Isabella Bird Miscellany

he mocks me Most nights hubby and I go for a walk with our dog, Isabella.  With us having been at work all day, it’s important for her to have some exercise – us too.   The walk is in the dark and where we live there’s a definite lack of street lights. Across the road there lives a park with a nice path around a small lake.  Geese, deer, assorted birds and tons of frogs have begun to call this newly developed area home.  We saw three good sized bucks come down to water, the velvet still clinging to their horns.  A gaggle of geese created quite a commotion one quiet evening when they landed in the dark.  As quickly as it was loud, it became noiseless when they settled upon the water. Another evening the path was littered with frogs not much bigger than your thumbnail.  Belle was her usual nosey self, sniffing them.  When one hopped, she jumped straight up like a scared rabbit.  Sheesh dog!  Some kind of protector you...

reflecting - paulina lake, october 2015 Weekend getaways are all about kicking back and well, getting away from the entire buzz of life.  Caffeine excluded from this statement. Somewhere around noon of day two’s whatever we want to do schedule, my baby and I decided to hike around the lake that we’d been watching transform before our eyes.  The distance was seven and a half miles according to the sign.  That sounded totally do-able.  Especially since yesterday we had ventured out on two shorter hikes that amounted to six or so miles.  Besides, we’d walked a small part of the trail; it seemed like a pretty comfortable walk by the lake.  First glances can be deceiving. Now, in all fairness to avid outdoors people, it probably was easy peasy.  But to this urban girl, who only a few years ago had given up her love of walking due to not pleasant back pain from nerves having their life squeezed out; this hike was of larger-than-life proporti...

with a nod of dignity, he pulled her close people driving by without even looking; it’s too risky, so just don’t look funny, and not in a good way, how that dignity and pride stood out beyond the destitute standing on that corner, all too familiar cardboard sign in hand clothed in dirt from the street a common sight has become our normal; we go by without a passing thought these people were different their presence struck my conscience; piercing my heart with their status homelessness has a face stepping out of comfort Their sign was simple.   Out of the corner of my eye I saw that it asked for camping gear.  No hollow pleas for food, work or a blatant hand-out. I know nothing about the “whys” of why they were living on the street.  I don’t need to.  What does matter is my response to the things that I see with my eyes and my heart.  Am I aware?  Am I mindfully aware? Answer . I received an email...