Monday, June 20, 2011

The Progression–Post 2

An analysis of our lives will generally render one of two things: insight or confusion. The outcome will depend on various factors, but will mainly rest on whether or not we have prepared and are ready to know our selves on a deeper level. In order to do that, we have to accept the fact that we are not perfect beings and that we, too, carry blame and responsibility for the way our lives have turned out and that each of us as an individual has the power to create change in our own life, but that we must take the initiative.

We went on an eight mile hike with Ursula and Dee Dee on Saturday. It was partly cloudy and we had a couple of minor rain showers, but it was a spectacular day. I carried the camera to be sure to have photos to post, but forgot to take the camera out until the last half mile or so. I was so caught up in the splendor of the day that pictures didn’t cross my mind. Since this was the first hike of the year, both Ben and I are stiff and sore, but it’s the type of soreness – sometimes physical, sometimes mental – that makes us feel the accomplishment we gain every time we start something new or refresh ourselves with getting back into a seasonal routine.
Spring and summer always start later for us here on Muddy Creek than for our neighboring communities (and, yes, fall and winter start earlier) so we’ve enjoyed watching the trees burst into bloom in Livingston for the last two to three weeks and as soon as we get a sunny day, we’ll watch them bloom here; they’ve started with a few hesitant blossoms already and they’re ready to burst, they’re just waiting for some assurance there will be bees out and about that they can lure in to do their work.
In spite of our cold, rainy weather (and perhaps because of it) Ben and I grew impatient waiting for summer, so our garden is fully planted. We usually plant after the first of July because we came to expect frosts all through June, but most of the last few years we haven’t had a hard frost during the month of June, sometimes even in May. The tender plants have started acclimating to their home in the garden and, so, should be able to take a light frost if we get one. Those we know cannot take any frost are in the greenhouse. So now we’re waiting again, for sunshine and warm growing weather, with hope for the future: we sow and nurture, weed and thin the excess, mulch and water all through the growing season, anticipating a rich return, which is purely dependent on external forces, like so much of what goes on in our lives.
Life is a gamble, it always has been. We do all we know to do and then lean on ‘hope,’ despite knowing how devastating ‘hope’ can be, and depend on what we’ve experienced in the past. And if that fails, then we have to force ourselves to focus on new ways to get through. We  humans are a resilient species; so, we gird ourselves up tighter to keep ourselves standing; we engage our brains; then we move on. It’s the way we are, the way we’ve always been. When times are tough, we toughen up. Some of us take a little longer to make changes, but we all have the innate fortitude to succeed. It’s written in our genes.

This is a picture of our mountains this past week. The level of snow here is equivalent to what the mountains around here usually look like in March or April.

The following are pictures of our hike.
How does one capture the beauty of the world in a photograph? It is impossible. When we take a picture, we settle on a capturing a tiny piece of it, but always hope, vainly, that something more will show.



Ben, Solano, Ursula, and Dee Dee



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