MOOSE, TOO !

I'm use to seeing  15 to 20 whitetail deer   and wild turkey  standing at the front  of our house  every  morning, they've been doing it for years -  patiently waiting  for my husband or me to bring out a   bucket of alfalfa and corn blend  to feed them their morning breakfast.

They  faithfully follow us as we place the blend on tree stumps, and scatter it along the rocky path.  One favorite buck, we named Buttons  is always first to greet us, and the first to eat. He prefers nibbling his  pellets  right out of the pail I hold in my hand.

My husband cautions me not to get too attached to the deer,  they are wild after all.  I know he's right.  But,  Buttons is special, a very dear deer you might say.  I could go outside right now, call his name and he'd come to me. Buttons often beds down on a pile of hay outside my study window, and when it's feeding time he  allows me to pet his muzzle.

As I said, it's not at all unusual to see deer, turkey, rabbits, porcupines - once even a raccoon out front. Today, however, we had two new wildlife guests - a mighty sized, magnificent moose and her calf.  The mama's dark chocolate brown color made me think of giant  chocolate bunnies at Easter time - but this moose was no edible candy, she was a marvelous creature of the wild;  Her beauty  awesome to behold.

I watched for the longest time as they stopped to nudge the cold muddy ground with their nose, or chew a piece of green on a leafless tree. They seemed in no hurry to move on,  but cautiously curious about this wooded place, even permitting  me  to to take a few pictures.  Eventually, as if concerned  she might wear out their welcome , Mama  Moose lifted her head and  twixt her ears, as if giving a signal it was time to go,  then  leisurely strolled away.  It didn't take long for  her  young  calf to quickly follow.  I can only hope we made them feel welcome, and they'll stop by to visit another day.


***  Included here is  youtube slideshow of Mama Moose &  Her Calf   (2 minutes)

The Better Way

                How often we seek to be acknowledged,
             to be important to those perceived   important
             in the eyes of the world .  Desiring recognition,
             and acclaim for some striven talent, monetary                                       
             riches or secular goal
             Better it is,  to cultivate a kindly heart, and 
             the practice of  life charitably  lived;  To experience                                              
             love of family and faithfulness of friends


Listed below a few favorite books about family & friends


* Life With Father  by Clarence Day
* Little Women   by Louisa May Alcott
* Mama's Bank Account by Kathyrn McClean
* Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austin
* The Forsyte Saga by John Galsworthy 
* Bee Season by Myla Goldberg


* Friendship Poems  (anthology by Peter Washington -  includes Emily Dickinson,W.H. Auden, Rudyard Kipling, Robert Frost & more) 

Lone Bird

                                                                     One lone bird
                                                                     silently sits  on
                                                                     a frozen branch
                                                                     of a leafless tree
                                                                    The earth below
                                                                    covered in powdery
                                                                    snow. Looming overhead
                                                                    a cold, grey sky; i watch
                                                                    the bird as she watches
                                                                    me - if i move too soon
                                                                    she'll fly away

Winter Beauty

Yesterday wind and sleet noisily slashed against the  shutters and awning outside our home,  rattling windows and doors.   Swoosh, swoosh, swash. I was reminded of the classic tale of the big bad wolf  huffing and puffing trying to blow down the house of each little pig . Thankful my house wasn't made of twigs or straw.

Today there is no wind. The  slow falling snow is soft and quiet. A peaceful snow blanketing the earth like a freshly laundered white cotton  sheet covering a newly made bed.  Deer gently stride by - their backs speckled with fluffy snowflakes.   I should be doing chores - dusting, cleaning, sweeping the floor but I'm caught in a trance, watching  the wonder of nature's winter beauty

January Cold

Cold January days
and  colder nights
bring snow and sleet
and slippery ice
Best to stay in
the shelter of
home, away from
cold gusty wind
and freezing temperature -
to sit in front of
fire's warmth
reading favorite poets
and   authors

Sudden Impact

 Yesterday morning  while enjoying  the cozy, comfortable atmosphere  at Java-  a favorite downtown Coeur d  Alene hangout  with local artwork and community billboards posted on  the walls,  my friend Liz and I slowly  drank  cappuccino's and  discussed  the latest theme of her current blog for Writing North Idaho,  A Watershed Moment

What prompted my friend's analysis was  Stephen King's current best selling novel, 11/22/63 about time travel, and  the assassination  of  President John F. Kennedy, and the  impact such events have on our national psyche.

Liz contends after  the killing of JFK,  America's children  lost their innocence. I don't disagree, but wonder if the same happened after the assassination's of Lincoln, Garfield and McKinley. Probably , but to a lesser degree. One reason might be because citizen's then  weren't  subjected  to seeing the horror of the President  being shot  live on their  television sets, then watching the replay over and over again.  For us growing up  in the age of Kennedy , there was no escape.  The image was forever embedded into our heart and mind.

 On her blog post Liz presents a well thought out list of  historical   watershed moments - both good and bad - including  the  birth of Jesus Christ and the Bolshevik revolution that made a  huge difference , and greatly changed the way people viewed, and responded to their environment.

I then began thinking more personally about  the  individual watershed moments that effect our lives -  the difficult, and challenging  like divorce , death of ones we love, an auto accident that kills two and critically injures three,  and how our lives are interrupted and abruptly switched  to another path without our consent or desire.   How it  becomes up to us, with the grace of God to adapt, accept, learn and grow. To forgive, overcome, make better. And if we can, to retain a tiny spark of innocence, and hope.


,

The New Year

 A week into the New Year,
with the promise of
resolutions made, and
lofty goals set, of
dreams dreamed and hope
for renewal  of mind,
body, spirit
like freshly  fallen snow
cleansing the land  -
moving toward spring and
new growth

Winter Moon

A white winter
moon, full and bright
shines  like a beacon's
light in the dark
of night.  A golden
glow, a single
row, streams across
the lake,  and gives
shadow to mountain
pines highlighted by
its radiant ray

Love

How much love can

our hearts  hold?
Overflow.

How much love can we

give away?
No  limit.

The gift of love freely

given has no cost or 

fee; Only our  time, 

sacrifice, and fond

remembrance

A Great Horned Owl, & Eagles

Early this morn
while still in
bed, before the light
of day, i heard
the mellow hoot of
a Great Horned
Owl ,
which brought to
mind migrating Eagles
i saw Sunday noon
at Higgins Bay
Magnificent, mighty,
purposeful,  they swiftly
soared through trees
to perch on the highest
ragged limb, far
from anyone's reach
Still and silent they
watched, and patiently
waited for just
the right time
to fish the lake

Tis the Season

What a wonderful season
Advent, the four weeks
 prior to Christmas
to help ready our
hearts in prayerful
meditation for the
birth of  the Wonder
Counselor, the Prince
of Peace, the  tiny
babe born in
Bethlehem,  son of Mary,
Christ the King

.......................

The tree is trimmed
and stockings hung,
presents are wrapped;
A wreath on the door
The sweet smell of
pumpkin bread and
cookies baking fill
 the kitchen  while
songs of Christmas are
heard throughout the house;
Frosty the Snowman,
Carol of the Bells, Silent 
Night and  It's the Most
Wonderful Time of the Year

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving Day traditions
perfectly unfold
with ol' Tom turkey
slowly cooking; Sweet potatoes,
mashed potatoes,  a green
bean casserole, cranberries
and creamed corn
Friend and family
gather at table
made festive with
familiar heirlooms from
two loving grandma's;
Organdie  dishes, and
gold plated flatware
We join  hands,
and lift our hearts to
 pray a prayer of
thanks for the gift
of each other, God's abiding grace,
and the bounty we share
For loved ones far away,
and those no longer
here -  All  sweetly remembered
as stories are told
Past memories held
dear, new memories  are born

Early Winter

The calendar says
Autumn; Thanksgiving Day
not yet here, but winter
has come, snow has
arrived, quietly falling
from a colorless
sky, covering north
Idaho with a cold,
frosty white - looking
like  Currier and Ives
at Christmas time.
The woods are
silent, no  sound
of bird, or critter
to be heard
Deer seek shelter
under heavily flocked
trees , trying to
keep warm  from
an afternoon temperature
of twenty-three degrees

Winter Approaching

Signs of winter weather
travelling this way, across
field and mountain
and farm and town are
seen in  low hanging clouds, in
a sky of charcoal gray;
Of cold wind whipping
through northern pine trees,
twisting limbs  like the
sway of a hula dancer,  and migrating
birds flying south.  Maple's
dropping their colorful leaves,
covering the ground
like a red and yellow
blanket; Morning  frost on the
doorstep, and late afternoon
like the dark of night

A Sorrow Shared (Mike and Walt)

When Susan called my cell so early in the morning I knew something was wrong. I had anticipated she was calling to tell me her 96 year old mother, whose health has been declining in recent months had passed away. I wasn't prepared to hear it was her oldest brother, Mike.  My eyes welled with tears, I wanted to hug  my life long friend, to be with her,  and share her sorrow.

While I  listened   to  Susan  telling    me the sad  details of   Mike's death, that he  suffered a fatal heart attack ,  my mind flipped back  eighteen months earlier  when  I was the one making the phone call,  to tell Susan my  brother,  my Walt had died.   Like Mike, from a  massive heart attack.

Throughout our conversation,  I couldn't seem to escape a single  image  locked in  memory's  view  -  a picture from 1963,  an 8 x10 photo.  Camp Little Green Valley. Southeast YMCA.   Susan's  brother, Mike,   a camp counselor is  standing in the back row -  my  brother, Walt,  sitting in the front row.

I thought of those years so long ago,  Mike  working   at his dad's hamburger stand across the street from our apartment on Heliotrope, Walt  still riding his bike, and playing cowboy and Indians with neighborhood kids. Susan and I not yet in high school,   but walking home from   school together . Meeting each afternoon at the corner  of the  different grade schools we attended - Susan's  Zion Lutheran , and my  St. Rose of  Lima.  I thought about how our lives   intersected, as did the lives of our brothers - if only one summer in 1963.

Veteran's Day 2011 - Reflections

This past Sunday at St. Thomas the Apostle Catholic church,   in preparation  and remembrance  of  Veteran's Day our pastor , Father Bill invited all  veterans sitting in the congregation  to come forward for a special blessing,  and recognition for their service to our country.  My husband, Gary and our friend,  Marty Mednis were  among many who stepped forth. Without saying a word, seeing  the age of each told the  generation they represented.  While none  are no longer here from World War I, there were a few from World War II, several from Vietnam , and  many who fought in Iraq. As Father Bill  presented each with an American flag pin with a cross overlay, the congregation gave them a standing ovation.   I felt proud of my husband for the time he served during the Vietnam conflict, and proud of all.  Each one a  piece of the fabric that makes our land great. 

In Bell, the southern California city I grew up in, the official name of the park was Veteran's Park, but us kids mostly called it Bell Park. It was a great place for Dodge ball, tether ball, softball, swings and slides.  I don't know how old I was when I first understood our playground was named in honor of the military men and women who served our country ; American veterans of all wars - men like my grandfather, Cecil Cooney, great uncle Andrew Norton, uncles Lloyd Cooney and Bob Breedlove,  and how significant   that was for me, and other children playing so innocently, and free.  Men who sacrificed and believed in something bigger than themselves.    Veterans honored  then were soldiers from World War I, known as the Great War - the war to end all wars,  World War II, and the Korean War.    Vietnam , the Gulf War, Iraq, and Afghanistan were still far in the future.  Today November 11, 2011 -  veterans of those later  conflicts  are also  remembered for their sacrifice and duty to country, receiving gratitude from a grateful nation for their fortitude and service.

This morning I read about the history of Veteran's Day on the US Department of Veteran's Affairs website, http://www1.va.gov/opa/vetsday/vetdayhistory.asp  and was struck by this opening paragraph,

World War I – known at the time as “The Great War” - officially ended when the Treaty of Versailles was signed on June 28, 1919, in the Palace of Versailles outside the town of Versailles, France. However, fighting ceased seven months earlier when an armistice, or temporary cessation of hostilities, between the Allied nations and Germany went into effect on the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month. For that reason, November 11, 1918, is generally regarded as the end of “the war to end all wars.”

The war to end ALL wars. If only it could have been.

Yes, let us always remember Veteran's Day - the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month  when the 'war to end all wars' came to an end,  and as we look forward , let our  constant hope and prayer  be just that - the war to end all  war.  

AUTUMN MOON, IDAHO SKY

An Autumn  (full) moon
in a big Idaho sky
shines bright
like a flashlight
in the dark of night
over tree covered
land, and beauty
of the north -  Rockford Bay
and Lake Coeur d Alene

The Artist

She hasn't painted
since her sister passed away
More than a sister, her
best friend, and painting
partner -  the one who
encouraged and inspired                                    
her art. Now, the canvas
is blank , the brushes tucked
away, and  the vivid
colors stored in a drawer.
Perhaps not today,
but someday soon, she'll paint again;
Something beautiful in
memory of her beloved Linda

Natural Beauty, North Idaho & The Danger of Changing Landscape

Mountains and prairie,
river valley and farmland
so much of north Idaho still
rural, allowing for the beauty
of natural land
Evergreen trees, pine trees
white birch, and white
tail deer. Wild  huckleberries
and grizzly bears; Moose and
elk roam the woods while
Osprey and Eagle fly
in a smog less sky

I wonder though, how
long will it  be
before  Joni Mitchell's
parking lot
takes victory here;
Not the loggers who
earn their living by
timber dollars, but
developers and local
politicians  making  way
for high rise buildings
and shopping centers                                          

WOODSY WALK IN AUTUMN

As I  walk through the woods
cool, crisp air brushes against my face
I wear a  fleece hat to keep
my ears warm, and  a bright
yellow jacket
I notice the color of the leaves
have changed from summer
green to autumn gold, and
take  in the smells of nature
that smell so good
this time of year
I reach the rim and
look out at the lake; silent
and calm.
Overhead, the  blue
of the sky isn't filtered
with smog or haze, but clear
and beautiful. It seems
close enough to reach
up and touch
Nearby, a  Red Shafted Flicker
rapidly raps  the trunk
of a tree with his pointy
yellow beak , and I'm
reminded it's time
for home