A DAY OF WHALES

Southern California Shoreline

 This place we're staying, and which we leave on Monday has been full of magical experiences.  I mean the kind that evoke awe, that intake of breath where you feel respect, wonder or even a touch of fear, as when you first hold your newborn or witness her grown-up achievements, when you stand at the edge of a canyon or by a water fall, or when you swim with the dolphins or sight a whale.  Those things that take us out of ourselves so much that we don't want to move away. We all have them. We want to stay with the moment.  And when this happens in nature we receive a healing like no other.  

While I love home best, where I live does not have mountains or whales.  Our dear friends who live here in Santa Barbara, California have both.  History, mountains and valleys, whales and seals and dolphins, orange and lemon trees, a bit of the bohemian which I like, views from every hillside. I can't get over it.  

Yesterday was whale watching day.  We drove to Oxnard Harbour, about 40 minutes away, and booked a Winter Whale Watch.  The whales hang out in the channel between the southern California coastline and the Channel Islands, just doing their thing.  The day was bright and clear, gentle swells and blue-black water about six-hundred feet deep the captain said.  And all about humpback whales spouting, fluking and diving.  We stayed out for hours.  So many people live off the water, fishing, boating, sailing, diving; scientists, oceanographers, marine biologists.  What is miraculous for me is an everyday event for somebody else.  

But whales are special.  It's their size, isn't it?  There's something about size that pushes a natural wonder up into the awe category.  The mountains and valleys, looking up at the cliffs or down at the frothing waves.  We've been doing a lot of that.   And yes, we have the Atlantic off the North Carolina coastline, but our coast is sea level, not a cliff in sight.  Our wonderful sandy southern coast is too warm for a whale highway, or for seals.  

This has been a healing time, something I am always up for.  Nature helps depression, boredom, fatigue, stress; it even helps our grief.  We are as much a part of nature as any other animal, part of its rhythm, if we let ourselves be.  The whale watch was a group of 35 strangers with nothing in common but an overwhelming desire that day to take a boat ride far from land and see whales.  What an interesting thing to have in common.  We made space for each other, helped each other get a better view, shared the wealth.  

I suspect I won't see whales again for a long time. We have much else to do in our lives, most of it the ordinary chores of an ordinary day, nothing wrong with that.  Like most North Carolinians, we'll go to our own beach at some point and enjoy the hot summer days and humid nights, tiptoeing on the scorching sand and rinsing off before going indoors.  It sounds wonderful and I will be glad to be home. 

I don't usually make a general comment that Life is Good.  Because I know how varied our burdens are, my own included.  But as for today, why not accept it:  today this life is good.  Wow, that feels like a prayer.

      In gratitude, Nina Naomi

THAT SOMETHING WILD

 Coyotes don't surprise me, their howling far away,

Or closer but not visible.

And yet the dog's alert, my maltipoo.

He turns and waits for me before he leaves the step,

When clocks strike ten and dark it is.

My torch the only light unless the moon is full.

But last night straight across our path a red fox sauntered by.

From whence he came I could not tell 

'Till Wiggles sniffed his trail down to the boardwalk.

It had lain where I had walked that day.

I do not want a fox so close although it carried awe.

A small intake, a taint of joy 

That something wild should freely go

And pass me by without a glance.

And I should live where fox and deer, 

Fat badger, possum, Hawk and owl 

and who-knows-what reside.

All calling home where I call home, 

And none surprised by me. 

Home

ABOUT AWE, PART 3

Site Plan of Butler Wash Ruins, Prehistoric Anasazi Cliff Dwelling

Written on October 12, 2019

Another day in AWE Country.  Not everything goes well of course.  Away from home, hauling travel gear, covered in dust.  One lodging is more than you expect, another far worse.  Making changes is not easy.  I'm less flexible than I'd like, grumpy, and ashamed of myself.  My husband's grumpy too.  We've gotten a slow start today.  Ever happen to you? Then we get out of the car and start our hike. 

The goal is to reach the cliff dwellings of the Ancient Puebloans (Anasazi), who lived here in alcoves from about AD 900-1350.  We're in Bears Ears National Monument in southeastern Utah.  The cave ruins are nestled on Comb Ridge, a dramatic geologic fold about a mile wide and 80 miles long.  These and the prehistoric rock carvings are what I now want to see most on this trip.  Even though they won't be as spectacular as the hoodoos ("About Awe," posted 10/18/19), there's something about being with the remnants of ancient civilizations.  

Marked Trail to Cliff Overlook

The walk isn't long but the temperature's dropped to 50⁰.  We're in the desert and the walking changes everything.  All I feel is the sun on my back and shoulders.  All I see is scrub land, Prickly Pear Cacti, yellow Rubber Rabbitbrush, Desert Sage and Mormon Tea.  The desert sand gives way to slickrock--large and flat and easy walking. We're on a plateau headed toward a small canyon.  More sun and then the cliffs and dwellings come in to view.  

Butler Wash Ruin as seen from Overlook

Think of it--people just like us, living in cliffs, farming and hunting, building, cooking everyday, tending their toddlers, loving each other, giving birth and growing old.  And all at the cliff's edge.  What agility they must have had!  What spiritual lives, feeling at one with nature. The same instincts to feed and protect their families, to shelter them.  To be tender or angry, happy or sad.  I'm in AWE of them!  

I want to carry these feelings home with me, so that we connect with our neighbors not just horizontally, but also vertically through time. So that we preserve their treasures. Somehow these people have managed to connect with me.  So nature and civilization lift my mood, set things right. I'm learning so much, and through all my senses: climbing, touching, seeing, hearing. . . . There are layers of goodness everywhere. 
 

Petroglyphs near Bluff, Utah

 


 

ABOUT AWE, PART 2

Zion National Park, Utah

Written October 9, 2019

We are still in AWE Country.  Last Christmas (Post, "Merry Christmas To All," 12/23/18) I wrote about my back surgery and the confinement it caused.  Not all bad by any means, punctuated by friends and lovely caretakers.  Well, the surgery must have succeeded because here we are following trails into canyons and up rivers and having more of those unbelievable feelings of awe.  At nature, at geological time, at God.  Not one of those tiny pleasures that I'm so grateful for every day.  But something huge! 
 

Mitten Butte, Monument Valley Navajo Tribal Park

Have you ever visited a place and thought, "What if I had been born here?  What if my family lived here and I came here all the time?"  I remember being quite young and thinking "What if this Swiss village were my home?"  Instead, I've never returned.  It was a once-in-a-lifetime thing.  This place is like that.  You want more.  More days, more nights. . . last evening in the Navajo Tribal Park it was so quiet.  We and the other visitors fell silent as the sun set.  People seemed to whisper out of respect for the landscape. 

Sunset, Monument Valley Navajo Tribal Park

In my hometown of Durham, North Carolina, one of the experiences that brings awe is listening to the Duke University Chapel organist play Widor's Toccata (1879) on the Chapel's great organ.  If you can't recall the piece, or just want to listen right now, it's easy to call up.  It's a favorite at royal weddings.  Mentioning it, I am hearing it in my head.  Sitting here in Utah writing what I'll want to post when I get home I have two blessings:  the music in my head and the canyons all around.  

Funny how awe works.  It can be there to see or hear or feel, or even just recall and recreate.  So much to be grateful for.  And right now, Number 1 on my list is my back surgeon!                           
                              With thanksgiving, Nina Naomi





 

ABOUT AWE

Hoodoos, Bryce National Park, Utah (Inspiration Point)

Written October 5, 2019

Do you live in Utah in the US?  I know readers are all over, some in places I've been and many not.  I haven't been to Portugal or Australia or Ukraine or Malaysia.  But this week we're in Utah and I am filled with awe. 

I don't especially like the term "bucket list."  Probably because it comes from "kick the bucket," slang for "drop dead."  Not a happy thought.  But the famous National Parks in Utah were on mine, let's say . . . on my Longing List.  Doesn't it feel great to reach a life-time goal? It's taken an effort to get from North Carolina to this remote place of Nature's wonders 2,188 miles from my home. 

Awe is not a feeling that happens often, but it's been happening here so frequently that I'm becoming well-acquainted with it.  It's almost like anxiety:  the stopping of breath, the opening of the chest, the widening of the heart, the flood of emotion.  The deep pulls of air.  The pureness of it.

What a change this is from my everyday.  As beautiful as the woods are where I live and the ocean's variety where I visit, this place is MORE.  It enfolds and lifts at once.  I felt this at the Grand Canyon and in seeing Old Faithful erupt. Certainly in the Alps.  And I have sometimes sat spellbound in the great cathedrals of Europe and England.  Closer to home with my babies and grand-babies.  You too?  
 

Natural Bridge, Bryce Canyon, Utah

You know the famous scene in the movie Titanic where Jack and Rose stand at the prow of the great ship, arms stretched out as if flying? The music swelling as they lean into the wind soaring with the waves?  Out here I keep seeing things that feel like that.  Walking the rim of Bryce Canyon on this windy day with all the hoodoos below, carved out of the rock like statues.  Then hiking down and and looking up at them.

Tonight at 9 pm when the darkness is absolute except for the quarter moon, there's a ranger with a telescope at Sunset Point.  Whoever shows up gets to look.  We'll be there.  Tomorrow, Zion National Park, a mere 90 minute drive, for hiking to the Narrows where the canyon walls rise a thousand feet a mere twenty feet apart.  I'm excited!

If you have a longing list you may want to put Utah on it.  It would be a trek from Portugal or Australia, that's sure.  But there are AWE SPOTS everywhere over the whole earth aren't there?  What are yours so far? Such blessings, 
                                                                       Nina Naomi

GETTING AWAY MAY BE ALL WE NEED--FALL IN THE ROCKIES

Aspens in Fall, Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado

Sometimes we have to get away, even if just for a day.  Surviving two hurricanes and with my own surgery and rehab looming, I knew that was what we needed.  A few days away from everyday cares.  Visiting our national parks is high on my list.  There are enough for anyone's lifetime. Sixty in fact, in twenty-eight states plus the Virgin Islands and American Samoa. I looked it up.  California, Alaska, Utah and Colorado have the most.  With enough credit card miles and a direct flight, I picked Colorado for us.  The Rockies!  

No where is America more beautiful than in our national parks. They belong to us all.  To drive through, hike, camp and canoe, horseback and bike ride, fish, swim, raft. . . .  So many people have been to more of our parks than I have. Eighty-four million visitors a year! 

So I found a cabin on a river--no lodge, no fancy meals, just the same cooking I do at home.  But there was elk and bison from the Safeway to grill, and Filet Mignon at  prices we've never seen in North Carolina.  The first day we saw the bright yellow aspen in full fall glory.  The second day the elk were everywhere.  We were so excited!  

Bull, Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado

And the third day it snowed!  We walked around Bear Lake then lit the fire in the cabin and settled in.

Bear Lake, Rocky Mountain National Park

Funny how even a trip of 4 nights can be a trip of a lifetime.  And planned on no notice.  Just make up our minds and go.  I see so many lessons here.  The "Just Do It" slogan of Nike, for one.  That kind of thinking can propel us to grab the chance to make a difference in our lives.  Being in nature, feeling awe, standing before majesty, these experiences are not so hard to come by.  Tomorrow I can't get on a plane, but I can go outdoors at dusk and wait for the stars to come out.  I can get up in the night and see the moon.  I can walk Mr. Wiggles before the sun comes up and feel the chill of autumn.  

Maybe you're somewhere special right now.  Or maybe you're at home and that's special.  Maybe your pansies are blooming, or your mums, and your trees are turning, or the first snow has fallen, or the berries are on your cedar trees.  Something good is happening in nature.  Whether near or far, something good is happening.  Let's enjoy it.  Let's just do it!  Nina Naomi