Category Archives: Friends

From the Hadean to Red Tie Guy to Unicorns

Mabon and the Samain Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Joanne. Joe. Marilyn and Irv. Tara and Eleanor. Shadow, smiling. Illness. Aging. Complicated schedules. Tomatoes, Roma, to Tara. Cherry Tomatoes, sweet off the plant. Low fire risk since late June. Rabbi Jamie’s sabbatical. Mussar. Bear Berry. Bunch Grass. Lichen. Fungi. Sushi Win Special Roll.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Quantum Computers

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah:  Ometz Lev.  Courage of the heart.

Tarot: Paused

One brief shining: Wu wei you might wonder is it rolling with the punches living like a Mountain Stream taking a licking and keeping on ticking going with the flow becoming one with the movement of Clouds and Wild Neighbors living life with ease not pressing for a result, no expectations and you would be as right as Chuang Tzu dreaming himself a butterfly or wait was it a butterfly dreaming it was Chuang Tzu.

 

Tara and Eleanor: Tara brought Eleanor over to play with Shadow. Eleanor, still very much a puppy, stands about three times Shadow’s close to the ground height. They run and run and run and run.

Also, Eleanor this time tried to hump Shadow, dominance assertion, but Shadow would have none of it. I may be small, she said, but I’m neither submissive nor a pushover.

Meanwhile Tara and I talk as close friends do. She’s an important person in my life, ready to help or laugh or tutor me for my Bar Mitzvah. What a delight.

The next time Tara comes she’ll bring me some hay I can use to bed down the Garlic I plan to plant over the weekend. I gave her three Garlic cloves so she can plant her own.

 

Just a moment: Hey, shhh! We’re gonna demolish us some Whitehouse, eh? But. Don’t tell anybody. Once it’s gone, who’ll know the difference. Right?

Oh, and here’s another thing. Get Justice to sign off on that $231,000,000. I might need more gold leaf for the ballroom, you know. Can’t skimp there.

While you’re at it? Raise tariffs and keep Congress out of everything. What are they for anyhow, dude?

Thanks. I’m heading over to the Golden Arches (see, they like me) for a few Big Mac super meals. Might stop into a Burger King, too, for another paper crown. Don’t wait up.

 

Reading: Finished A Brief History of the Earth by Andrew Knoll. A gift from Tom. Recommend it if you want a quick over view of geological, paleontological, and climatological thinking that’s up to date and written for non-scientists. Thanks to Tom and Andrew.

 

Sport: As baseball’s season comes to an exciting climax with Shohei Otani and the Dodgers facing the Toronto Blue Jays, the NBA season opened the other night with a game between the Dallas Mavericks and the San Antonio Spurs.

More unicorn action there. Even though Cooper Flag, the Maine baller and first pick in the NBA draft played in his first professional game, attention focused instead on Victor Wembanyama.

The 7’5″ player in his third season returned after a blood clot ended his playing last year. His grueling summer training included martial arts training in a Shaolin Temple.  He returned to dominate the Mavericks with 40 points, 15 rebounds, and three blocks. In 30 minutes of playing time.

 

Living In a Small Town

Mabon and the Harvest Moon

Shabbat gratefuls: Joanne and Joe. Derek. Vince. Shadow. Israel. Gaza. Palestinians. Arabs. Mark in Hafar. My Lodgepole, a living Tree. Cut down. A leaner after heavy Winds. Tara and Jamie. RMCC. Dr. Bupathi. Maddie. Social Worker and RN. Palliative care. My PET scan.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Shabbat

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Ometz Lev.   Bravery of the heart.  Seeing my medical oncologist, Dr. Bupathi, on Monday.

One brief shining: Jackie and Rhonda, dispensing love in, as Rhonda’s shirt said, Small Acts (that) Change the World; a lot like Cheers where everybody knows my name and by simply knowing my name makes my day brighter, more.

 

Living in a small town (Mellencamp): Yes, Alexandria. 5,000 people in my time there: 1949-1965. Walk everywhere. To Cox’s Grocery Store. To the Methodist Church. To Thurston Elementary School. Bailey’s Drug Store. The Carnegie Library. The Town Theater or the Alex. Walking meant running into people you knew well and people you knew only slightly. Always.

Alexandria shaped my idea of how life was supposed to go. Not in an urban environment where most of the time you had no idea who you saw in the grocery store, who sat down next to you in a restaurant, but rather as part of a thick web of people who knew each other at least well enough to nod with recognition.

This meant kids were safe to wander the streets because everyone knew who you belonged to. This also meant getting into trouble would always get back to your parents. Always.

I most remember the shoe leather and glue smells of Guilkey’s Shoe Repair. The cool humid ramp that led down to the children’s room of the Alexandria Carnegie Library. And, the Silver Llama, my favorite book which resided there. Those reading competitions in the summer.

Or, having a fizzy soda at the soda fountain in Bailey’s Drug Store. Buying Cinnamon extract there in liquid form, then putting toothpicks in it to savor later. Benefield’s Market, right next to Kildow’s Paint Store where, during lunch break at junior high, we’d all go to buy penny candy.

That high diving board in the pool at Beulah Park. I never did summon the courage to go off it though I did pass my swimming test so I could go in the deep end of the pool.

For some reason, lost in the history of Madison County, the Madison County 4-H fair was held in Beulah Park each August, not in Anderson, the county seat. I loved the buttermilk from the Alexandria Dairy Booth. A small Dixie cup. Salt and Pepper.  Mmmm. Looked forward to that.

Now I live in two small Mountain towns, Conifer and Evergreen. When I see Jackie and Rhonda, I feel right back in a small town. They know me, knew Kate. I know them. I know about Jackie’s son who recently divorced that (very wrong according to Jackie) woman and now lives back up the hill in little Shawnee. I saw Rhonda’s new purse. We all laughed at Tom’s joke about the Guinness Book of World Records. Living in a small town.

 

Pay Better Attention

Mabon and the Harvest Moon

Friday gratefuls: Jamie Bernstein. Living in the in-betweens. More lidocaine. Ablations in a month. Shadow of the morning. A hard freeze. Artemis with her cold frames. Harvesting more Tomatoes today. All the Spinach, Kale, and Beets soon. Dr. Vu. Mountain View Pain Center. Our poor benighted country. The Dodgers! The Blue Jays.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: That feeling high in my chest when I turn onto 285 and head into the Mountains

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei and my trainer, Shadow

Week Kavannah: Simcha. Joy.    The Grateful Dead.

Tarot: Paused

One brief shining: My friend Jamie told me she now relies on anecdotes to get her through the day relaying the story of the young Mule Deer Buck who ran onto 285 and hit her car a glancing blow then bounded off across the highway causing her to pull over to the side and the man passing by who stopped, ran back to her and gave her a hug while she cried.

 

Health (correction): Jamie Bernstein was one of Kate’s closest friends. A former hospital administrator and a very bright woman, she gave me a ride yesterday to Lone Tree. We had a lot of fun trading stories, bemoaning life in Trump’s golden shower America. Her husband, Steve, has a very aggressive form of prostate cancer, currently calmed down thanks to a clinical trial. Enough so that he’s playing golf again.

(The Correction): So. Either I didn’t pay attention, or it was not explained to me, but I had to have two rounds of lidocaine injections, not one. Means these were not ablations this week. Damn it. Rather two more doses, left and right side, of lidocaine injections, the same as I had two weeks ago.

I see Kylie, my pain doc, in yet two more weeks. She evaluates the results of the lidocaine trials and relays them to my insurance company. Then, and only then, do I get cleared for the actual ablations. Which may be two weeks from that visit if not more. Sigh.

Conclusion. Pay better attention.

 

Sports: Baseball playoffs. Japanese pitchers: Ohtani and Yamamoto for the Dodgers. Toronto Blue Jays tie the American League playoff series. I love the obvious, so obvious diversity of Asian baseball players especially when added to the so fine possibility of that Canadian team, the Toronto Blue Jays, winning their way into the World Series. Take that you dimwitted gold plated simulacrum of a human being.

Watched a bit of the Steelers v Bengals last night. Aaron Rodgers and Joe Flacco behind center. Both over forty. Both new to their respective teams. Flacco only ten days a Bengal. They both looked good, taking quick reads, passing fast.  Wonder if we’ll see quarterbacks with AARP cards in their wallet?

How about Caitlin Clark? Playing in the Annika pro-am golf tournament in November. Sort of a female Michael Jordan thing, eh? Well, maybe not. Here’s what she promised her fans on Instagram: “Will try not to hit anyone 🙏,” she captioned the post.

Nathan and Lizzy

Mabon and the Harvest Moon

Monday gratefuls: The Ancient Brothers. The Night. A cool, very cool Night. 35 right now. Shadow curled, nose to tail. Tom. Roxann. Ode. Elizabeth. The Northshore. Lake Superior. Grand Marais. The Poplar River. Lutsen. Wolves. Moose. The Boundary Waters. My new Pendleton Blanket with the Aurora Borealis. Electric blankets.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Nathan and Lizzy

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah:  Yesod.  Groundedness. Foundation.

Tarot: Paused

One brief shining: Rain saturates the red cinder blocks making up my small patio, indoor light reflects off them as I open the door, outside for Shadow into the early morning darkness, eager, tail high, wet cold air seeps inside. I shut the door.

 

Hanging the Mezuzah on Artemis: Irv, Marilyn, Gabe, Tara, Me, Rabbi Jamie. Nathan took the photograph rendered here in the style of Thomas Benton.

Nathan and Lizzy: I love developing relationships. When they happen naturally. Yes, I’m an introvert, proud of my solitude and nourished by it. Yes. But I’m far from a misanthrope. The world has so many amazing people, kind and skilled and offering a perspective only they have. Can have.

I’ve gotten to know Nathan over the construction of Artemis, from rough idea to frame up to raised beds filled with soil and now plants. He’s a young guy, maybe early thirties. A man of business. A handyman. A trucking company. Colorado Coop and Garden.

He has plans. Emulate Tuff Shed. A Colorado firm that started out building sheds, then went to making kits that they ship all over the country. Next year he’s renting a shop where he can work regular hours, make kits for greenhouses and chicken coops, market them to the nation.

Lizzy, his partner, whom I met yesterday, runs a pet sitting business. She has larger ambitions, too. She’s a beautiful, high energy lady with a sweet soul. And, she loved Shadow. Ah, a way to care for Shadow if I get well enough to travel. Quirky dogs are her and a few of her employees special interest. Even better.

May they live long and prosper.

 

Artemis: I planted in late July. The average first frost at my elevation has come in early September, some years late August. It’s October 6th and still no frost. My Carrots, Beets, Spinach, and Kale are all cool weather crops, can withstand low temperatures, even light frosts. Especially the Beets and Carrots improve with the cooler weather, get sweeter.

The Tomatoes, my inside the greenhouse crop, do not like the cold. I’ve gotten a great first year crop with them, but if I could have had them in a month earlier, I would have had a huge crop. For a tiny greenhouse.

Nathan and Lizzy came by yesterday so Lizzy could see the almost finished Artemis and Nathan could install hooks for my cold frame tops. With the cold frame tops I can enclose the outdoor beds so they still receive Great Sol, yet remain above freezing. Extending my growing season on the outside of the greenhouse.

Once Nathan puts hard foam insulation panels-with handles-inside Artemis I should be able to grow Kale, Lettuce, Arugula over the winter. I should also be able to grow my own starter plants as winter begins to let go.

Good for my soul.

Luke. My medical October

Mabon and The Harvest Moon

Monday gratefuls: Orgovyx and Erleada. PET scans. Lidocaine. Nerve ablations. Neck Brace. Alchemy. Jewish shamanism. Magic of the Ordinary. Shadow, crossing the threshold. Artemis without Frost yet. Still no Garlic Bulbs. A bichromal fall. Green and gold. Black Mountain. Conifer Mountain. Resplendent.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Luke

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah:  Malchut. Wonder.    “Wonder is the beginning of wisdom.”  Socrates.

Tarot: Eight of Wands, reversed. (Druid Craft)                       Creative pursuits: If you have lost motivation or your creative “spark” has fizzled out, the card suggests that your idea may have lacked practical grounding. Go back to the drawing board and develop a clearer plan.

One brief shining: Settled into a chair at Bella Colibri (Beautiful Hummingbird) in downtown Golden, Luke already there at a table next to a window overlooking Miner’s Alley, our fancy Italian meal for his 34th birthday, and received an amuse bouche of thin fried Onions with a salty finish. Ha, just like those fried onions from a can when I was a kid. Only really expensive and a tiny portion.

 

Luke: Ah. So good to see him excited about his work, settling into teaching chemistry at Colorado Community College. He’s got plans. Good plans. For the future. Hitting his stride.

As we ate, Mussels for him, sourdough bread, breaded veal for me, we talked. He’s exploring alchemy. Says some sources point to a very early first century woman, Maria the Jewess, as the first alchemist. A connection between alchemy and kabbalah is well known. He’s already thinking about a Kabbalah Experience class on alchemy.

He’s also learning to play an entire Beatles album, working on two of his own songs, and on alchemical symbology in his art. If he could find a partner, his life would blossom. Gifted guy. And a sweet friend.

Drove home from Golden after night had fallen. Reminded of why I don’t like to drive at night. Though. Seeing the waxing crescent of the Harvest Moon against broken clouds added an element of joy.

 

Health: While most of my fellow Jews celebrate the closing of the book of life for another year, I will get driven to Lone Tree twice, once on Wednesday and once on Thursday. Lidocaine injections in and near my lumbar spine. The lidocaine shuts down pain, showing the doctor which nerves to ablate at the next two appointments on the 15th and 16th. Fingers and toes crossed. After those, we add in the butrans patch which may sop up any left over pain. May it be so.

On the 8th I have another PET scan hunting for what might have caused my PSA to go from .2 to .3. Either new metastases or increased activity in previously existing ones. Big fun.

Finally, on October 6th, I go to the Evergreen DMV to turn in the paperwork for a handicap placard. Then, same day, into Denver to Evergreen Prosthetics to get fitted for a neck brace.

So. Nerve ablations. PET scan. Handicap placard. Neck brace. That’s enough for October.

 

Women, you have my awe

Mabon and the Harvest Moon

Shabbat gratefuls: Shadow, the pillow kisser. Night sky. Morning darkness. Mark and the Texas land. Mary and the marauding Magpies. My son. In for Hep B scans in Oct. Seoah training for a half marathon. Shadow, the huntress. Tom’s procedure. Days of Awe. Gershon Winkler. Rami Shapiro. Dog treats. No King’s on October 18th. Action against Hulu and Disney.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Shema

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Malchut. Wonder.    Wonder is the beginning of wisdom.  Socrates.

Tarot: Five of Wands, (Druid Craft)

  • Overcoming inertia: Following the stability of the Four of Wands, this card represents a breaking of that stasis. It is the raw, fiery energy needed to spark change and move a project or idea forward. 

One brief shining: The Beets have grown, plumping out, the Spinach continues, a healthy green, Kale flourishes as the Carrots need thinning again, meanwhile, I’ve had no salad because I keep eating the Cherry Tomatoes as I pick them, maybe when the next Cucumber matures?

 

Dog journal: Fingers crossed, the evening coming in seems to have to come back to the most recent norm. Perhaps a bit later, but that’s ok.

Yesterday I went outside for some play time with Shadow, bearing treats as I usually do. She came up, wagging her tail, but when I offered her the treat she refused it. Odd. I dropped it on the ground. Sniff, sniff. Nope. Then she trotted away, done with all that. Huh?

She went up beside the house and picked up something. What’s that? At first I thought her long vigils on the back deck had paid off and she’d killed a Chipmunk. No. That’s not it. What is it?

As she came closer, I saw grayish fur. A Rabbit’s foot! No wonder there are no Mice. I looked for the rest of the carcass, but the backyard is grassy and just under an acre.

Later in the day, when she had rediscovered her interest in treats, I lost her attention again as she sprang for a Grasshopper. He got away. She pounced a second time and had a Bug snack.

My little girl has become a backyard predator. Rigel’s spirit lives on in Shadow.

 

Women: After 78 years as a cisgender male who loves women, I’ve come to the conclusion that being a woman is, well, complicated. Much more complicated than being a man.

Women, you can stop reading here. You already know this. Unless you want to check my work, see what I’ve left out.

No, it’s not about dolls instead of trucks although there’s truth there, too. I’m talking about periods, about sexual dimorphism, about pregnancy and child birth, about the male gaze, about having to make your way among bigger, stronger often denser males, about motherhood, about sexism in all its pernicious forms, about usually being more emotionally intelligent in a world dominated by the logical and the rational as pinnacles of wisdom.

Women, you have my awe for your journey.

 

 

Ready for your spot at Alligator Alcatraz?

Mabon and the Harvest Moon

Friday gratefuls: Veronica. On her way to Brooklyn. Nono’s. Catfish Po’ Boy. Barbecued Shrimp. Shadow’s patience. Ruby. Fiction. Non-fiction. Money. The rollover. My pension. Social Security. An I-Bond. Vanguard stock and savings. Home equity. Enough. More than enough. Adolescence. The Netflix series. Iron Flame.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Joanne

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah:  Yirah.  Awe and wonder.

Tarot: #4, The Lord (reversed) Druid Craft       Abuse of power: A person in authority is acting tyrannically, enforcing rules without logic or compassion, and refusing to listen to others.

One brief shining: Abuse of power thy name need not be spoken for your actions and your words reveal what a small man with great power can do to wreck history, destroy alliances, oppress the poor, ruin a nation, and bring shame to its citizens.

 

Friends: “We’ll always have the mikveh,” I said to Veronica as we hugged one last time after our dinner at Nono’s, a New Orleans style restaurant. She came back a week or so from a month and 700 miles on the Pacific Crest Trail, hiking alone.

She told me she’s moving to Brooklyn on October 4th. Surprised me. “I’ll miss you!” “I’ll miss you, too!” In the way of today’s labor force for some, she’s arranged to do her work at Lockheed-Martin remotely from a Brooklyn one-bedroom apartment that formerly belonged to her brother, who died in March.

She has her second mom, cousins, aunts and uncles nearby. She’s returning home. Family draws us from place to place.

Joanne called me yesterday, wondering how I’m doing. I haven’t seen her in a couple of months. We talked for a while. She sang me songs, satirical ones that she makes up. Her birthday on Wednesday was number 93.

Last year I drove up to the Bistro as she climbed off Rabbi Jamie’s motorcycle, removing her helmet just like a biker chick. That was just before our celebration for her 92nd. She’s an amazing, talented, funny friend.

 

Just a moment: Nothing quite like using the U.S. Justice Department as your Bond villain vengeance instrument. My mouth cannot gape any further or I will dislocate my jaw.

I thought the U.N. speech was, well, a certain nadir. But, no. Always one rung lower on the step ladder to Hell for the Burger King. Much more than his politics, if he has any, I find this juvenile desire to punish perceived enemies as repugnant. What was it Jesus said? You know, the one about enemies.

He and the gang that can’t shoot straight have put this once respected and mighty country, not so long ago the world hegemon, through a shredder leaving us with only strips of our dignity, self-respect, and world reputation.

Send us your huddled masses yearning to be free and we’ll give them a free plane ticket to the South Sudan. Been a long term, loyal U.S. ally? Here’s your new tariff.

We used to be real live nephews of our Uncle Sam. Now? We’re the red-headed step cousin ready for our spot at Alligator Alcatraz.

 

Teshuva

Mabon and the Harvest Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Shadow’s regression. Her sweetness. Cool, Rainy, Dark morning. Rosh Hashanah. L’shana Tova. The beauty of Shadow. Rain. Sweet Tomatoes. Great workout yesterday. Working out. Prolia. Bone health. Tramadol and acetaminophen. Yum. Beavers, nature’s engineers. Lodgepoles. Aspen gold. A Mountain Fall well underway.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Fourth Wing

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Yirah. Awe and Wonder

Tarot: #17, The Star

  • Connection to intuition: The imagery encourages listening to your inner guidance. In the Druid Craft deck, this is an act of “coming home to yourself” and being true to your core essence.
  • Renewed purpose: This card can signal a deep spiritual awakening or a renewed sense of purpose. It reminds you that you are connected to the greater cosmic and natural world. 

One brief shining: Rain has pelted down overnight, the Air cool and moist, temperature in Artemis down to 55, outside the comfort range for Tomato ripening, the Rain though, the Monsoons, have given us surcease from Fire, made the Mountain Meadows and Lodgepole covered slopes green, and given the Aspens reason to respond to its Midas touch.

 

Tarot and Rosh Hashanah: Teshuva, often translated as repentance, is the main point of the Jewish new year. We greet the new year with a soul refreshed and cleansed. I prefer the word return as its translation.

In that sense of teshuva the major arcana of the Star correlates well: “an act of “coming home to yourself” and being true to your core essence.” When we perform teshuva, we return, as one sage put it, to the landscape of our soul. To do that we have to clear away the schmutz, accretions to our self that block our nefesh soul from shining through.

Nefesh, buddha nature, true self. Who you are as an extension of the sacred. Your core essence. I love that the Star showed up for me on the 1st day of Rosh Hashanah.

I’m coming to believe that my life as I live it now is my core essence. Time with family and friends. Intentional conversations each week with those I love. Seeing the ancient friends on Sunday morning. Reading. Studying. Playing with Shadow. Co-creating with Great Sol, the soil, and Artemis. Living in the Mountains. Living a Jewish life through mussar, the men’s group, Talmud Torah, saying the Shema, touching the mezuzahs, celebrating holidays. Also through my many friendships at CBE. Writing Ancientrails. My ancientrail.

In other words my teshuva snaps me back to this Shadow Mountain life. One lived with kavannah, intention, connected to the past, alive to the present, accepting of the future. A good feeling and one on target for this 5786th Rosh Hashanah.

 

Just a moment: We need to call out red tie guy’s lies. At every opportunity. No tip toeing around this Burger King tyrant. Kick him in the shins each he says crime is out of control. Each time he says stealing money from the poor to give to the rich will make America great. Each time he demeans transgender folks. Each he claims the insurrection was a peaceful protest.

No Kings. October 18th.

The left Reverend Dr. Israel Herme Harari

Erev Mabon and the Harvest Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Shadow, my sweet girl. Kate, always Kate. Ruth and Gabe. The gathering darkness. The Siddur for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, the Machzor. Nylabone. Kongs. Artemis, ripening Tomatoes. First salad soon. Talmud Torah. Red tie guy. Burger King. His paper crown. Ruby. The boiler. The mini-splits. The Fireplace. All ready for fall. And, winter.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Aspen gold on Black Mountain

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah:  Yirah. Awe and Reverence

Tarot: King of Pentacles, reversed (Druid Craft)  It indicates a need to loosen up and take responsible risks to grow.  Gemini

One brief shining: Plucking ripe Cherry Tomatoes, taking in the Plant’s earthy, acidic perfume, popping them into my mouth, tasting the sweetness no store bought Tomato can deliver makes the expense and fuss of Artemis more than worthwhile, it makes it an ordinary miracle.

 

Judaism: The Siddur, order of service for the High Holidays- Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur-weighs in at 1200 plus pages of prayers, psalms, poetry, Torah, blessings, and much more. The first written service siddurs came into existence in the 9th century, but it took the invention of the printing press to accelerate their use in most synagogues.

We studied a parsha from Deuteronomy used on Yom Kippur and a major prayer, the Amidah, yesterday morning at the bagel table. Rabbi Jamie, Ginny, Luke, and me.

As I’ve written here before, I’m more of a Sukkot, Simcha Torah, Passover, Shavuot,  sorta Jew. More focused on the strong linkage between earth-focused holidays that celebrate the harvest, Sukkot, or spring planting, like Passover, and the long tradition of their celebration within Jewish communities over thousands of years.

Yet. Modern day Judaism focuses a bright light on the Days of Awe. This year I plan to attend outside services for Rosh Hashanah, possibly Yom Kippur. See what the contemporary focus means. I say possibly for Yom Kippur because its two days coincide with the lidocaine injections for my ablation procedure.

 

A few photographs from the Beaver Dam trip:

 

Finding the Beaver Dam

Lughnasa and the Cheshbon Nefesh Moon

Shabbat gratefuls: Tom. Three Victorias. Their deluxe burrito and their sopa de albondigas, or meatball soup. Beavers. The MIT mascot. Their Pond up Park County Rd. #60. Burning Bear Creek Trail.  North Fork of the South Platte River. Golden Aspen. Small Beaver dams. A really big Beaver dam. Colorado back country on the way to Kenosha Pass and South Park.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Beavers

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Yirah. Awe and reverence. The days of Awe, Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.

Tarot: Seven of Wands, reversed (Druid Craft) “It may be time to seek support from others or connect with your community instead of going it alone.”   Gemini

One brief shining: Tom’s rental, a fire engine red Buick SUV, signaled each dip and ridge in Park Country Road #60 as he drove us through Hall Valley alongside the fast running North Fork of the South Platte River while I looked for the Beaver felled Aspen stumps that would show me when to look for the Beaver pond turnoff. Saw them.

 

Tom’s visit: Psst, buddy! Wanna see a really big Beaver dam? Tom and I had finished our breakfast at Primo’s, trying to decide what we might do next. He liked the idea of seeing the Beaver dam, about forty minutes further along Hwy 285 on the way to Fairplay.

We drove through Bailey commenting on the Sasquatch Center we had visited the last time we ate at the nearby Cutthroat Cafe. I mentioned again the faux pas I made there. I’d asked the guy at the counter if anyone believed this stuff. An hour and several blurry jpeg’s later I had my answer.

The Platter River Canyon, carved out by the North Fork of the South Platte, has broad meadows and tourist cabins, an Orvis Approved Dude Ranch, and the Santa Maria YMCA camp. Near Grant is the Shaggy Sheep restaurant where I’ve often eaten. Beyond Grant a few miles is Park County #60.

A while back I wanted to hike the Burning Bear Creek Trail, as much for its name as the trail description. I missed the trail head but kept driving because Hall Valley had beautiful stands of Aspen and Lodgepoles, the North Fork of the South Platte, and a view of a Mountain Range in the distance.

A good ways in I began to notice the stumps of Aspens with the slanted, tufted sign of Beavers at work. At a nearby parking lot I turned in and saw the largest Beaver dam I’d ever seen. Guess it had to be big because the North Fork runs strong.

Tom and I stopped there, too. Finding smaller dams along the way, Beaver water roads, and stands of dead Lodgepole drowned by the expansion of the Pond.

 

Just a moment: If you haven’t seen Comedy Central’s Daily Show in a while I highly recommend season 30’s episode 102, aired on September 18, 2025. In it Jon Stewart and cast skewer the cancel culture promoted by red tie guy, aka The Burger King. I paid $.77 to watch it. Best entertainment spend in a while.