Quiet Streets and Sweeping Vistas

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May 8, 2023- We stood atop Airport Mesa, one of Sedona’s premier places to get a quick look at several landmarks, in one fell swoop. My daughter-in-law, Yunhee, and her mother, Mrs. Park, were my visitors for a day. It was Mrs. Park’s first trip out of Asia, and only her second out of Korea- with Vietnam being the only other foreign destination. She is mesmerized by the differences in this western half of the United States-the prairies of Texas, desert around Phoenix and the three microclimates of northern Arizona.

Her questions, as to where are the pine trees and mountains of Prescott were answered, as soon as we turned a corner and saw Douglas firs and Alligator Junipers, then drove down a street and had full view of the Bradshaw Range. All this was within Prescott’s city limits, of course. What surprised her the most, though, was the fact that our city is walkable- unlike the areas in Metro Dallas that she has seen thus far. I hope she gets to walk along Mill Creek, in Grapevine, when they go back, at the end of this week. She will see a mix of walkable and not, when they visit Las Vegas, in a day or so. The ultimate walkable area, the South Rim of Grand Canyon, will cement her image of North America’s vastness.

Airport Mesa was the last of the spots I chose for the itinerary. Lunch was at Raven Cafe, photo stops included the summit of Mingus Mountain, a ravine just west of Jerome and, of course, Airport Mesa. Coffee, from Mesa Grille, was enjoyed whilst watching the small planes take off and land at Sedona Airport. It was a bustling day, more from their perspective than mine-as it had begun with rising very, very early, catching an early flight from DFW and driving from Phoenix to Prescott, then following me over Mingus Mountain to Jerome, Clarkdale, Cottonwood and Sedona. As we proceeded through the Red Rock city, to our point of adieu, we were each in a queue that was dealing with the aftermath of a serious traffic accident. I took Rte. 179, towards Oak Creek Village and the Interstate highway. The ladies were not so lucky, and inched their way up through Oak Creek Canyon, by choice, and found the backlog was inching along with them.

We all made it to our respective destinations, and tomorrow, while I am in my last day at work for the school year, Yunhee will show her mother what I first showed her of the South Rim. It was a splendid first day for this perky, spirited extended family member to really see what makes our continent such a marvel. In a few days, my own latest journey, by train, will get started. I may even opt for a roomette.

Their Melodious Voices

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April 29, 2023- The five visitors from Tucson elevated our already high-level celebration of the Ninth Day of the Ridvan Festival, commemorating the day when Baha’u’llah proclaimed His Mission to His family and closest followers, whilst in the Ridvan Garden just north of Baghdad. This was on April 29, 1863. The family led us in two spiritual rounds, then were among the first to offer assistance, when a community member sent a texted appeal after her child was injured in an accident. Their presence alone was a confirmation of the Divine.

This was the first of two amazing musical events, the second being two hours and forty minutes of celestial bliss, courtesy of The Barn Swallows Band (so called, as to distinguish this ensemble of three woman and a man from the all-male group, The Barn Swallows.) The three-part harmony of the women, backed by their male bassist, has not failed to keep me, and their other two dozen or so followers, enthralled, in three appearances at Raven Cafe. They work as hard as I’ve seen any musicians work-taking turns in the lead, with their bandmates joining in vocally or instrumentally, in each and every song. Here, Aurelia sings lead, with Jessica backing vocally and May on banjo. Still have not caught the name of their silent bass player, whose melodies are nonetheless central to the effect of their harmonious vocals and instrumentation.

These ladies are among a multitude of young women who I would gladly claim as daughters, or nieces. (It seems, as the years go by, that Aram, Yunhee and my nieces and nephews are gaining more siblings by the minute-and that is just how my heart functions.) Their work ethic and compassion for others are what draw us in.

A local musician, Jonathan Best, aka Angiolus, led some intrepid dancers to the makeshift floor, after a brief negotiation with Raven’s management. It worked well. I was not, for once, among the dancers-these were ballroom quality steppers. It was from a cozy spot, just in front of the dance floor and stage, that three hours of reverie ensued. I could listen to these folks for more hours on end. They will be on a national tour, after the launch of their first album, on May 13. The schedule is posted on The Barn Swallows Band Facebook page. If they are in your area, I highly recommend a listen.

This special day has always produced something of great value.

The Bandage

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April 26, 2023- The dermatologist and his plastic surgeon partner pronounced the basal cell “tiny”, and took a short few minutes, for each of their actions in removing it and sewing the suture. The PA who bandaged the site was far more ostentatious, applying a long dressing, almost like the person who builds a wheelchair ramp at the entrance to a building. The bandage has to keep an area well to the sides of the wound free from dirt, and I am to keep it free from water, for about 48 hours.

These sorts of events are not as common in my life as they might have been, ten years ago. With three brands of sunscreen, each free of harmful chemicals, it is de rigueur to shelter the face, neck, ears and hands-and with the coming season of wearing shorts, the legs, before going out. I will once again purchase a full bush hat tomorrow-and this time be more careful not to leave it behind, in a room, the train or rental car.

Summer will introduce itself to us here, on Sunday, with 85 F the predicted high in Prescott, and Phoenix likely to see its first 100 F day of the year. I’ll not be shy about being outside, within the bounds of prudence, the rest of this year. May, alone, will find this one in Los Angeles, Sacramento, Reno, Carson City, and points north, at least as far as Vancouver Island. There are a lot of places closer to Home Base as well-with Yunhee and her mother stopping by for a visit, in the second week of next month, some Red Cross shelter inspections coming up next week and visits to the South Rim of Grand Canyon and Mt. Humphreys towards the end of the month, unless Disaster Responses intervene.

So, the bandage is doing its preparatory work, and will generate whatever comments it does, between now and tomorrow morning. I am greatly relieved to have such a team looking out for me.

Pushing Back On The Mud, Day Five

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April 7, 2023, Aptos, CA– It was, to many people, a day suitable to their mood-rainy and a bit cool, reflecting the feelings of many people about the Crucifixion of Christ. Yet, throughout the day, the sun shone through the clouds, periodically. There is, in fact, progress being made on the determination of water potability, which is one of the factors that will affect the return of people to their homes. The bigger issue, of course, is the presence of mud in and around those homes. Finally, there is the issue of accessibility to the houses.

To many people, the ordeal feels like a crucifixion, of sorts. Most will recover, to a greater or lesser extent. The lessons learned from this inundation may not be immediately clear to the victims, yet there seems to be a very strong sense of “We will go on and show our children that these kinds of events are not the end of life.” This is much in the spirit of what Christ was telling humanity, by submitting to the ignominy of the Cross.

The best of parents deliver this message to their children, both verbally and by example, on a daily basis. The ethic of picking oneself up and going forward is also what will carry human civilization and sense of community.

“And still we rise”.

The Fallacy of Coercion

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March 25, 2023- Once, after Penny’s funeral, when I found a modest, but pliable, insurance deposit in my checking account, I got a call from someone who used the fact, that I had only myself to support, as a springboard to ask that I help fund a surgery that was needed. In those days of some confusion and recovery that accompanied the grieving process, I did not project ahead to the expenses of the ensuing four months before the final life insurance settlement would find its way to me. It felt like it was my bounden duty to help this individual, who had little. The choice was made to proffer a substantial amount in that direction. Fast forward three months, and I received a proposal from my handyman to renovate the house. Without giving it the proper amount of thought, I initially agreed to his offer, only to do the math afterward-and to end up cancelling the project, thus burdening him with returning the materials-and burdening myself with the loss of a friend.

I have come to the realization, these many years later, that there really was no coercion from anyone. I made both decisions, conflicting as they were, out of a desire to make someone else happy. To what extent the first person achieved happiness is a matter of opinion. I have not been willing or able to continue to dole out money in that direction. It goes without saying, that the second person is just as glad if he never sees me again.

In life, there are relatively few matters that are imperative. A parent must do the best to raise any child, who is birthed or adopted, to adulthood. A pet owner must see to the animal’s well-being. A citizen must contribute to the support of community, state and nation-both financially and civically. A worker must do the best to fulfill the basic requirements of a job. Communities must provide for the education of their young and for the basic care of disabled and elderly residents.

All else, however, is a matter of choice. In the 1970s, the comedian Flip Wilson had a routine, on his television program, in which he played a character whose retort to being chastised was “The devil made me do it.” We Baha’is know the “devil” to be the ego of a person, when it entices one to overindulge base instincts or desires, acting against the better nature. It was anthropomorphized long ago, in the days of Babylon-and has had a physical image ever since. This has the effect of allowing a person to deflect any blame for actions-which was exactly Wilson’s point. That such self-indulgence can generate negative energy, which can and does harm self and others, does not change the essence of its nature.

There is much that I take on, both paid and volunteer work. In each case, I have come to the understanding with myself that my choices are made strictly in consulting with my conscience, and not because of any pressure from outside. Guilting, whining or yelling and screaming have only made me turn away from the supplicant. There is no such real thing as coercion, when you give the matter some thought.

The Atmosphere Delivers

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March 22, 2023- Dad would have been 96 today. He grew up with a love of flowing water, especially salt water, which soothed his psoriasis somewhat. We inherited that love, though something in my physical make-up has hampered my swimming skills. Nevertheless, being around water is soothing. Aram picked up that love of water and is a top notch swimmer and diver. He has translated that into success so far in the U.S. Navy-nowadays in the Naval Reserves.

I thought, when moving to Arizona, from Maine, in 1978, that I might miss the ocean. California, as it happens, is not far away-and on occasion, I have visited seaside resorts in Mexico’s northwest corner. The desert, however, is an ocean in itself-just storing its water safely, in pockets-oases, tanks and the storage components of trees, cacti and succulents. There are also plenty of mountains, which in northern Arizona are quite similar in vegetation to the mountains of New England, albeit with cacti thrown in for good measure.

The atmosphere has delivered copious amounts of precipitation this Winter-and into the first days of Spring. Most people are aware of the mixed blessings this has brought to California and Nevada. Arizona has had the same experience as its western neighbours. So, as mentioned in the earlier post, the rivers and creeks of our area, as well as near Flagstaff and parts of the Navajo and Hopi Nations , have assumed monsoon-level flows. This has opened shelters, as those living near the overflowing banks have had to be evacuated. Some have headed down to the Phoenix area or further afield. A few have stayed with us, in the Red Cross facilities.

Thus, my tentative schedule has set me to working nights, possibly through Friday, and doing minimal activities during the daylight hours, the rest of this week. I have, however, kept my basic exercise routine-and in the event of an empty, “stand-by” shelter, I can walk many laps around the gym, without bothering anyone. Life goes on nicely.

Walking Our Own Paths

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March 18, 2023, Scottsdale- I almost didn’t recognize a young friend, with her hair pulled up and wearing glasses. Once that was corrected, I asked about her immediate plans and learned she was taking on a challenging course of study in the Public Health area. I mentioned another friend who had completed a similar course of study, and had also recently married. She noted that her life had proceeded in the opposite order of the other lady. As I see it, both women are doing great things for the human race and for our planet.

Each of us does what we need to do, according to our particular life plan. Some complete their education first, then find a life partner and have children. Others marry first, get their schooling and either start a family or live as a couple without children. Some do only one of the above. Others do none of it. Penny and I took the first course of action. Plenty of my friends and family have pursued a different course.

Regardless, we all have a role to play in the scheme of things, and surely, if we didn’t each pursue our own wondrous course, what a sad world we’d have. I consider myself greatly enriched by each of the diverse members of this large and beautiful family circle both biological and collegial, that surrounds me. I am proud of all of them.

There are those who wish I had taken a different path, in the years since Penny left this Earth. All I know is that I essentially have no regrets, as to the path I’ve followed and few regrets as to specific things I’ve done, these past twelve years. I hold that others are due the same consideration.

The House By Black Mesa

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March 14, 2023, Farmington, NM- Back in the 1980s and ’90s, an earnest young family of four lived in a compound, at the foot of a mesa we knew as Dinnebito (People’s Water). Some called it Mosquito Springs, but that was nothing extraordinary, either. There are people, and mosquitoes, around most potable water-and the latter are even less discriminating than the former, so they hang around the nasty stuff also.e

Many of the people who left Dinnebito did so because of the freeze on construction and home improvements established by Congress, due to the dispute over land, between Dineh and Hopi. By the time that was resolved, and the freeze lifted, around 2010, most people had already left, or passed on, as did the former Chairman and first President of the Navajo Nation, Dr. Peterson Zah, who was from nearby Low Mountain, where he was recently laid to rest, after a stellar life of service to the Nation and to the field of higher education.

The young family grew to five members, then was at four, when they moved to the house by Black Mesa, in the early 2000s. I had not seen them for nearly thirty years, so it was high time. First came a call on the mother, at her workplace, then an hour or so was spent visiting the father and, fleetingly, one of the daughters (who I remember as an 8-year-old) and her two children. The kids keep Grandpa busy in retirement and his overall demeanour is one of a man in full.

He made a quiet request to be a part of the next visit I make to the Baha’is in Utah, an easy enough request to fill, as Tonalea is on the way. Suitable advance plans would have to be made, so next time, I will head up there. This journey, I decided to give the southern end of Four Corners some love, so I am here in Farmington for the night, and will head over to Aztec Ruins tomorrow.

Grandpa (Chee) Chester and his current project.

A Dozen Years

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March 5, 2023- Last night, an extended family member took her last breath and left behind many years of suffering. Hers was a voice of truth, at times hard to hear-but a voice that needed to be heard, nonetheless. Her passing was a bookend to Penny’s transition, twelve years ago today.

I’ve taken stock, a fair number of times since, of my “solo” journey-that hasn’t actually been taken alone. It’s worth looking back, though, every so often. Since bidding her adieu, I have sold a house, on my in-law’s behalf, settled into a solid one-bedroom apartment, gone through five cars, seen the marriage of our son to a strong, confident and beautiful woman, visited forty-eight states (only Montana and North Dakota remain unvisited) and six countries, completed two long local hiking trails (albeit in sections) and volunteered with five organizations, besides my Faith Community.

Most important, though, are the friendships made-both long-lasting and fleeting. Some have also gone on to the next level of existence. A couple have been lost, through miscommunication and the interference of those who saw me as some sort of threat. A few others have turned out to be nefarious, and had to be cast aside. Most, though, will be in my circle until death separates us, albeit temporarily. They will always be in my heart.

There is no real Master Plan to any of this-three of the cars were wrecked by the actions of other people and one just wore out; the house was sold because of a double-taxation scheme, in another state; the travel is a combination of who I am as a person and urges to see people who live far from here. The hikes are also a reflection of who I am, besides being a good way to help with one of my current focuses-weight reduction.

Yet, in another sense, I do follow a Master Plan-one which all of us follow, either wittingly or unwittingly: The Major Plan of the Creator. I am in awe of all that has happened in my life, particularly over the past forty years, and especially over the past twelve. Much, I know, remains to be rolled out, and I look forward to it all, the easy and the hard alike.

Truncated

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February 16, 2023- Two boys took up my attention, for much of the day-one in the morning and one in the afternoon. Both did their best to dodge work, but I have crafted my own style of dodging, over the years. Each young man was eased into completing at least two hours of work-at his own level and pace, but it was done willingly. I have heard that little good is ever achieved through the use of force-and I am seeing that it is true.

Today was the last day of four weeks worth of substitute teaching assignments. The work ended up being truncated, with snow and ice getting in the way of schooling- three weeks ago and again, yesterday. My first thoughts, on both occasions, were for the safety and well-being of all the affected children. It happened, on the first canceled day, that someone dropped the ball, just a tad, and a busload of students sat for an hour, then gave up and went home. The driver, for his part, kept them all safe and warm for that hour. The issue was communication, back and forth, at higher levels-probably including a call or two to state education officials. There is no truncating the safety of people, especially of children, and it is my understanding that lessons were learned by people long out of school.

My journey to southern Arizona is also truncated-and will be from noon on Monday to late Thursday afternoon or evening. The route will be circular and clockwise-to Superior, Biosphere II, Bisbee and Coronado National Monument, that I may finish a hike to the border, and head back up, through Sonoita, Patagonia and Tucson-making a call on an old friend, before getting back in time for activities on Friday morning-at the very least. Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument and Kitt Peak will happen, later this Spring, as a separate journey.

Some things will never be truncated: My loyalty to, and love for, family and friends-even though I may not see or speak with them much. We will each meet again when it matters most. Just know you are never out of my consciousness.