What if everyone owned the wilderness?
What if both rich and poor
            could spend time out in the open?
What if we could save the forests
            for all the children to come?
...with John Muir’s spirit as his guide, Theodore Roosevelt saved more wild land than any president in history.
               from: The Camping Trip That Changed America
                by Barb Rosenstock
                illustrated by Mordecai Gerstein
                Dial, 2012     
​     I’ve been from sea to shining sea. I have touched the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, but I haven’t spent much time between those two.
     I know people who have made it their life’s work to visit each National Park, all 58 of them. I don’t know anyone who has achieved this goal, though. It is a lofty goal and I’m sure one of great beauty.
     I have visited only two National Parks. All 58 are listed here: https://www.nps.gov/findapark/index.htm
     My husband and I went to Everglades National Park in 199? We decided on the three-day pass (after some whining and complaining and finally compromising). We could have stayed much longer.
     I learned that alligators can only see straight ahead of themselves. If you ever find yourself being chased by an alligator (I did not), run in a zig-zag. You will lose the alligator and live to tell the tale. 
     On the trip out West to get our sailboat (see Blog Post from 3/7/16 if you want) we travelled from Ohio across I-80 to Cheyanne WY and turned NW to Washington State. Being in charge of the map gave me (I thought) some leeway. “Oh, let’s go through Yellowstone National Park!” I enthused. “It doesn’t look like it will take us very much out of the way.”
     Actually you can travel from the east gate through the park to the west gate. It is only 83 miles. The speed limit is much less than it was on I-80, but no matter. 
     Old Faithful erupted just as we arrived, so we didn’t lose any time there. We saw lots of other small geysers and were moving west on the narrow road full of campers, tour busses and motor homes until all traffic stopped. Roadwork? Accident? No! Buffalo! A whole herd. A small herd, but still. The papa, a bunch of youngsters, and the mom. Walking right up the middle of the road.
     We were in a cargo van (no windows in the back) sitting pretty high, eyeball to eyeball with the papa and the rest as they sauntered past, looking at us. With only a thin window glass between us, I wondered if they were scared or only curious. Once they got off the road, traffic resumed. So we lost a little time. So what.
     We are leaving Florida on Thursday. Mammoth Cave is kinda on the way home. I suggested stopping in Kentucky just to see. We probably won’t, though. Maybe next time.
     I often wonder what else we are zooming past on our way from here to there and back again.
                                                                   --stay curious!

 
                                                                                                                            

When I wake up,
the sun kisses my skin.
It’s a wonderful world.
Let the new day begin!
            from: Before I wake Up...
            written and illustrated by Britta Teckentrup
            Prestel, Verlag/Random House, 2016

​      Here I am in sunny Florida, again.
      Sunset is just before 7:00 this time of year. Last Saturday, my husband and I walked to the beach, even though we knew we would not see the sun set. Too cloudy. The sun did set, though.
      The sky did not bloom into tangerine, violet, salmon, lilac, fuchsia, melon, marigold. The oily water did not send cantaloupe rays out from the sinking spot to the shore. The sun did not melt into the water like a buttery puddle. But still, it happened. Another day softened into evening and night.  
      The sun sets, but clouds, tall buildings, important or distracting conversations get in the way and I miss it. Things happen whether I pay attention or not. My world view is not shattered, though.
      According to Merriam-Webster.com cosmology is a: a branch of metaphysics that deals with the nature of the universe b: a theory or doctrine describing the natural order of the universe. Cosmetology is the job or skill of giving beauty treatments to women by washing and cutting hair, applying makeup, etc.
      Cosmetology and cosmology actually are related. Cosmology comes from Greek: Kosmos “order, world” + -logia “discourse.” Cosmetic (cosmetology) also comes from Greek: Kosmos and -ology “a subject of study or interest” and evolved through the French in the early 17th century to cosmetique and English cosmetic. Both involve order and adornment.
      Everyone’s view of reality is different. We all adorn our world order with ornaments to fit our own unique categories.
      And so back to the sunset. Beautiful and fleeting. Real and ephemeral. Universal and unique.
 
                            Cosmetic Cosmology
           Mother Nature adorns her world.
           Vibrant and subtle.
           Butterflies, flowers, trees in all their shades of green.
           My eyes, mesmerized and
           wide open,
           scrutinize, organize, mythologize it all.
           Until I blink
                for a second
                      and it’s gone.                                                                                                                                                                                                     --stay curious!

       I believe more in serendipity than I do coincidence. Here’s an example:
       Harry Colebourn found a bear at the train station. He was getting ready to leave for bootcamp and then out to fight for Canada in World War I. He took the bear with him to London and named her Winnie, after his home town, Winnipeg. But when it was time to ship out to France for the fighting, Harry thought with his heart and decided to take Winnie to the London Zoo where she’d be safe.
       One day, A. A. Milne took his son Christopher Robin to the zoo. Christopher Robin saw Winnie. They became friends and Christopher Robin was allowed to enter her enclosure and play. He made up lots of stories about Winnie-the-Pooh and his father wrote them all down.
After the war, Harry returned to visit Winnie and decided to leave her at the zoo. She was happy there, and after all, that was what he really wanted for her.
       This Friday, Winnie the Pooh by A. A. Milne and illustrated by Ernest Shepard will be ninety years old. My girls grew up with the timeless Milne/Shepard version of the Pooh stories. We played Pooh-sticks on a bridge. We sang “The Honey Song” and made up songs about bears and tiggers.
       So I’m sending my thanks to Harry and A. A. and Christopher Robin and Ernest out into to the universe and not expecting anything in return. I’m sending my thanks for the serendipitous connection that turned Winnie into Winnie-the-Pooh. I’m sending my thanks to the Grand Intention that moves the universe wonderously, mysteriously, playfully.
      The world is full of mysterious patterns and connections. Serendipity has focus, intent, and purpose. Sometimes these are knowable, even obvious. Sometimes they are obscure. No matter. I am learning to graciously say thank you when the universe sends gifts into my life.
      My list is long.
                                                                   --stay curious!

       What Mr Cleghorn said was, “no, don’t, William. I’ll take it.”
       He was as surprised as everyone else after he had said it, but when he examined the words he decided he meant them.
       “But you can’t,” said William. “What on earth would you do with it?” This had also just occurred to Mr Cleghorn, but he thought of the answer just in time.
                                                 from: Mister Cleghorn’s Seal
                                                                  by Judith Kerr
                                         HarperCollins Children’s Books, 2015
​ 
​     When I found Pumpkin, I already had two cats, a golden one, Charlie, and black, white and gray striped Tristan. This new baby kitty was skittish. Every morning and afternoon I took him some kitten food in a small plastic bowl. I shook it a couple times and called, “Here’s some breakfast (or dinner), Baby.” Then I’d walk away and he’d come out and chow down while I watched, out of sight. After about two weeks, he let me touch him. My new little golden kitten fit into the palm of my hand. His eyes were barely opened. What happened to his mamma? Brothers? Sisters?
      Well, he has a new family, now.
       I worried, “I have a golden kitty. What if I won’t be able to tell who is who?”
       I named my new kitty Pumpkin. (Thanks, Sandy!) Logical: I found him on October 1 and he was orange, like a pumpkin, even though he felt golden to me.
       Pumpkin grew into his name in a hurry! weighing in at over 14 pounds! He liked his new home. He liked to play with his brothers. They all shared their food and toys. I never wondered who was who.
       Pumpkin was a gentle cat. He loved to be brushed. He loved to watch squirrels and chipmunks. He loved to squash himself into the window-sill in the Spring and Fall.
       He loved to sit quietly with each grandchild and listen to stories and what was important at the moment.
       I thought Pumpkin had a cold. He sounded congested. It wasn’t unusual to hear him snoring gently while he slept, but I knew something was wrong when he snored even when he was awake.
       The vet said Pumpkin had a blockage (tumor) in his esophagus that interfered with his breathing. He wouldn’t get better.
       My husband and I decided to let Pumpkin go. He was brave and kind and generous to the end.
                    ?October 11, 2000 - August 24, 2016
                            Rest in peace, Pumpkin.