Category Archives: Mountains

Aging, Art and Culture, Asia, Fourth Phase, Great Wheel, Holidays, Mountains, Myth and Story, Our Land and Home, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant., Shadow Mountain, Tarot

Sannyasa

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Lughnasa and the Lughnasa Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: HVAC mini-splits. Tom. His HVAC guy. Diane. Cousins. Family. Extended and virtual. Claire and her new life. Social Security. Cool morning. Allergies. Ragweed. Chenopods: amaranth, pigweed, waterhemp, russian thistle, lamb’s quarters. Washing machine. Dishwasher. Stove. Refrigerator. Sink. Well. Pump.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The trouble small bits of plant sex can cause

Tarot: Justice, #11 of the Major Arcana

 

Beginning, slowly. Sensing. Too much time in the afternoons. I take this as a good sign. I’m getting what I need to get done in the mornings, my best portion of the day, then I have a larger chunk of time in the afternoon where I feel a bit aimless. Over the last three years, the afternoon and evenings involved caretaking for Kate. So, filled up, always something else to do.

The pruning, the planning for the 18th, the administrative side of taking over all responsibilities, have all begun to yield. Hardly finished, but none of them weigh on me, pushing me, as they had even this last month.

The Musician and the Hermit – Moritz von Schwind

In my life change often comes because I’m bored. Oh, I’ve got time for this, now! Or, what could I be doing with this time? I have a few go to’s: reading and writing at the top of the list every time. Travel, especially close to home. Hiking. Museum going. Eating out. More time with friends.

There is, too, a niggling sensation that I could be doing more. Something more in a justice/climate change/political activism way. And, yes, I could.

But. I’m trying to lean into the life of the sannyasa, the fourth stage of Hindu life, a stage of renunciation, of pursuit of spiritual matters. And, the life of a mountain recluse in the shan-shui tradition of China. Perhaps, for now, a semi-hermetic life. Focused on reading, learning, writing. Self-awareness. Deepening my inner journey.

I’m going to mark September 29, Michaelmass, as a time to focus on whether this will remain my path. A retreat, perhaps. Three days somewhere in the mountains. Seems like a good idea.

Drew the justice card. No big insights today.

But. I did get a letter from Social Security yesterday explaining why they can’t pay me right now. My mistake. I didn’t give a new routing number after I closed the Health Care Credit Union account.

However, I have a call with them on Thursday, long awaited. This will be the one where I claim survivors benefits which will bump my social security up a grand plus. I started this process in April when I informed them of Kate’s death. Lots of getting put off, turned over to someone else.

 

 

*”It can also suggest a frustrating encounter with bureaucracy. If it shows up in your reading in this context, be prepared to navigate some red tape. Get help or advice from someone within the system you’re working in. Stay patient and persistent. This card in a positive position and upright indicates a good outcome.” tarotluv

Family, Feelings, Friends, Mountains, Shadow Mountain, Tarot, Third Phase

Besties

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Summer and the Lughnasa Moon

Monday gratefuls: Ruth. What a sweetheart. Gabe and his puzzles. Jon. Rigel and Kep. The three of swords. Rain, hail. A cool wind and a cool night. Good sleep. Rebecca and p.t. Pruning. Facing front. Kate, always Kate.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Ruth

Tarot card: Three of Swords

 

The Ancient ones. The best decisions in our lives. Easy top two: Kate and Joseph. No doubt. Kate for love, for mutuality/intimacy, for discovering the best selves of two injured souls. Joseph for love, for nurturing, for satisfaction of a need to parent, for his wonderful life.

After that came one you might not consider. I decided early on with Kate’s illness that I would do for her what she could not do for herself. And, that I would greet each task with yes in my heart, with love. The depth of that decision was, I think, clear to me at the time. It was a choice to live that part of our lives primarily for her.

The fourth best decision, at least as I ordered them yesterday, was our mutual decision to move to Colorado. We did it to be part of Ruth and Gabe’s life in a meaningful way and to have an adventure in the Rocky Mountains. In unexpected ways, like through the long arc of the divorce and through Kate’s illness, we realized both dreams.

Black Mountain

If you find this idea intriguing, you can help research on big decisions by looking at this website: The Ten Biggest Decisions.

After the Ancient ones (9 am Sunday mornings for me), I worked on pruning. Got almost all of Kate’s jewelry gathered together for Ruth to go through. Did a bit more work in the sewing room, dividing things between the Patchworkers and Ruth. She’ll go through both over the next couple of days, decide what she wants. The rest will go to others: the Patchworkers, Mountain Resource Center, and a consignment shop in Bailey.

In Korea, as Seoah told me, the equivalent is taking the deceased’s clothing and other belongings outside and burning them. I understand this. There is a need to purge the personal items like clothing, jewelry, hobby material. They carry an emotional weight, for some survivors heavy, for some not so much, but there nonetheless. Donating them, burning them. Both honor the significance of the deceased and their choices about what mattered to them in the realm of the very personal.

Later, Ruth and Gabe, Jon, came up. Around 7 pm. Ruth and Gabe will stay today and tomorrow. Ruth has work to do, figuring what she wants as her legacy from her grandma. Gabe, not so much that, but he loves being up here with the dogs and his Grandpop.

I spent a half-hour or so with Ruth, catching up, figuring things out with her for today.

The Three of Swords. Not a happy card. How could it be? A heart pierced with by three sharp blades, rain, and storm clouds. This from Labyrinthos: “This card comes at a time when you need to prepare yourself for this next stage in life. While the grief may be extremely hurtful, it enables you to forget your past and focus on your future knowing that you have control of what actions you take afterwards.”

You might imagine, given Kate’s death, that this card reflects turmoil in my life as a result. Nope. Just not where I am with my grief. I’m in a solid place, integrating Kate into my life without her presence. Working at tasks that move my life forward without regret or shame. I feel good there.

No, this card represents the family member I mentioned earlier. “A harder day yesterday later. A family member and I got crosswise. Yet again. Disturbed me before I got to sleep. Will have to get more clarity about this. Say my piece. Not let it drag me down, too.” This was Saturday.

My upset after the anger this person let out troubled me. A lot. Got in the way of my sleep, left me restless in my heart. I decided to face front with it and scheduled a lunch where I said we would have “…a serious talk.”

This is not easy for me. Something I’d rather avoid, but circumstances demand that I lean into the pain. Some resolution is necessary for life here on Shadow Mountain to retain one of its primary purposes. Wish I could be more specific, but I can’t.

 

 

Family, Feelings, Friends, Kabbalah, Minnesota, Mountains, Our Land and Home, Shadow Mountain, Tarot, Third Phase, Travel

You Are Approaching a New Phase of Life

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Summer and the almost full Lughnasa Moon

Friday gratefuls: Tom. The Cog Railway. Pikes Peak. Oxygen. Rigel. Kep. Patient dogs. Zelle. Joseph coming. Hearing appointment. Pine Valley Road. The North Fork Fire. The North Fork of the South Platte River. Colorado. Becoming Coloradan and Westerner.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Pikes Peak

Tarot card: Three of Cups

 

OK. There’s a streak here that’s inexplicable. At least by me. Granted that all perceived coincidence has a rootedness in the fact of personal experience and its interpretation. This close a hit feels unlikely without a bit of woo-woo in the air.

Here are three short interpretive excerpts about the three of cups:

“What it signals most strongly, however, is being with those who are emotionally in tune with you and you with them.”

“Three of Cups Tarot Card, in its core, represents finding yourself in a community of people who you can trust and rely upon.”

“There is abundant energy gathering around this moment that signifies you are approaching a new phase of life.”

Having read those would it you surprise you to know that my well-over thirty year friend, Tom Crane, came to visit yesterday? And, that we spent the day breakfasting, Happy Camping, and riding a cog-railway to the top of Pikes Peak?

Tom himself, the smaller group of Ancient Ones: Bill, Mario, and Paul, and the full herd of the Woolly Mammoths are exactly those with whom I am most emotionally in tune. Congregation Beth Evergreen folks, too, but to a lesser degree because of a shorter period of time together.

I do have a community of people I trust, two such communities: The Woollies and CBE.

Given the salience of the drawn cards to my actual life, hard for me to grasp, but there nonetheless, I’m intrigued by that third excerpt. It suggests I’m approaching a new phase of life.

I can feel it. As I move Kate’s clothing out of the closets and dresser, her jewelry out of its many different locations, and sort her cosmetics, I can feel spaces opening in my life. When the sewing room empties out, August 13th, I’ll feel more free.

No, not of Kate. Not at all. But of the stuff that she used in her daily life, no longer needed, and occupying emotional territory in my psyche. Her belongings are not a huge burden, but they are one and removing them feels good. Tom’s going to help me with that today. This is part of the pruning, the right-sizing, of my life, which includes my stuff, too. I plan to donate clothing of mine, as well.

Talked with Tom yesterday about my ideas on remodeling the kitchen and the bathroom. He was positive about it, about making the house as pleasant and useful a space as I can. I’m going to go forward with them, maybe a couple of more things, too. Like a fan in the downstairs TV room and in the guest room, and maybe a few touches in the main room. Not sure what right now.

Our house in the early morning, light on Shadow Mountain

When I’m done with all this, presumably sometime this fall, there will be a kitchen I love to cook in, an upstairs bathroom that no longer looks tired, a conversation area with chairs in front of the fireplace, a new dining room, sitting area in the old sewing room, and a newly arranged downstairs TV room.

Plan to follow Kate’s example and live here until I die. This excites me, feels appropriate as a marker for a new life.

Kate will still be everywhere, going with me, her quilts and jewelry and art adorning what will always be our house.

 

 

Denver, Family, Friends, Health, Judaism, Mountains, Music, Shadow Mountain, Third Phase

Back in the Mountains Again

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Summer and the Shadow Mountain Moon

Saturday gratefuls: Franny and the Jets. Alan, proud poppa. Jon, calmer. Downtown Denver. The 16th Street Mall. The new breakfast place. Beignets. Feeling a bit lost yesterday afternoon.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Front Range last night with the Sun setting behind it as I drove home.

 

June, 2019, our backyard

Back now, reabsorbed into the Mountains. Surprised yesterday to see a for sale sign on Holly and Eduardo’s house. They’re moving to Palm Springs, close to it. Eduardo got a new job with the same company, a commercial laundry. Sad to see them go.

Holly told me that Jim and Roberta, who live next to them, got divorced and their house will be up for sale, too. We’ll find out how accurate the (seemingly) inflated estimates are for our house prices.

Drove over to Evergreen yesterday AM and had breakfast with Alan. Cheri, his wife, has organized a big July 4 music festival for Evergreen. She also did one for Memorial Day. A lot of work. Good for the town.

The continuous rains we’ve had have greened up the Mountains. All the Plants look happy, watered, vibrant.

Elk Meadow, which I passed on the way to breakfast yesterday, was the first tract of land protected by a community land trust based in Evergreen. It’s big. The namesake Animals lay down in the grass, others wandered, eating. Highway signs say Watch for Elk. Scan the Roadside.

Got my x-rays back. No cancer, at least in these views. Whew. In the dry and matter of fact way of these reports: “X-rays show no acute changes; just old degenerative changes to lumbar spine and right hip.”

That’s me. An old degenerate. P.T. starts next week.

Still busy with this and that. Mostly. Yesterday afternoon though I’d paid all the bills, had breakfast with Alan, napped. Nothing really to do until 5 pm when I would leave for Dazzle Jazz in downtown Denver. Got to feeling displaced, a bit down. X-ray findings, while not terrible, reminded me of my own mortality. Which seems more real now with Kate’s death.

Also, Dr. Thompson told me not to take anti-inflammatories because of “your vascular disease.” Oh. I haven’t taken them for years, but that was because of kidney disease. I have atherosclerosis, my Midwest U.S. diet hasn’t helped. Since mom and dad both had strokes a reminder of the vascular disease sent me down a short rabbit hole.

Steadied. Sure, I’ll die. When? Don’t know. Today? Well, if so…

Jon and Kate in his new house. The kitchen looks very different now.

Alan’s daughter Franny is a jazz singer with a band called the Jets. They played an Amy Winehouse set yesterday. Dazzle Jazz @ Baurs. I saw her there three years ago when she decided to give up music and had a farewell show. Felt like I’d seen the end, so I wanted to see the beginning. She’s young.

Invited Jon. We had dinner, enjoyed the show. The band took a while to gel, but when they got there, it was good. Being there was therapeutic for me. Saw a lot of CBE’ers and had time with Jon. He’s on a beta blocker now which seems to have calmed him down. A good thing.

I can now find my way out of Denver without GPS. That feels good. It’s taken a while since I’m not in Denver often. The Mountains, as Jen pointed out long ago, line the western horizon. Angle toward them and you get outta town.

As I drove home last night, the setting sun backlit the Front Range, giving it a paper cutout look with jagged peaks in black against a blueblack and white sky. Beautiful, poignant.

When I turned off 470 onto 285, my favorite sign shone up ahead: Watch for Rocks and Wildlife. That’s home.

 

 

Dogs, Family, Hawai'i, Health, Mountains, Shadow Mountain

Agency

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Beltane and the Shadow Mountain Moon

Friday gratefuls: A boy and his dog, asleep together on the carpet. Cool morning Air off the Ocean. Korean burgers prepared as a joint Korean-American enterprise. Readiness to return home. Kep and Rigel. Kate, always Kate.

Sparks of joy and awe: Dawn. The North Shore of Oahu: surf’s up!

Closing days on this journey. Monday night, 9:30 pm. Colorado, 8:30 am Tuesday. Back up the Mountain. I’m a different man than the one who landed here on May 14th. Less jagged, less fraught. More peaceful. A time for which gratitude seems inadequate.

It’s the first time I’ve been to Hawai’i without Kate. During the first months I’m without Kate. Bittersweet? Yes, but good, too. On my own. As I’m learning how to be on my own. Again.

She would not have liked Oahu. Too urban, too distanced from the native Hawai’i. It’s still here, of course, its echoes in the Sunrise, the Palm Trees, the Trade Winds, the Outrigger Canoes, the native Hawai’ians. But it’s also noisy, paved, car-ridden, and cluttered with houses and shops and buildings. The built Oahu contradicts the Island itself. I can see why the Ohana folks want to kick the haoles off the Island.

Last Hebrew alphabet class today. Read the piece I wrote about language. Well received. Made me smile to see its effect. I’ve needed that affirmation, especially now. Part of the healing in this time here. An accident of timing, but a good one.

All during the class the Mourning Doves called. Mourning has its beauty, its capacity to call in the Dawn. Which rose as the class progressed and the Doves sang. Helping me call in the dawn of a new, changed life.

The need for agency is a powerful one, perhaps the defining characteristic of life itself. I’ve been very passive here. Sitting, watching TV. Some exercise but stopped now due to a painful something or other in my right upper leg or hip. Not able to leave the base until I got my pass, then feeling too settled in. This blog, a few meals, walks. That’s about it.

When we’ve done sight seeing, Joseph has driven. I chose the Nu’uanu Pali, the Bishop Museum, China Town and now Oahu’s North Shore but other than that we’ve gone where Joseph though would interest me. I’m proactive on a trip. Not this time. Not much.

Seems to fit with mourning and grieving. Letting the weight settle, feelings come back into balance. That’s not passive at all, my agency here internal. Tending to process, staying aware, listening to my heart.

As leaving approaches, my yearning for agency has risen. And there will be plenty of opportunity when I get back to Shadow Mountain. A few unfinished administrative pieces like updating the title of the car, settling with Social Security on survivor’s benefits, dealing with Evergreen Mortuary. Seeing friends, getting back to CBE. Shopping. Cooking. Writing. Dealing with my leg. Another PSA the second week of August.

Life as I will know it. Considering, gently, slowly, the future. Where to live. How to live. What to engage, what to prune. Feels exciting.

Visitor on my first day of radiation. 2019

 

Minnesota, Mountains, The West, US History, Weather +Climate

June 17 addenda

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Beltane and the Shadow Mountain Moon

The basilica, Minneapolis. From my hotel room.

The growing season turning red hot. Dry. Minnesota, that state of lakes and the Superior Lake, of -30 nights in January, of down coats and cabins, all red. And not a drop of rain to share. How can this be? It’s not Minnesota’s color. Brown is the color of the West, of the Mountains. Not 45 degrees latitude, half way to the Northpole.

We know these insults in the Rockies. Past that line where we all get less than 20 inches of Rain. For the whole  year. Yes, we know. We suffer it, fold up a few tents, turn off the lawn sprinklers, run the AC. Fight Wildfires, hope they don’t burn our home. But. Minnesota? The world is out of joint.

On Oahu where I sit writing this we’re in the warmish dryish season where the temps tend to be in the 80’s and Rain still falls. Twice in the last two days. Then, there’s all that Ocean. The Mountains squeeze out purified Ocean drops, fling them at the already green, always green slopes.

Here it’s pretty much as usual. Or, maybe I think that because I know this world much less well. I recall reading that the tropics will be affected least by global warming. Sea level rise though. Vanuatu has advertised its extinction. Do not want to go the way of Atlantis. I understand.

As the world literally burns, Republican and capitalist violinists play on, from the pent house to the mountain retreat to the air chilled vaults of Swiss banks.

Dogs, Family, Feelings, Friends, Holidays, Memories, Mountains, Shadow Mountain, Third Phase, Travel

Penultimate Day in Colorado

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Beltane and the Island Moon

Thursday gratefuls: The intricate web of people, near and far, family, friends who held and hold me as I walk, slowly, this most ancientrail. Emily, who will love Rigel and Kep while I’m gone. Rigel and Kep, my home companions. The Ancient Ones. CBE. MVP tonight. Covid 19 test at Walgreen’s today. Jet travel. The great moisture we’ve gotten in May so far.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Mountain Night Sky. Lift. (airplane wings) The vastness of the World Ocean and the  Islands sprinkled throughout. Life.

Our Korean angel

 

After plowing through several usernames on different sites as I changed our information to my information, I found one I could use and not have to start over: animist. Guess it’s not front of mind for hardly anybody. Yeah. (psst. Don’t tell. Though. I do use a password manager.)

The safety deposit box and all banking accounts are now in the trust, the Olson Buckman-Ellis family trust. The big advantage of this is that, at my death, either Joseph or Jon can write checks, access the savings and the safety deposit box. It was simpler for me since I was the joint account holder, but it will be a different situation when I die. A little extra work now makes life easier for them.

I’m also switching to all online bill paying through Wells-Fargo. Easier, quicker, better records. Cheaper, too.

Tuesday morning it took right at 2 hours to remove Kate from the Verizon account and establish me as the account owner. Will said, “She’s going by the book.” I sat in the uncomfortable plastic chair as he calmly talked her through it. I’d spent just under that completing the banking changes with Cody. Over 4 straight hours from starting with Cody to finishing with Will.

Wiped me out. The sitting. The why of the tasks. The long interaction with other people. Slept for two and a half hours when I got back home.

It’s been a theme. The death certificates, too. Many of these tasks have taken longer than usual. Different reasons in each case. I have, however, finished everything that had to be done before I leave. Feels great, burden lifted.

More tasks still, but none that have to be done before I leave.

Called Emily and had her come out again. We chatted, exchanged information, I paid her, gave her the keys. Glad I had her come back. She’s going to be the one staying here and she’s obviously competent and caring.  Leaving the dogs is difficult. Again, a burden lifted.

Staples laminated my proof of vaccine card. Free. A smart move on their part. I also faxed the death certificate to OptumRx. After the I pushed the button for send, the fax machine reported it was in deep sleep. Huh? Several minutes later it woke up, printed a receipt.

Breakfast now. Get started packing. Shouldn’t take too long, but has to get done. Covid test at Walgreen’s at 10:45. Info for Hawai’i’s safe traveler program. Prevents a 10 day quarantine. Worth it.

MVP tonight. Appropriate. Reconnect in person with folks, some of whom I haven’t seen in a year. Others came to make the minyan at Kate’s service and at shiva. This gives me a chance to reenter the in person world of CBE before I leave. Glad for that chance.

Bees, Dogs, Family, Feelings, Garden, Great Wheel, Judaism, Memories, Minnesota, Mountains, Plants, Shadow Mountain, Third Phase

Hey, Pardner

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Beltane and the Moon of Mourning

Saturday gratefuls: Kate, sticky with the honey harvest. Kate, shepherding me into a shower, giving me antihistamines after multiple bee stings. Kate, Celt, and I at the St. Kate’s art fair in St. Paul. Cody Wise, a Wells Fargo Banker. Rich Levine, bee keeper. Rabbi Jamie. Mark Koontz, of Primitive Landscaping. He will extend and replant the Iris bed and put in three Miss Kim lilacs in the back. BJ live on the radio with Schecky.

Sparks of Joy: Beekeeping. Getting tasks done.

Wild grapes waiting for Kate to turn them into jelly

Yesterday afternoon I pulled out all the honey harvesting equipment: uncapping knife and rake, solar wax renderer, motorized extractor, buckets, and filters. Took it to the driveway so Rich could pick it up for our work this morning with Sofia.

As I moved these objects, each last touched by us in 2014 when we moved, a wave of sadness and longing swept over me. Kate and I were partners. We grew flowers, picked fruit in our orchard, planted and harvested vegetables, managed a pack of dogs. My partner is dead. I missed her so much in that moment. Went back inside, sat down, cried for a bit. Not paroxysmally, but tears running down my face.

We were bound together by those things of the soil, of the four-leggeds, of the six-legged. It was a good life until the physical burden of became onerous. The move to the mountains, here on Shadow Mountain, came at a time when we needed to set down those tasks, pass them onto the younger couple that bought our Andover home.

We partnered again, living in the move. It took us most of 2014 to get ready and we worked hard. Once here in the Rockies we found ourselves tested by cancer, by Jon’s divorce, by Kate’s medical issues. Through it all. Partners.

Even to the last. Death with dignity. Yes, the right choice for you, I said. Even beyond the last. I’ve hired a landscaper who will fulfill two of Kate’s last wishes, a larger Iris bed in front and Lilacs planted in back. Half of her ashes will go into the Iris bed in August when family gathers to honor her on her birthday, August 18th.

Those tears, that sadness. It was for the good stuff. The way we lived together, always. Yes, I miss my pard, as we might say here in the West, but the knowledge and memory of how we were together does and will sustain me as I move forward.

Grief is the price we pay for love.

 

Aging, Colorado, Dogs, Family, Friends, Health, Judaism, Mountains, Our Land and Home, Shadow Mountain, The Move, The West, Third Phase

Considerations

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Ostara and the Ovid Moon of Metamorphoses

Saturday gratefuls: Tough towels. Morning lucidity. Vaccines. Kate’s appointment today. Georgia GOP. No doubt now about their racist, oligarchic ideology. The Voting Law. Ditching the filibuster.

Sparks of Joy: Vaccine #2 on April Fool’s Day.

Gabe’s bris

Miracles in my world. The greening of the Lodgepoles. The leafing out of the Aspen. (both of these I’m anticipating) A Black Mountain decked in white. Iris rhizomes throwing up stalks for another year. (this, too, anticipated) Fawns. Calves. Colts. Life. Abundant and rich. Puppies. Dogs. Love. Mountains. Justice. Memories. So many, everywhere. Hallelujah.

Oh. Terrible night. Kate talking throughout the night, explaining her dreams to herself, she said. Lotsa lost sleep for both of us. Makes everything more difficult.

Contacted Jewish Family Service in Denver. They’re sending a social worker out who specializes in gerontology. With her we’ll develop a plan, perhaps, plans, that we can use to define our next year, few years. Housing options. In-home health care options. That sort of thing.

There are lots of services available but knowing which ones exist, which might come to the mountains, costs, is difficult. At best. Same with housing options including, but not limited to, buying another home.

Kate’s healthspan, lifespan are critical, but unknown. I imagine this will include some more time with Dr. Thompson, consulting. Mine are, too, but I’m the more functional at the moment. Dogs are a crucial element. Our stuff is less of an issue. We can sell or keep. My library can be sold in whole or in part. In that sense we’re portable. Except for the Dogs.

I suppose you could say, why didn’t they consider all this before they moved to the Mountains? Fair enough. We did give it cursory attention, but we both felt good, were planning for a healthier time than we got. Didn’t happen.

Shadow Mtn. Drive, down the hill a mile from home. Black Mtn ahead

Living in the Mountains is a big adventure for us, something we wanted long before we decided to move. I don’t regret it, not for a minute. Even if it seems foolish. Even if it was foolish. To lose a sense of adventure, of new possibilities, is to die before the grave.

We’ve had six years so far. A really long vacation in a place people come to from all over the world. Would I make the move knowing what I know now? Maybe not, so I’m glad we did it without knowing.

Rigel and a bull Elk in our back a day before my first radiation treatment.

My hope is that we will find a combination of home health care services that allow us to remain here. Moving the Dogs would be very difficult. They’re both older, Rigel beyond the expected life span of large breed Dogs at 12, and Kep turning 10 this year.

I’m still alive, healthy for 74. Love Kate, the dogs, our house, family, extended and birth, our CBE friends, my Ancient friends. I love reading, learning, writing, creating. Colorado and the West. The humid East. The Midwest. The Mountains and all of our wild Neighbors. Neither resigned to life, nor resigning from it.

Ready for this moment and the next. Here I come.

Garden, Great Wheel, Holidays, Humanities, Memories, Mountains, Myth and Story, Our Land and Home, Plants, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant., Shadow Mountain, Third Phase, Weather +Climate

They Say It’s His Birthday!

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Spring! and the Ovid Moon of Metamorphoses

Shoutout to birthday boy Publius Ovidius Naso, or Ovid as we know him in the English speaking west. He’d be two thousand and fifty-four today.

Saturday gratefuls: Safeway pickup. Kabob skewers. Kate’s fluid flowing. Psalms class finish. New class start April 9. Writing poetry. Colorado Mountain Sun. Ancient ones on Justice. Vaccines. April Fool’s Day: shot II for me.

Sparks of Joy: Unclogging Kate’s feeding tube and avoiding another ER adventure. Wu wei, the Way of my life.

March 1, meteorological spring. No romance in that one. March 20, today, 5:37 MST, the Vernal Equinox. Spring. Ostara. Bunnies and crosses and parting of seas, oh my! Lots of romance, lots of theological pulling and hauling. This religion defining moment: resurrection and another: the Exodus. I settle these days for the Sun and the Earth’s celestial equator. See this explainer if you need more. More or less equal hours of Sun and night.

Yes. We’ve moved from the transitional time of Imbolc to the birthing blooming buzzing time. Spring. No wonder the Anglo-Saxons, those Northern European ancestors of so many of us, chose a fertility goddess, Eostre, to celebrate. Estrogen. Ostara. Easter. Yes, the Catholics took her name, added it to the resurrection celebration, and, voila: Easter!

Jesus as Eostre. A dying and rising God like Tammuz, Adonis, Attis, Dionysus, Osiris, or Jesus seem like good company for a fertility goddess. Any gardener can testify to the thrill of planting dusty brown clumps of vegetative matter in the Fall of the year and in the Spring of the next year, the rapture of a moistened bed pierced by green shoots, then Tulips, Crocus, Grape Hyacinth, Iris, Lilies in colorful flower.

Isn’t resurrection a matter of taking a dead thing, or what appears to be a dead thing, putting it away, and having it rise out at the right time? If you listened to the Southern Gospel Revival’s rendition of “Ain’t No Grave” )two posts below this one), you heard the line, “Ain’t no grave, can keep my body down.” Further on, “When that trumpet sounds, I’m a risin’ from the ground.” Could be sung by every Tulip bulb I ever planted.

This is the right time to celebrate those things you may have planted a while back, projects or dreams that have needed some time in the grave or the soil or the unconscious.

It’s also the right time to look at the bed you’ve tended, the one in which you planted them, your life. There might be weeds, or, as I prefer, plants out of place. Note that this means you may have good habits or plans or projects that have become plants out of place in your life. You may have to remove them so your new projects and dreams will flourish.

Ask Eostre for help. You might find her in your anima, perhaps buried in your shadow. She’ll burst out, give things a boost up, if you let her. I’m sitting right now on Shadow Mountain, imagine what lies beneath.