Sunday, August 17, 2008

Mountains

I've always loved the mountains. There just seems to be something spiritual, mystical and powerful about them. It's as if they want to take you into their arms and love you. Like parents that take a small child into arms of strength and security. I suppose some people feel that way about the ocean. It has power and purpose also. I spent a good deal of my adult life on the ocean though and can tell you from first hand experience that the sea can be and is benevolent at times but can more often be that harsh mistress you hear of than lofty peaks are. Mountainous areas can have their treacherous faces as well but somehow, I always felt better prepared for the surprises they offered.

I've been to lots of places on this earth. I've seen and traveled in mountains of such diverse character that you wonder why a generic term like "mountains" covers such a wide variety of geologic formations. Some are barren for the most part and it is amazing to me how life thrives in what appears to be an area akin to a moonscape. The magnificence of the Rockies with their transitions from one life zone to the next. Lush valleys, verdant forests, above treeline. They are almost overwhelming in their presence. Volcanic ranges with peaks that continually send up smoke signals, telling the world that they are awake and very much alive. I've seen Vesuvius, Etna (which was actually having a very minor eruption while I was there), St. Helen's, Baker, Redoubt. Beautiful and awesome in the physical power they present. For all of our technology and early warning capabilities, there is really nothing we can do with a volcanic eruption but live through it. Volcanoes are exempt from man's dominion. As much as I do love all of the mountain regions I've visited, my favorites are the Appalachians. I'm from the Southeast and though I never lived in the Great Smoky Mountains, my family visited there often when I was growing up. Maybe that's why I have such an affinity for them.

Our trips were mostly for a couple of weeks at a time but to me, it seemed like I was coming home when we got there. The air was cool and fresh. The people always so friendly and open. Things seemed slower there. Food tasted better there. Certainly, we did tourist things on these trips. What boy child wouldn't enjoy Ghost Town in the Sky. Everyone in period cowboy clothing, gunfights in the street, saloons and Can-Can girls. Gift shops with all manner of trinkets designed to remind you of your trip. Live and wooden Indians (Native Americans) dressed in traditional clothing. Traditional native dances and stories. These things were all great but the best part, for me, was the mountains themselves. We would take long hikes through the forest, ever climbing upward, to be rewarded with views that were just magnificent. Sometimes the tree leaves were green below, sometimes a tapestry of color. The waterfalls, some large and some not so large seemed to invite you into the coolness of their bounty. Looking back, I see it now as if they were saying "I bring you water and life". There were times when we would stop by the side of the road and fill mason jars with spring water that flowed down from the rocks. It was cold and good and we had no fear of bacteria. Never seemed to have any effect on us other than refreshment. I used to love taking my shoes and socks off and walking in the rocky streams, fishing or looking for fish. I don't think I ever caught any but that wasn't really the point. Some days, we just drove in and around the area we were visiting. Old log cabins that appeared to have been standing for a hundred years. Roadside stands that sold fruit, vegetables and honey. Local people wearing overalls and old gingham dresses. Men sitting on the porches of old stores playing bluegrass. My dad often liked to stop and talk with the men and I'd get to sit and listen. They just seemed like nice folks to me. Now, as an adult, I wish that I could talk with those people who had so much knowledge of how things were there, both then and in their past. I realize now how hard life might have been for some of those mountain folk. Struggling to get by. Doing the best they could with what they had. I suppose they are all gone now.

Though most of the time we stayed in motels while visiting, sometimes we camped out. When we did camp, it was mostly in the national park camp grounds. That was okay with me. We had the smell of wood smoke and food cooked over the fire. The bath houses (when we had them) were convenient and there were other campers to talk with. It was always fun to swap stories of things we had seen and done during our visit. I always wanted to stay near the stream so I could hear the babbling and burbling of the water. The sound reminding me of quiet chatter and laughter. The stream passing by, aware of the people in the campground but not concerned with them. Absorbed in it's own existence.

Much has changed there over the years. Air pollution has become worse. I don't believe that I would drink water straight from the rocks anymore. All manner of people have moved there from all over the world. It's a lot more crowded now. I don't suppose you can blame anyone for wanting to live there though. The mountains there are still beautiful. Still peaceful. There is still the sense that the mountains want to embrace you. In this fast paced world we live in, I think most people want to find a location to settle that offers comfort and peace. Out of the rat race.

Usually, when we look back at things in life, we see with much more clarity than we do in the present. Foresight can be a wonderful thing when you have it. Today, I'm wishing that I'd had enough foresight to buy land there so many years ago. Not for any kind of financial gain but to have that quiet cove to rest in until my time comes. Who knows. It could still happen. If so, maybe I could live long enough and gather enough lore about life in the mountains to pass on to someone that would be interested. Keeping truth and legends alive for another generation or two.

Thursday, August 14, 2008

A Home of Your Own

I think most people want a place of their own, a place they call home. There is something comforting about the thought that at the end of the day, you get to go home. Sanctuary. A place of rest and peace. All of your things are there. It may be nothing more than a comfortable couch and your cat but it's yours. It's you.

During my life, I've lived in a couple of homes that were mine. Even though they were old and needed lots of love and care, they were mine. My first house was a simple, craftsman style, cottage sort of place. It was by far my favorite. I put every extra dime I made, over 5 years, into it. The original owner was a lady that never married. She grew up in the house that her father built and eventually had to sell it because of heart trouble. Almost 60 years under one roof. That's pretty amazing. I was in military service at that time and ultimately had to sell it due to a transfer. Though I wanted to leave the duty station I was at, I did not want to leave my home. It had become part of who I was. The bright part of selling it though was that the buyer was a lady that had grown up in that neighborhood. She had moved away early in her life and had not lived in the area for more than 20 years. She really wanted that house and we did everything we could to make that happen for her. She wanted to go home and we understood that.

A lot of time has passed since then. I have often thought about the man that built my first house and why he built it the way he did. It would be easy to think that the design and plans he followed were the most expedient for him at the time, but I don't want to think that way. I believe that he had more in his heart and mind than an attitude of "just need to get it done". He was building a home for his family. Something I always wanted to do. That house was basically a conventional, stick built home. I like that just fine and may, some day, build one similar to it but as the years have passed I've become more interested in alternative building methods.

I started to learn about other ways of building from Mother Earth News. It has always been a pretty good source of back to the land kind of information. Some of their politics aside, most of the articles dealt with how to do things economically and in ways that were Earth friendly. One thing leads to another and pretty soon I had books dealing with all manner of ideas for personal shelter. I've seen house plans that call for old automobile tires, rammed earth, straw bales, underground and materials scrounged from the local dump. I've always liked logs. Especially the squared off type with dovetail corners. One summer, I went to a timber framing school in upstate NY for a week, followed by a week of how to build with cord wood. I really like that concept. The strength of a timber frame with cord wood walls as in-fill between the frame members. It's just basically masonry and firewood but can be quite beautiful if you use a little creativity in the process. The best thing about building with an alternative mindset is that in most all instances, the cost is very low by comparison to conventional building. Most people that I've known of in life that built this way, didn't have mortgages. They built as they could with the material they could acquire over time. In your mind you might think "how could anything alternative be as nice as what the common real estate market has to offer". I want to say that I have seen some of these places with my own eyes and most all are more beautiful and comforting than anything that money can buy.

Just because we are adults does not mean that we cannot dream and ultimately make our dreams a reality. I hope to build my own home someday. I don't know exactly what kind of house it will be or what method I'll use to build it. I just know that I want my own home again. A place that is mine. My sanctuary. My place of rest and comfort. Maybe in the end, someone else will live in it and think, "this was someones home".

Did you ever watch the Lord of the Rings movies that New Line produced? Bilbo's house at Bag End had a beautiful round door that was painted green and supported by the most ornate and wonderful hand wrought iron work. That's my kind of door.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Illusion of Winter Past

As I commuted to work yesterday it began to drizzle rain and the sky was lowering. Since it is August and the temperature is at least 75 by the time I get going, I had the air conditioner on. The sensation of overcast sky with light rain and cool air reminded me of late fall/early winter where I grew up. By comparison to where I live now, we had real winter there. We would most always have at least one good ice storm. As an adult I understand the inconvenience of that kind of weather, but as a kid, power outages, slippery roads and damage from broken tree limbs could never have entered my mind as anything that mattered. An ice storm was the most beautiful of all weather. It covered everything. Trees, power lines, blades of grass took on a whole new persona. With the sun blotted out by low clouds, it all seemed sort of ominous and over bearing. As if everything had acquired some new but benevolent power. Like some coat of armor that nature had bestowed on it's outside creatures, just to show humans that it could. In the gray light, it was cold and quiet outside. It made me realize how small that I really was. I remember feeling at peace with the world during those storms.

As the freezing rain came down and the temperature dropped, we would all watch it unfold. Outside for a while and inside through the windows. You could hear the incessant, light tapping of the ice crystals against the house. Everyone moving quietly, not saying much. If we were fortunate, from my point of view, it would go on all night. I remember drifting off to sleep listening to the light patter of the ice and rain.

The best part of an ice storm is the next morning. Looking back, I am still amazed at how it would transform my outside world. If the sun came out, everything glittered. Bejeweled with billions of diamonds. When I walked in the yard the grass would crunch under my steps. All the leaves and berries on our holly tree a wonderful, shiny, green and red. Each individual green pine needle coated with it's own layer. Icicles would often hang off the edge of the roof. My little brother and I would pick them off and eat them as if they were the most delicious ice pop treats. We would use them as swords and throw them as spears. The adults would complain and we would laugh with delight. How wonderful to be caught at that moment in time.

Maybe I'll live in a place like that again someday. I hope so. I hope that I never lose the sense of magical wonder in such a thing. I long for winter but especially the winters of my youth.

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Right or Left?

The other day I was cruising along to work and passed a pickup truck that was just sort of ambling along in the slow lane. As I got close, I could see a sticker in the rear window that said "I think, therefore I am Republican". I suppose he believed that Democrats don't think about much of anything more important than how they feel. It seemed like the statement was just another version of an age old contrast. Left/Right. Me/You. Up/Down. Sweet/Salty. It reminded me of a commercial I saw on the TV recently where this woman was advocating the use of some new birth control drug. On the one side the girl appears to be conservative and straight laced. On the other, she is casual and carefree. It's the same girl but with two different perspectives on life. Conservative girl is logical. Casual girl is emotional. I guess the guy in the truck probably considered himself logical and would never lower his perspective to the simple state of being emotional. Politically anyway.

In my opinion, the leaders of our country need to be logical. They need to be thinking about the next steps for our country. How our actions today are going to effect our history tomorrow. That is important to me. However, it's also important that these leaders are sensitive to the needs of the people that put them in office. What good is it to be so far to the right that we lose our understanding of the needs of our fellow countrymen? Or to be so far left that we can't get the business of America done in a timely and efficient manner? We put our trust in those politicians. We the people understand that our country must be strong but our leaders must remember that we have human necessities that must be met. We want our leaders to remember the humanity of our nation as well as the potential power that our country can project.

I personally don't care what political party someone is affiliated with. I want to know that whoever is elected is a person of character, ethics, understanding and compassion. I want that person to be strong. I want that person to be thoughtful, to think. I also want that person to be have a strong feeling for humanity. I don't care if they pronounce themselves Republican, Democrat, Independent, whatever. Those are just labels that, in my opinion, don't mean anything. I want leaders with good minds and good hearts that have the best interests of the United States in the forefront of their daily existence.

I guess that I'm neither right or left or center for that matter. Surely, there is someone in this country that can fill the shoes that I imagine must be worn by the leader of this great nation.

Sunday, August 10, 2008

A Burning Analogy

While driving to work recently, I saw in the distance a plumb of black smoke rising in the distance. As I crested a hill, I could see that there was a vehicle of some sort engulfed in flames. It was one of those moments when you ask yourself "why do I not have a camera with me". As I got closer I could see that it was a minivan and the fire was a conflagration. The next thought I had was how it could, at any moment, explode.

What I didn't notice, until I got closer, was that the driver was quickly walking away from the fire. He was an average looking guy. About 40 with longish hair, wearing jeans and a ball cap. Carrying one of those igloo lunch boxes that have the little button on the side that you push and the top slides over sideways. What struck me as interesting was that he was looking back over his shoulder as he headed north. I'm sure his thoughts were somewhere on the order of "glad I got out in time". In the state where I reside, the only insurance required for drivers is liability. It was an older van. Probably a work vehicle for the guy. He very well may have been thinking with regret, "what am I gonna do now".

In this day of extravagant gasoline prices, I think a lot of people are trying to rethink what our next steps are going to be in dealing with dwindling natural resources. The increase in prices for fossil fuels is having a direct impact on lots of other commodities that we have, for so long, taken for granted. Who really considered how corn would play such a significant role in the initial response to the fuel crisis? Farmers have probably understood this for years but the average Joe or Joan most likely never considered such a thing. The prices of beef, chicken, milk, etc. have all climbed higher and higher. The basic staples of life are getting so expensive that many people are having to cut back or find alternative means to supply their daily food needs. It's almost as if we are working at the daily grind just to subsist. Making just enough money to pay for the fuel to get to and from work so we can make enough money to buy more fuel to get to and from work. A vicious circle. Where's the quality of life in that?

When I noticed the man walking away from the burning minivan, looking over his shoulder, it struck me as a sort of metaphor or analogy about the average person's attitude regarding the times we live in today. We have lived with so much for so long that we have quite literally taken the bounty of the earth for granted. In the United States, we are such wasteful consumers in a general sense. You all know this to be true. The look on the man's face, as I passed by at 60mph seemed to be one of resolution. His face seemed to reflect a new beginning. An understanding that we must turn our back on the methods and accepted practices of recently past generations. We must move forward. We must embrace new understandings of how we will live life here on earth. The ways that we work, travel, create and live on a daily basis will need new direction. Though there may have been a flicker of regret in the man's mind for the past and present, there was also a strength of character that said I can adapt. I can overcome. I can face these changes head on and ultimately make a better life for myself and for those that come after me.

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

Late Start

Hello and welcome.

If you're reading this then you have most probably taken the time to read the "about me" thing and have gotten a small peek at where I'm at in heart and mind. I titled this post Late Start because that's just what it is. I've tried blogging before and didn't get very far. After the first 5 or 6 posts I just dwindled off to nothing. I think there is some good stuff over there but maybe I need to do something else with it. Something about taking the time to sit down and collect my thoughts on paper (electronic or otherwise) that I just haven't been able to bring myself to on a regular basis. This particular blog was created a month or so ago and this is the first post to it. So.....Late Start.

I've had friends tell me that I write well and that I should at least journal. I guess that's what this is in a way. Whether my friends are being honest or just kind is something that you can decide for yourself. I like to write but honestly, I've never written anything that really meant anything to anyone. Personal letters perhaps. Recently, I met a woman that is a writer. She does this part time while maintaining the complex management of her household. Her advice to me? Write everyday and don't give up your day job. Sounds familiar doesn't it? Sage advice to people that write, passed down through the ages.

In my daily life, I commute one hour each way to and from work. When I was younger, the time was spent mostly listening to the radio. Now-a-days, I spend that time just thinking about things. My life. Things I see on the interstate. Ideas, notions, perceptions, musings. Many times I've had, what I consider, profound epiphanies about life in general but they slipped away as I maneuvered through traffic or was distracted by the beauty of tree lined asphalt and well manicured medians. Someone suggested to me that I should keep a recorder with me as I drive and jot my thoughts down there for later recollection. I may try that. I guess it would be better than trying to write on paper and drive at the same time.

Anyway.

I suppose that's what this blog will be about as time progresses. Thoughts and musings while driving. I'm sure other areas of my life will find their way in here as well. That is if I can be faithful and consistent enough to write every day or so. I hope you'll come back from time to time and tell me what you think.