Isabella Bird Miscellany

hands grasped, clutching, struggling it was just out-of-reach frustration, try again not to be defeated or disappointed it was right there attempts thwarted, why the obstruction it remained unattainable                   and slipped into oblivion When I find myself in times of trouble...let it be ...an appropriate Beatles song to hear in relation to these penned words. People are struggling, coping: to succeed, to climb, to flourish, to acquire or to merely survive another day, month, year. We all need hope. Tangible hope. Something that won't slip away. What's tangible, anyway? Real, touchable, actual, nothing ethereal, but something to lay our hands on. I need that. You need that. We all need that. Lord, help us. Give us hope. Give us peace. Give us love and patience, concern and compassion. Be within our grasp, don't slip into oblivion, or let us slip into oblivion. Missy    If you have been...

Reflecting. My uncle passed away last night. He was my one and only uncle. My mom was an only child. My dad had one sister. So, I had one uncle. Uncle Kenny was a military man. When I was young, I thought it was so cool that they got to live in Germany. I didn't even know where that was, but it was somewhere I'd never been; still haven't. Almost five years ago, my hubs and I took a road trip to where I was born. It had been scads of years since I'd been to Lakeport. However, I found where my grandparents lived - along with my uncle, aunt and cousins. I thought about the grand adventures Terry and I had. The house no longer existed, but the plot with block retaining wall and outdoor barbecue did. Returning from a jaunt overseas and to Texas, my cousins landed in the Olympia area. We'd take trips up the I5 corridor to see them. In return, they'd travel to Eugene where our grandparents had a farm. As kids, we'd play for hours in the woods and walk w...

I woke to the sun streaming in through the over-sized window in the living room. Cupping my coffee, I closed my eyes and soaked it in. It was such a welcome relief to the previous day's fog that kept everything cold and frozen; huddled in against the grey. Stepping outside I could feel the slight warmth of the sun; my shadow elongated due to it's southerly slant in winter.  Even the birds were more chipper, singing vibrant melodies and flitting about. A few squirrels ran up and down bare trees. Isabella was playful with her nose to the ground and butt up, only to flop down and slide and roll in the remaining snow. I don't mind a little hibernating in the winter. It's a great time to catch up on some reading or to enjoy a hot drink of sorts with a friend. However, I do love the sun shining bright, making me squint. It enlivens the spirit when everything is monochromatic and dormant. The Danish have a cool word - hygge - pronounced hue-guh. Hygge acknowledg...

The park was empty this morning. I was humming California Dreamin'.  I like seeing people and exchanging a few words, but there's something extraordinary and peaceful about being there - alone.  Isabella freely sniffed.  I could weave my way in and out of the trees without wondering if people thought I was a crazy lady for not walking a straight path. trees are gray-brown silhouettes  set against an ashen sky, ready to drop crafted snowflakes streets are iced houses bright with twinkling lights beckon us indoors winter is descending with darkness and dormancy and cold each breath exhaled creates fog an innate splendor  air crystallizes and suspends for a moment all is calm all is quiet in the season of rest and sleep I could hear the birds and see my breath.  I was mindful of winter's imminent arrival. The sky had that "snow sky" look. It's time to think about hibernating, where all is stilled and quiet for a time. Plants and ...

I spent the afternoon reading through old notebooks filled with pieces I’ve written. Some were finished stories, others concepts or impressions from what was going on in my life.   I found many “mindful” thoughts, chronicles of trips, lists of words and disconnected sentences. It was quite fascinating; like a time capsule of events all noted on paper. I plan to start sharing some of these partial works. My intention is that something in them will resonate with someone. She worked underground. It was better than working above. Daylight exposed things and cast shadows of doubt. Scars and pain, hidden in the earth were revealed. Daily donning the garb of a miner, she gripped her pick axe to toil in darkness; striking each rock with a solid blow. Emerging at dusk, she was loose to roam the quiet streets.   Covered in grit, she was not a sight to turn heads. Her one atoning feature was the unconventional necklace hung from her ivory neck. People rar...

The lights just clicked on. The ones we hung outside last Friday when the day was bright and fair. Today it’s cloudy and cold. It’s dark earlier. So, the lights just clicked on. It’s pretty. If I squint, the white fairy lights look like tiny gleaming stars. Bordering on gazing at an inky sky, dotted and specked with minute bursts of light. Two Moravian stars with multi-faceted points hang. They sway with the breeze. Moving to the wind’s breathed music. They reflect in the open window; mirror images, star duets. Santa arrives in a helicopter descent at the Old Mill. He sets up shop, elves and reindeer to join later. High fives, and shy giggles, the kids approach. Innocent, bright eyes wide open and hopeful. It’s a magical and expectant season. It’s Advent. Advent – the arrival of the awaited One – is more than my lights clicking on, the Moravian stars dancing and my grandkids’ wonder at the arrival of Santa. I love each of these experiences and the ...

desert road, open spaces, extra large sky I love the freedom of road trips; stopping when you want, turning on a side road or adding an extra day to a particular place just because you can. The freedom of the road is romanticized in novels and movies, but some of those depictions are reality when traveling with your love and best friend. stokes castle, austin nevada We left early afternoon, and after pushing through the Oregon high desert with water levels equally high and wildlife abundant, we stopped for the night in Austin, Nevada. It’s a small, mostly boarded up, for sale town wedged on the side of the Toiyabe Mountains. Austin is mostly dead and abandoned, but not in a cool ghost town sort of way. Its rugged beauty though, includes a castle, stories of colorful silver miners and hiking, biking and other desert exploring stuff.  big smoky valley,  lonely and lovely Leaving, we dropped into the Big Smoky Valley on the Loneliest Highway ...

station 12, the grotto, pdx It’s funny, and not in a comical way, how the writing prompts from two different sites are polar opposites of each other – jealousy and hope. One is full of causalities and destruction, the other resonates with possibility. All gets weighed in the balance we call life. Our scales tip back and forth until they settle; balanced, landing on one side or the other. Desperation dissipates in Your presence. We go from utter hopelessness to the apex of joy. Things eat away at our well-being . Jealousy revels in discontentment, driving us to more and different, instead of finding satisfaction and enjoyment with enough. Hope, on the other hand bursts through the darkness that tries to engulf. Hope is possibility. Hope is being ok with the now. Hope knows a quietness of soul. Hope differs from a wish, it’s substantial. Hope has weight and substance and an innate security. Hope inspires love and trust, a belief that is solidly rooted in the thoug...