To what? To whatever! On my knees for this or that reason, or walking around, and of course in my various seats, while spreading peanut butter, filling the gas tank watching the price get so high, tapping this keyboard. May it be so! Om Shanti on the 3x.

May all sentient beings have equanimity, free from attachment, aggression and prejudice. 
May they be happy, and have the causes for happiness. 
May they be free from suffering and causes for suffering. 
May they never be separated from the happiness that is free from suffering. (3x)

Almetto's Labyrinth...

My step-father, Tom Schulz, recently completed a compelling project in Charlotte, NC. He's an artist, and much of his work is creating Labyrinths made of stained concrete. This one was for a remarkable woman named Almetto Howey Alexander. I am sending congratulations! And I badly want to go to Charlotte next week and walk it, walk it with my children, and give this woman and big hug. Tom writes,

What is your dream?

Almetto Howey Alexander dreamed of a Labyrinth in 2002. She stayed the course until she walked the path. What is your dream, Pilgrim? And where does your journey take you? To Healing. And Meditation. To Education. And Community. Walk your every walk with Almetto. We need all the good we can get. Now and evermore. Thank you.



From my aunt Mary's web site, which is devoted to educating and fundraising for this project:
 
About the Design of the Labyrinth

In November 2007, Almetto Alexander attended the opening of the Jack Matney Memorial Labyrinth Courtyard, where she met Tom Schulz, the artist who designed and built the labyrinth and prayerwall located at Presbyterian Hospital's center courtyard.

In 2009, Artist Tom Schulz prepared a proposal for the labyrinth. He designed a specific labyrinth that, while based on the conventional eleven-circuit pattern, speaks to the ancient African origins of the labyrinth. His studies and to-scale painting interpret aspects of Almetto Howey Alexander's life journey through personalized symbolism, imagery and color. The top goal for 2010 is to raise $51,000 to prepare the location, pour the substrate, and to employ EnnisArts, LLC to bring the labyrinth to completion. [read more...]

“The labyrinth is my dedication to the Washington Heights [in the historic west end district of Charlotte, NC] community to inspire people of all ages to find a peaceful place to reflect, refocus, heal, meditate, find peace of mind and pray," says Mrs. Alexander.

Why I Love Hairdryers, and a Holler Bach to Trista.

And I never, ever use them. UNLESS

I go to the gym...which I never, ever do, UNLESS

I magically get a free pass to go to a really nice gym, in which case, I'll do it nightly for the five consecutive nights gifted to me and get my sweat on until the pass runs out. (I did this in Bend, OR, too with Ben's sister and loved it -- thanks, Tia!) When I get an extra $$$ I'll spend it on gym membership, I think, because I learn through these experiences that I am fond of gyms. That's news to me. Shout out to Haven for the 5-day pass to the nice gym in Boulder.

Two discoveries:

1) Trista Hollerbach the yoga teacher.

Hands down one of the most seasoned, rooted, inspiring and excellent yoga classes I've been to in a good while. I love it when teachers offer real, deeply investigative inspiration to court the divine. She did this so naturally, and so accessibly! No pretense, no barriers; all shakti, confidence, love and union. She teaches a (very well attended) class at the Colorado Athletic Club on Tuesday nights, 5PM. I'm not alone in saying I think I love this lady, I love her so, and just being around her is a grounding, whole-body invitation to a deeper love affair with my practice.

A couple of times tears of relief fell off my cheeks during class. Love those. When and if I ever teach my own classes, she is who I want to emulate. Her class was challenging, flowy, slow but fast enough, fast but slow enough, and peppered with her insights, suggestions and easy encouragement. The wisdom of the season shone through. She gave us a recipe. The music was almost as good as the music that Isha plays during her classes...

Trista has a lot of initials after her name, none of which I know anything about, but I gather she is a sex therapist in addition to a yoga teacher. Sex therapists: a noble and fascinating gift to humankind. Oh, the places we can go!

I am so, so very grateful for all of my wonderful yoga and meditation teachers, to my comrades, my peeps, this morning. You know who you are!

2) Hairdryers make me cry? WTF!

Turn them on: they remind me of getting ready for a date. (What are those, again?) It was Friday night, the ladies at the gym stood in front of mirrors drying their hair, mostly naked at least from the waist up. Naturally beautiful and readying themselves for supper? Or their first walk around town in the early spring? Maybe meeting their husbands of 20, 25 years in town for a meal? Beauty.

I fantasized: these gals were feeling strong enough and well cared for, juicy and alive and in love. Pleased. Routines serve these women. Sweating and taking the time to flex in and out of changing musculature good. Setting goals, being human, dealing with screwy issues at work, budget changes, sick kids, dying parents, pending divorce, maybe not?, a broken toe, grocery lists.

Mingling with these women I decided to take the time to slather my with lotion and dry my own hair; it was like vacation. Fucking transcendent. I was transported. Where was I going? Not on a date, but home...where we had leftovers and the girls were almost asleep, Ben on the sofa working on an estimate. Quella eager to say hello. It was not date night, but my heart sang loud and smiled on the inside and opened, and opened again, for when the real date night(s) come. This is enough for now, though, and I can extract the good and be with it easily.

I do look forward to the time when Ben and I will be able to work out together, co-sweat yo, then meet up for a nice supper in town after showering and doing locker room things. This is how I see ourselves when we're in our '50s. It's a sustaining and happy vision.

Yeah, What She Said

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us most.

We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and famous?' Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world.

There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that people won't feel insecure around you. We were born to make manifest the of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in all of us. And when we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.

As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

~ Marianne Williamson

Happy Birthday to Phoebe Rosalie -- she turned one yesterday.

 

Sally Kempton: Meditation for the Love of It

Someone: please turn down the lights! No, actually don't! Great, great, OMG great book. Dive in, invite change, get started. Nice job Sounds True and Haven Iverson, editor.

So much heart, so much heart. She's got it. Tenderness, openness, gentleness, excellent beyond belief skills as a writer, tremendous brains and dedication, really good ideas and direction.

I honor you, Sally. Meet you soon...

Hut Trip - Thanksgiving 2010 - Minimal Adventure as Four

Indeeeeeed. Shrine Mountain Inn. Jay's Cabin. Thursday, Friday and Saturday. Cross country skied in (well most of us) with turkey, stuffing, squash, green beans, tons of eggs, oatmeal, brie, spinach, loaves of bread, condiments, winter gear, more warm stuff, slippers, bedding, ingredients for a French apple tart, for God's sake! Jay's cabin is an accommodating place for families with kids -- running water, flushing toilets, comfy mattresses, plenty of windows, nice dishes, wood for the fire. The four of us and two other families made this gorgeous spot up off Vail Pass our home for the weekend. I'm so glad we went. Maybe too glad, like I couldn't sleep glad. Or maybe I just can't sleep at 11,500 feet.

This was my first hut trip. Phoebe is 9 months old and Willoree 4 years old and although I'm used to things taking time, effort, etc. because adventure for four is such work when you get to the work part of it, I am still somewhat in awe at how much planning this ordeal took. I'm not very good at planning, but I enjoyed it anyways.

I don't particularly enjoy getting ready for car camping (which we do a fair amount of), or cooking/packing for festival weekends (annually, at least,) but -- staring at our strange Tetris-y piles of gear, used backpacks, goggles, etc. all over the house -- I came to enjoy planning this hut trip. The newness? Or maybe the immense challenge of wearing or dragging everything your family will need for three days up a long hill? Boundaries and edges, in all creative pursuits, make the processes more magical and interesting. Here I admit that I'm an editor, I love editing. Mostly other people's stuff. A bad habit -- ? I guess I have that kind of editing, revisionist, let me tell you what you just said in my own words kind of mind, even though I write unedited blogs like this one in a chop chop block annoying style and they're very run on sentence-y and probably choreful to read. Also I have gained a renewed appreciation for the guys in A Walk in the Woods.

We are a CO family of four and we hadn't gone up to the huts yet! And now that's all changed. I hope this trip to Shrine Mountain is the first of many. I cherish great adventures into the quiet, snowy CO beauty that sticks it to my heart and soul every time. I am growing more in love with Colorado as the years pass. I sing here, Colorado sings back.

Photos below.

 

Thanksgiving meal arrival night. We didn't have to carry the cast iron. Man that stuffing looks good.

 

Leland kind of altitude weary, but that doesn't stop little children from pestering him but then looking real cute.

 

Ina Garten loves this dessert, too. I could crunch a Granny Smith right now!

 

Baby Fatima.

Willoree and Rowan.

 

Bob is alseep. He's generally very agro CO active.

 

My dream is to have a wood stove, otherwise this is like the old lady who had those shoes in the nursery rhyme or something.

 

Lelend feeling better, picks up book to read to children under blue sleeping bag with logs behind heads.

 

Porch drops off into where the skis are parked.

 

The trail coming up to Jay's cabin. This is a lot of snow for November. I want to be snow when I grow up.

 

Welcome wagon shot.

 

Where I would have liked to have spent the entire trip, basically. The fired stoked and soon the room hit 185 degrees. Swank!

 

Footprints in the sand. God is here, too.

 

And here. 

 

And there, especially in that old skool metal can that says "ashes only".

 

The path to someplace that's also pretty.

Crane your neck or these children will fall down the blog!

 

Dream, dream.

 

Ella Rowan and Willoree.

 

Alpenglow (from German: Alpenglühen) is an optical phenomenon. When the Sun is just below the horizon, a horizontal red glowing band can sometimes be observed on the opposite horizon. Alpenglow is easiest to observe when mountains are illuminated but can also be observed when the sky is illuminated through backscattering.

Since the Sun is below the horizon, there is no direct path for the light to reach the mountain. Instead, light reflects off airborne snow, water, or ice particles low in the atmosphere. It is this circumstance that separates a normal sunrise or sunset from alpenglow.

Although the term may be loosely applied to any sunrise or sunset light seen on the mountains, true alpenglow is not direct sunlight and is only observed after sunset or before sunrise.

In the absence of mountains, the aerosols in the eastern portion of the sky can be illuminated in the same way by the remaining red scattered light straddling the border of the Earth's own shadow (the terminator). This back-scattered light produces a red band opposite the Sun.

The above Wiki courtesy www.

 

The active Bob, with a snow head.

 

A portrait. 

 

Nice chatty and comfortable set up. I liked that this hut didn't have a ton of stuff, per se, but the stuff it did have was nice. And useful. And of excellent condition and quality.

 

Well shit! It's a bananagram! 

 

I made a fort /cage for Phoebe with materials and furniture from the downstairs room.

 

Willoree has begun to smile sans showing teeth. Not Rowan! I do love these two so very much.

 

Oats for the little birdies.

 

Me and my whatever looking that way close up?

 

Peace and trekking thank god it was downhill most of the way home. 

 

Sorry, shadowed children in the sled are hard to peep in on. There are two girls in there. They did great.

------------

Merci, bonne nuit, la hut! Le turkey? Oui, je ne sais pas du frommage!! On y va, et alors, tout de suite les femmes des apres bon visage en la mache prix!! Eh eh eh, plus de Chatres.

Fin.

I swear; she does not.

Mama, is yummy yummy in my tummy a bad word? Well, kid, I know the days of this brand of innocence are numbered and to your question I reply no. And we leave it be.