Category Archives: Community

Prescott Circle Trail, Segment 4: White Spar to Copper Basin, Part 2

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Posted by on in Community, Hiking and Nature, Uncategorized

April 6, 2016, Prescott-  While we were living in Phoenix, in 2002, news came of a horrific wildfire, that was bearing down on Prescott:  The Indian Fire.  It could easily have swept through Thumb Butte and down Copper Basin, slamming full force into downtown Prescott.  That didn’t happen, thanks to the Forest Service, and the fates of Nature.  As it was, though, the Indian Fire seared a large area between White Spar and Copper Basin, leaving several square miles of sticks in its wake.

On Sunday afternoon, I walked in some of the same areas affected by the Indian Fire. Wolverton Mountain rises above the trail, though no family named Clowers lives there. Quartz Mountain is reached by a side trail, about 1/2 mile south of Wolverton.  Both peaks were singed in 2002.

I began at the Copper Basin end of the segment, starting out on the Aspen Creek Trail.  The creek comes down, from the western base of Wolverton Mountain, and flows down towards Granite Creek and downtown Prescott.  The creek is barely flowing, and indeed, the ground in this area is badly in need of a soaking.

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Trailhead, Aspen Creek Trail

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Gray granite, Aspen Creek Trail

I came soon enough to the upper reach of Aspen Creek Canyon.

Aspen Creek Canyon
Aspen Creek Canyon, Prescott
Aspen Creek Canyon, Prescott

As the sun was getting a bit lower, I came to the junction with Wolverton Mountain Trail and Quartz Mountain side trail.  Walking along the Wolverton, I had several fine views of the high ridge of the Sierra Prieta Range, of which these peaks are an eastern offshoot.

Sierra Prieta Range
Junction of three trails
Sierra Prieta Range, from Wolverton Mountain Trail

A glimpse of Wolverton Mountain’s practical use was visible from the trail, though the summit itself will be the focus of a future hike.

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Summit of Wolverton Mountain, from trail.

Shortly after passing Wolverton’s eastern edge, I came to Quartz Mountain Trail.  This unique promontory will be the topic of the next post.

Out Like A Lion

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Posted by on in Community, Family, Inspiration, Personal Values, Striving, Uncategorized

March 30, 2016, Prescott-  I’ve been pretty busy this week, with work, and a brief foray into the “after work” social gathering scene.  I find it still as shallow as it was when I frequented such gatherings, before Penny came along.  People have their closed groups, and no matter that one or two might invite a newcomer, out of courtesy, it doesn’t take long for the body language to stiffen and the eye contact to move to those familiar faces.

My thoughts went today to the places where, and the people with whom, I feel at home.  Not all are my ever-agreeable supporters.  Some are critics, but they are honest critics, and are often quite helpful.  As my beloved always said, “The opposite of love is indifference”.

In this hour of a March that is headed out like a lion, after treating us to icy wind and a dusting of snow, I want to honour the places that are homes to me, in the West, since it’s been a while.

Prescott and vicinity, Flagstaff, Marana, Tubac, Bisbee, Thatcher, the Sunnyslope area of Phoenix,  Holbrook, Hopi land, Pine Springs, Reno and Carson City, San Diego and vicinity, Dana Point, San Clemente, Lomita, Santa Barbara, Ojai, Ashland (OR), Portland, Spokane, Anacortes, Wrangell, Juneau, Sitka, Ketchikan, Afton (WY), Cortez, Boulder, Colorado Springs, San Luis (CO), Socorro, Albuquerque, Truth or Consequences. I can go to any of these places, and there will be a welcoming presence.

I will talk further about my homes in the Midwest, the South, the Northeast, and the rest of the world, in subsequent posts.  The point is, I am ever grateful for all who have reached out, kept faith in me, and not abandoned me out of difference of opinion, hurt feelings, or convenience.

Let’s see whether the March Lion gives way, willingly, to the April Lamb.

Shante’s Dream

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Posted by on in children, Community, Striving

March 27, 2016, Marana-  He has only been among us, here in Arizona, for about ten days, along with his two brothers and two sisters.  None of the kids speaks English, and they only know a smattering of French. Swahili is their mainstay.  Shante (SHAN-tay), age 3, and his siblings, have come to us from DR Congo, by way of Tanzania. The children, and their caretakers, joined thirty-four others of us, at a Unity in Diversity musical festival, on this bright, but thankfully breezy and cool, Easter Sunday.

Despite all his family’s travails, Shante walks with a swagger, and a purpose.  His take on life is strictly one day- or one moment- at a time.  That is the joy of being three, nothing has assumed an air of permanence in life, as yet.  He looks up at the tall, well-built drummers, themselves having come here from the Republic of Congo-Brazzaville, speaking just enough Swahili to make the kids feel welcome.  They show Shante their drums, and lift him up, so that he may tap on the skin and feel his own rhythm start to stir.

After a few minutes of this, and a ping-ping, on the keyboard of a Cuban musician, fresh from the city of Holguin (visited by Pope Francis I, last Fall), Shante comes back down, off stage, and lingers by my seat for a bit, then goes along his way, back to be with his sisters.

They take part in a second-round hunt for plastic eggs, filled with jelly beans.  The girls manage to find all remaining eggs, within two minutes of search.  Shante gets his share of the take- four plastic, jelly-bean filled delights.  He eats one jelly bean, and that’s enough.  For a child who has seen, and tasted, little of sweetness, a little bit goes forever.

Shante has his dream- as yet locked behind the door of linguistic disparity, and development.  A three-year-old’s Swahili is, after all, no more proficient than would be his contemporaries’ Norwegian, Spanish, or Kwa Zulu, in other parts of this hard, but exquisite home of ours.  His eyes, though, are scintillating.  This boy is sharp, and will make his way in the world, regardless of circumstances.  He shows interest in the music, whether African, Caribbean or Bluegrass, and dances to whatever tune is being offered.  He examines a blind man’s Australian bush hat, carefully fingering its strap and felt covering, as the patient man abides the probing. He works the crowd, and sizes each of us up, by looking us in the eye, for a minute or two, before moving on to the next person of interest.  He offers a brief opinion of what he has seen and heard, to his oldest brother, who nods in assent and holds Shante close, for a few minutes.

I keep saying this:  We, the elders, are in good hands with the generations that are rising.

Bruxelles, Mon Amour

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Posted by on in Community, Personal Values, Poetry

March 22, 2016, Prescott-

Bruxelles, mon amour,

I hear your screams

As the hosts of tyranny

Hose your streets with blood.

You welcomed me warmly,

Giving a festival of peace,

French, Flemish, Algerian,

Standing side by side,

As the games of comradeship and hope,

Played out, in front of my eyes.

Paris, mon amour,

I recall your sons and daughters,

Taking time out of their frenetic days,

To help an oft bewildered Americain

Find my way across your arrondissements,

With nary a hint of hauteur, in their demeanours.

Rouen, ma cherie,

I think of all you endured,

As the scene of travesty,

When the Light of All France

Was immolated,

Just a stone’s throw from where

My paternal ancestors were first blessed.

Damascus, my friend,

I have not had the honour of your presence.

Yet, I hear and feel your anguish,

And, yes, I know these horrors are

Not what you wish,

For yourself, nor for the cities

Which weep alongside you.

All my friends and beloved ones,

Know the horrors and cruelty,

Will pass, must pass.

Soon comes the day,

Which will not be followed

By night.

This Singing House

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Posted by on in Community, Hiking and Nature, Personal Values, Spiritual

March 20, 2016, Prescott- I had the good fortune, this weekend, of being in two amazing places, locally.  The first was Chapel Rock Conference Center, of which more in a coming post.

Today being Naw-Ruz, the first day of the Baha’i  calendar, as well as an ancient Persian cultural festival (which used to last twelve days, I’m told, in the time of Zoroastrianism), I focus now on our community’s local celebration.

It was held, on this glorious afternoon, at the self-built home of two amazingly inventive and eclectic people, who I have been honoured to call friends, for over twenty years.  Each time I visit here, there are new items either added to the house, inside or out, or in the works, in one studio or another.

When we sat for the devotional part of our celebration, the hostess was asked whether recorded music would be part of the program.  She said “No”, and at that moment, the house itself began its music- in the form of three sets of wind chimes taking turns.

The chimes were not overly clangy, which would have not set a good mood, but gently interspersed our readings.  Afterwards, we had a light meal, which sufficed this one’s appetite for the rest of the day.  Some days are just meant for one meal, supported by snacks.

Here are some scenes of this lovely home, atop a bucolic hill.

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Yard art, Prescott

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The Seven “S’es” of Naw-Ruz

(See my next post, for a detailed description of this elegant holiday arrangement.)

The Iron Ring of Frontier Crag
Frontier Crag

Here are a couple of the reasons my friends were drawn here, in the first place.  Note the embedded iron ring, atop the crag.

So, another fine year has begun  for us Baha’is.  I wish all my friends north of the Equator a lovely Spring, and all to the south, a bountiful Fall.

The Collision of Two Fears

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Posted by on in Community, Personal Values

March 19, 2016, Prescott-  I see  on the news that a large crowd amassed, in front of a Trump rally, in an attempt to make the would-be participants turn back.  This was a bit like asking  a leopard to shed his spots, rather than merely change them.

The whole incident shows what happens when one group of like-minded people become so fearful- of another fearful group- that all reason goes by the boards.  Isn’t this how wars get going, full-on?  The fact is, as I mentioned on a conservative friend’s page, elsewhere:  There is a First Amendment, that allows people to gather, and give voice to their opinions, no matter how odious those might seem to others.

The key is to let them rant, while holding one and all to a civil code that draws the line at violence.  Not letting people speak, because one is afraid of what they might say, is pretty much a guarantee that they will say it more often, and louder.  I think the man who slugged another man, at a rally in N.C., was crossing the line.  Yet, so too, was the mob that blocked traffic in a town west of Phoenix, this afternoon.

I have friends who support a variety of candidates for President.  Each has the right to their opinion, and I, to mine, which I am keeping to myself.  I would not deign to presume that a given person should vote differently than the way they feel.  All I know is, giving in to one’s darkest fears is no way to solve a problem-ever.

Intercalary

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Posted by on in Community, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Spiritual

February 26, 2016, Prescott- Today is the first of four Intercalary Days, celebrated by members of the Baha’i Faith, as days of charity, gift-giving and fellowship. The proper name for this short period is Ayyam-i-Ha, or “Days of Giving”.  It is followed by a Fast, of nineteen days, on which I’ve written before, and will again.  Our Fast has some similarities to Lent, Ramadan and the Jewish High Holy Days, as well as its own unique character.

Intercalary means “in-between calendar months”.  Our Baha’i calendar, properly called the Badi Calendar, has nineteen months of nineteen days each.  In the past, we would have four days of intercalary in 365- day years  and five days,  in a Leap Year. The calendar has now been synchronized, world-wide, so that our Holy Days will be based on the occurrence of the new moon, and thus will fall on different dates each year.  The Intercalary Period, therefore, will be four days a year, regardless of a year’s actual length.

Personally, this month and next, are rather lean, so my charity and gift-giving come more in the form of time and energy, this year. I’d rather have it that way, actually, as we humans sometimes value each other more on what things people bring and how much money they give.  I’ve lost a few friends, over the years, because I didn’t contribute, financially, to their efforts or causes.  Then again, were they really friends, in the first place?

 

Today, I will shortly set out and see what is happening downtown, and visit one of my favourite journaling haunts- either the Courthouse lawn, or one of the coffee houses that so wonderfully grace our central area.  This evening features two gatherings, and tomorrow- three.  I have, on such occasions, developed the art of selective grazing- each of these affairs is centered around food- and refined my conversational skills, which, for much of my life, have been halting, at best.

It’ll be a fine weekend, at any rate, and will have its share of acts of service.

Fear Factors

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Posted by on in Community, Personal Values, Spiritual

February 19, 2016, Prescott- This week has been a bit rough, although work resumed for two days and I did have a nice dinner with friends, last night.  The difficult part has come from the number of attacks, two of them pointedly personal, that have come my way this week.  Last night, I received a written death threat, which I take only mildly seriously.  The person in question has neither the physical or financial wherewithal to put an end to my life.  Today, someone on another medium said that, unless I supported building a wall on the Mexican border, I was not entitled to claim citizenship.

We have devolved into a “my way or no way” mentality.  It’s not just in the United States, that this is happening.  Europe is finding itself overwhelmed.  India and Indonesia are experiencing the resurgence of religious fundamentalism, to say nothing of what is going on in Africa and western Asia.  Mexico has been rigid, in not letting migrants come in from Central America, or from Cuba, for that matter.  Even a small nation like Nicaragua puts those seeking a better life, in detention camps.

Otherwise good people are turning on others, mostly out of fear- that their livelihoods will be lost, that their families’ safety will be at risk and, more existentially, that all they cherish and believe will be upended.

I have three thoughts on this whole phenomenon.

1.  Remember the French Revolution.  In a nutshell (no pun intended), the common people rid themselves of leaders who looked upon them as less than human.  After that, there was no game plan, except to continue the carnage, until the Revolutionaries had decimated their own ranks- and Napoleon stepped in, restored a monarchy and only slight improvements had been made in the public weal.

2.  “The Earth is but one country, and Mankind its citizens”- Baha’u’llah

We do best to see all other people and nations as our relatives, by extension.  There need to be rules, sane and intelligent boundaries, and no one should enter another’s home, without leave of the owner.  Each family, city or town, county, state/province, and nation is entitled to having its boundaries, and its laws, respected.  Nonetheless, there cannot be the sort of racism or ethnocentrism that only perpetuates misery.  There also cannot be the economic colonialism that demands people in one country suffer, so that people in other countries can indulge themselves with habit-forming drugs that foment death and destruction, both for the people around the producers and for the consumers.

3.  Everyone is entitled to seek the truth of spiritual, intellectual and metaphysical matters for themselves.

Groups have arisen, from ISIS to the American Tea Party, that rely on fear and loathing to keep their agendas moving forward.  Again, I refer you to the late, unlamented Jacobins.  The Ku Klux Klan, Khmer Rouge, National Socialists, the “Know Nothings”, and various tribal armies-of-slaughter, throughout history, have followed the same path- sometimes with deadly violence, other times with the violence of the mind.  In both cases that I mentioned at the beginning of this post, my response was immediate- I will think, and speak, for myself.  I have served the United States of America, and will not give up my citizenship; nor will I ask that of my critic, who was born here, also.  I will follow my own schedule, protocol and regimen, with regard to my daily life, and not give in to threats, of any kind.

The challenge, before us all, is to put fear in its place.

My Life Thus Far: The Fifties

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Posted by on in Community, Family, Striving

January 26, 2016, Prescott-

I have decided to look at my 6 1/2 decades, in terms of each year’s high point, low point,places and people in the heart, and amazing things. Where there are no listed “People in the heart”, Mom and Dad were a given. Obviously, this has meant some very deep psychic chrononautics, memories and reflections, with regard to my first decade, the 1950’s; so, here goes.

1950- High Point:  I bounced out, towards the end of the year, albeit almost feet first.

           Low Point:  Almost coming out feet first.

          People in the heart-Mom and Dad,  my three living grandparents.

1951- High Point:   Being the center of attention.

           Low Point:  Uncle Jim went to war.

           Places in the heart:  Gooch Street, Melrose (our first home) and the duplex on                      Central Street, Saugus (our second home).

1952- High Point: My sister, Cheryl, was born.

            Low Point:  Dad worked nights.

            People in the heart:  Cheryl, Cousin Dale, Grandma.

1953- High Point: Playing with Pal, the collie mix.

            Low Point:  Grampy died.                                                                                                                    

            Places in the heart: Grandma’s house, Aunt Hazel’s and Uncle Ellie’s house.

1954- High Point:  Walking up to Grandma’s by myself.

            Low Point:  Getting spanked for it.

           People in the heart:  My paternal aunts, Carol and Margie, who were my first teen              babysitters; two little girls who were my friends, but whose names I forget, and                  Russ, the first boy to be my friend.

1955-High Point: David was born.

            Low Point:  Moving to Adams Avenue, to what at first struck me as a shack. (Dad                 and Mom made it into a real home, though).

             People in the heart:  My first peer friends- Eddie, Allan, Mario and Tommy.

             Place in the heart:  Conrad’s Farm (They had horses!)

1956- High Point: Learning to read.

              Low Point:  Realizing I was different from the other First graders.

              People in the heart:  Miss Lavin (my First Grade teacher); Father Lawrence                          McGrath (who gave me First Communion); Donna, Ellen and Nancy W., my girl                  classmates.

1957- High Point: Getting to go up Blueberry Hill by myself.

            Low Point:  Getting bullied in the neighbourhood.

            People in the heart: Bobby Matthews, who stood up for me; Jimmy and Jack, my                  friends down the street.

            Places in the heart:  Blueberry Hill, where I hiked and sledded; Pleasant Creek,                    where I went to meditate.

1958- High Points:  Learning my multiplication facts; family visit to Cape Cod.

            Low Point:  Getting pelted in the head with acorns.

            People in the heart:  New friends Charlie and Clyde; Miss Nugent (my Third Grade              teacher.

            Places in the heart:  Johns Pond, Cape Cod;  The Field, and Nannygoat Hill, Saugus.

1959-High Points:  Visiting family in Stamford, CT; vacation in the White Mountains of               New Hampshire.

          Low Point:  My friend and classmate, Donna,moved.

          People in the heart:  Cousins Danny, Kathy and John.

          Places in the heart :   High Street, after dinner during Daylight Savings Time;                     Franconia Notch and North Conway, NH.

Amazing things in my 1950’s- The transformation of 48 Adams Avenue into a nice family home. All the times I walked into neighbours’ unlocked houses, when I was 5 &6, until Father McGrath mentioned, at Sunday School, that it was wrong.  A teen party upon which I happened, at age 8. (They let me stay a while, long enough to realize just how beautiful girls are).   Learning the joys of walking, which took me everywhere in Saugus.

This was the time of American Bandstand, Mighty Mouse, Tom and Jerry, and my first forays into nerdiness:  Perry Mason,  Feep’s Fantasmic Features and Hawaiian Eye.  It was when I learned that not all grown-ups liked kids, even when they worked with us.  There were those, like my First and Third Grade teachers, who did love us.  They are the ones I remember most clearly.

As the Fifties closed, I was slowly branching out as a person.

 

 

 

 

Highway 16

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Posted by on in Community, Family, Hiking and Nature, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Striving, Travel

January 1, 2016, Prescott-  Yes, I know it’s still 2015, here in the American West.  It’s New Year’s Day in Rouen, France, one of my ancestral homes.  It’s also 2016 in: Silesia, Poland; Bremen, Germany; and Tours, France- three of my other ancestral homes.  In 5 1/2 hours, the New Year will come to Old Town, Maine, where my Native American relatives still live.  I am starting to beat a dead horse.

I will use the road motif for this year’s posts, much as the Road took me to age 65.  Highways indicate assertiveness, clear vision and moving out with a purpose.  So I intend 2016 to be.

I came back to Home Base, yesterday, to find I have a financial issue to settle, and will tend to it next week.  In the meantime, bills and rent will get paid and I was, thankfully, able to fulfill a promise I made, last week, to help a sick friend.  My nest egg isn’t growing right now, but neither is anyone else’s, in Wall Street’s mad rush to sell anything that’s not nailed down.  My nest egg IS nailed , though, so the bears can just go back into hibernation.

Meanwhile, I am not hibernating.  The next three days will see me on one trail or another, as we enjoy crisp, clear weather.  The schools will be back in session next week, and I will be ready for whoever needs my services.  The certification process will take a bit longer- ADE doesn’t save transcripts, so those need to be re-sent, and my long-ago teaching internship host will need to verify that I did complete “practice teaching”- in Fall, 1975.  So, I see that process being successfully completed by the end of January.

My essential oils have benefited me, health-wise, and I will be at three conferences, this year, that focus on their promulgation.  This month, and June will find me in Boulder and September features an International Convention in Salt Lake City.

Travel in the summer will depend on how well I do, work-wise, this winter and spring.  A week or so in Reno/Tahoe, at the end of May, is a given.  Anything beyond that, though, remains to be seen.  In any case, the focus will be on time with friends, not on “Here’s Gary at yet another fabulous site!”  I never want the latter to be how all this is viewed.

Reading is still huge for me, and with the Kindle, an excellent library system and three nearby book shops, I will never run short of material. I am currently engrossed in “The Witches:  Salem, 1692”, Dick Van Dyke’s “Keep Moving”, “Terra in Cognita”, by a fellow Baha’i:  William Barnes, “Extreme Ownership”, and “The Dinosaur Heresies”.  My tack is to read at least ten pages of a book, then go to one of the others, and so on.

This year marks the Centenary of ‘Abdu’l-Baha’s initial offerings of “Tablets of the Divine Plan”.  I will have much more to say about this remarkable set of documents, during the course of the year.  Suffice it so say that, without the guidance I have received as a Baha’i, the person some in my family remember from long ago, and still think they see, would still be stumbling around- and I would not be blogging, to say the least.

This year also marks the Centenary of the National Park Service.  I will visit several National Park holdings in Arizona, and around the Southwest, in the course of this year.  Most certainly, my boots will meet some trails of the Grand Canyon, and Canyon de Chelly, for the first time in 18 years.

Most importantly, though, is WHO I am going to be in these next twelve months.  That will never be defined by anyone but yours truly.  To say otherwise would be to invite chaos.  Some, not far from here, want me to move nearer to them.  That is not happening.  Others would rather I stay as far away from them as possible.  So be it.  Any given decision could be resolved in at least seventy different ways.  The factors, for me, are these:  Service to those in need, especially children and youth; my own family’s well-being; my ability to fend for myself (I am not presently, nor will I be, a burden on anyone else); and, lastly, the overall circumstances of the world-at-large.

Happy 2016, one and all!