September 21, 2025, Nynashamn- It was quite windy atop the water tower that served this small city on its own, for several decades-until a larger one was built across town. The tower on which my friend, Mattias, and I stood was had burned down in 2018 and was rebuilt as an observation point, a year later. The taller and larger tower that replaced it may be seen from the top, as may a large area of the southern Stockholm Archipelago, of which Nynashamn (NEE-nahs-hahmn) is an anchor.
Here are some scenes from that vantage point.
View of Stockholm Archipelago, and south side of NynanshamnView of Grondalsviken, to the southwest of Nynashamn. View of Nynashamn Centrum (downtown)On top of Trehorningen Water Tower
Afterward, we went back to find the rest of the crew, Sarah and the kids, at Nynashamn Harbour. We had begun the day with a satisfying breakfast and had gone over to Choklad Huset (Chocolate House), which serves up the finest of hot chocolate and a full variety of solid treats. This establishment provides dessert items for the Nobel Prize Dinner, among other accomplishments. We enjoyed our delights at a playground near the harbour (The “ship playground”, say the kids.
Choklad Huset
It was soon time to go back to the cozy apartment. I spent a blissful afternoon, just soaking in all that being with a little family entails. After a well-crafted dinner of “Fresh Rolls” (spring rolls, in clear rice wraps, with “Chinese Rice” (fried rice), I took in one more Nynashamn sunset.
Sunset from Grondalsviken
Tomorrow, I double back to Stockholm’s Central Station, and take the train southward to Helsingborg and over the water, to Helsingor-the site of Elsinore Castle. It has been a truly lovely visit with my Swedish family. Now, to make more friends, in Denmark.
September 3, 2025, Keams Canyon- The hill we used to climb,and lay on blankets under the stars, is still alluring. It seems diminished somehow, though, with the campground having been taken up for house lots and a fenced in playground . The park is a nice idea for the Keams community, though.
I could have bushwhacked a bit and gone up the hill, just to reminisce about those first fleeting days of our acquaintance, which became an enduring, if sometimes harrowing, love story. It wasn’t far from this spot that your trailer sat, and where I camped out in the snow, the first time I visited you. It was all to keep up a sense of propriety, for your Hopi and Mormon neighbours. It was worth the hassle, though, and I felt akin to the small Dineh children who were traditionally thrown out in the snow, to toughen them up.
Tonight, though, there is no snow or cold, just a light rain. I am not sleeping outside, but in the comfort of some new friends’ apartment. We had a lovely dinner of cod fillets, cauliflower over rice and steamed avocado/cucumber salad. I gave them a set of books about the Hopi and one about Dineh. They are resuming the work we did in the ’80s and ’90s, and will take it to the next level.
Hopi will always be special, even if my time here is fleeting, and only occasional. The people have shared their wisdom with the world, and deserve all our support and understanding. You knew that, back then, when you sought to calm my peripatetic self and got me to devote weekends to attending ceremonial dances, instead of going off into mountains and canyons.
That, ironically, is why I am here tonight, absorbing the gentle spiritual energy that lies within these mesa lands, just prior to my embarking on journeys of homage and transition. Soon, our first grandchild will be joining the world. I will not be surprised if she looks up and smiles at a space where no earthly being can be seen. I will know that she is looking at you.
September 2, 2025- Coming up to a ledge, on the trail between White Spar Mountain and Goldwater Lake, Hiking Buddy and I spotted nineteen American flags-the sign of a memorial to the 19 Wildland Firefighters, who died in 2013, at Yarnell Hill.
Other forms of death showed themselves nearby.
Beyond, though, are the many signs of life, for which these sacrifices have been made.
We made this short hike, as part of a run-up to my own seven-week absence from Home Base I, and from Arizona. I have had a good summer here, and now it is time to tie up loose ends. Connecting HB with an aficionado of her type of product was another result of today’s efforts. Finally getting through to a critic of local organic farming, earlier this morning, was another.
The rest of the week will see me on a worldwide prayer call, then up at Hopi for a brief visit with new arrivals in the Health Provider community and a Red Cross meeting here, on Thursday. Friday, I will continue my dry run of packing, as the weekend is full of special events, on which more, in a few days.
I have also carefully spoke my peace about other issues, and so far had little push back. Towards that end, I will not elaborate on my thoughts in this forum. We are all entitled to our own opinions, though not to our own facts.
No matter where I go, the sacrifices of those brave men commemorated above, and of others like them, will still figure large in my consciousness. They tied the loose strands of community, by giving their very lives.
August 19, 2025- There is no shortage of schools in Prescott that are in salubrious settings. One of these is Primavera School, located on the southwest side of town. It is, being in a forest community, geared towards a holistic education in an ecologically-oriented setting. The basics are well-taught, in small groups, and with room made for serendipitous moments. If a “book” lesson is underway, and one of the kindergartners, or third graders, happens to focus on a hummingbird feeding nearby, the class takes time to observe the animal and later discuss the scene-What was in the liquid that the hummingbird was drinking? Are there times of day that the birds prefer to feed? What other foods do hummingbirds take? There is realization that a book lesson is not sacrificed by a 30-minute observational activity.
“Primavera”, of course, is Spanish for “Spring”. Here were a group of us, at this school, in mid-Summer, helping to focus a new year for school gardens. The school’s name hints at an orientation towards every day being a new beginning, in some sense. With the daily awakening and enkindling of knowledge, children-any of us, actually- feel this new beginning. This afternoon, we did a poetic exercise, called “I Am From”, which looks at some of the many factors, past and present, which shape who each of us is. Like anyone else, I could fill in the blanks in a number of ways, and shared one set of answers in the session. I will share a similar, and equally genuine, rendition of this poem below:
I am from
I am from corn on the cob
From 6 a.m. and cool, crisp air
I am from the cabin, cozy, warm, sweet-scented
I am from oak and bear,
tall and stout, strong and gentle
I am from family reunions and walks in the woods
from the beach and caves
From Kauai and wind-swept, craggy coastal bluffs
I am from Granite Mountain and holding my grandchild
and from “The Earth is but one country, and mankind its citizens”.
June 21, 2025- The Howard brothers have come a long way in a year. Their quest to mix Bluegrass with jazz is an unusual path, and started off roughly. Tonight, though, as the first day of Prescott’s 44th Annual Bluegrass Festival entered its evening segment, Cross-Eyed Possum ruled the stage. Their performances did not sound like jazz invading the realm of Bluegrass, or Blues with Bluegrass undertones, but a perfect melding of genres. It would likely have been well-received in even the smallest Appalachian hollow or Piedmont barn dance.
I sat in on their outdoor set, this evening. It had been a full day-taking the preliminary steps to form a Red Cross team that would respond to a wildfire on the Navajo Nation, should it threaten residential areas; helping the Farmers Market crew to break down and put equipment away (as is usual on a Saturday afternoon in Prescott); attending an appreciation dinner for Farmers Market staff, Board Members, and volunteers. I have been a market site volunteer for seven years now, yet it was a revelation that there are 453 people who assist the Market, in various ways-from staffing the compost yard to filling or delivering food boxes to the less fortunate of western Yavapai County. There is so much that goes into any given relief effort.
As we adults enjoyed delicious shredded chicken or vegan tacos, three small boys reveled in the nearby Ponderosa forest, where they gathered fallen branches and twigs, fashioning a fort-bringing back memories of the tree fort that was built in my childhood neighbourhood. It was a great joy to see that children have not lost the thrill of building and discovery. Of course, their parents and grandparents could see them, the entire time they were in the woods. Basically, though, the boys were free to do what they wanted, in that small section of forest, in between nibbles of dinner.
It is always special to mingle with crew mates and get to know their spouses, parents and children. Some of the kids I have known since they were infants and toddlers. They are now in middle childhood, with all the bravado that comes with being 7, 8 and 9. Our intrepid generation was of course there in force. It seems Boomers just intend to make the best use of time- I am but one of thousands, nationwide, and our many hands make much lighter work.
The Howards sing alternately of country joy, favourite animals and heartache, all the stuff of just about any folk or heartland music-as well as of Blues. Here they are, with ” Whipping Post”.
June 17,2025- Hiking Buddy and I sought a small First Nations ruin, about halfway along a trail between White Spar Road and Copper Basin, on Prescott’s west side. We kept on the trail, until a service road appeared. I recalled reading that the road would pass by a spur trail to the ruins, so we walked a bit up the road. Feeling that we may have gone too far, and missed the spur, we turned back and were going to get back on the main trail. Funny thing, the trail markers, which were there ten minutes before, were now nowhere to be seen.
I had this happen to me once before, several years ago, on a trail near Tucson. As I was alone at that time, I took the time to carefully go back and forth, finding the trail had seemed to have moved a bit to the east, from where I had been walking it, a few minutes before. Today was a bit hotter and more humid, and I will not put another person at risk of heat-related illness, so we walked the service road back to the main road, and on to Sportage. The trails can, and do, seem to disappear-as “woo-woo” as that sounds.
I have had things disappear, only to resurface as long as a week later, and in a place where I had not been. I have had recent conversations with others who have mentioned the same turn of events. Maybe this is a feature of absent-mindedness on our part, or maybe there are forces that we don’t comprehend, putting us to the test-in terms of patience, awareness of surroundings or even essential faith. I’ve had beings appear out of nowhere, resembling humans or animals, fulfilling a purpose-either good or ill, then disappearing almost in front of my eyes.
There was a time, in the present iteration of Creation, when there was nothing tangible, when there were no visible entities. Energy can still manifest in unseen ways. Today may have been one of those manifestations.
May 18, 2025, Grapevine, TX- Being a sultry day here, our family hike around Coppell’s Wagon Wheel Park was fairly short, but gave a good look at the copses of trees and tall grass prairie that define north Texas. Like any other ecosystem, this has its place in the overall realm of nature. So, we walked along various trails for about an hour. At one point, there was a sketch showing the wingspans of various area birds. The longest was the span of a great blue heron-7 feet. We each stretched our arms out and found 6 feet (Aram and me) and 5 feet (Yunhee).
Aram and Yunhee under a forest canopy.
The names of the trails are certainly fetching, and family-friendly. The park is also close to Home Base II, so my future visits here will feature walks in Coppell Nature Center, lying within Wagon Wheel.
Of course, no visit here is complete without a full complement of Korean cuisine. So, Yunhee prefaced this hike with a delicious lunch of Mandu-gook (Dumpling soup). Last night, we went to a fine eatery called Ham Ji Bak, in nearby Carrollton. Here is the scene, just before we started “tucking in”.
Our dinner spread at Ham Ji Bak
This afternoon, we changed course and went to Old Town Lewisville, northeast of Grapevine, and enjoyed an hour or so at Perc Coffee House. It’s always good to get acquainted with spots that offer a relaxing vibe. Lewisville is a bit of a drive, but it’ll be worth further explorations. Besides coming from me, “a bit of a drive” must sound a bit hollow!
Tomorrow, I will head west again. Sportage is wanting another service, but I think she and I will make the rest of the way to Prescott and a Wednesday visit to the dealership will be soon enough. In any event, I will stick to main roads, the rest of the way. This has been another good visit.
May 10, 2025, Salem, NH- About a month ago, Hiking Buddy and I were talking about the petroglyphs of Williamson Valley. She mentioned about the existence of a site in southern New Hampshire where documented pre-Columbian standing stones, with some verified inscriptions of Celtic and possibly Phoenician origin had been found. I know there have been similar sites in Minnesota that have been investigated and debunked, but this one had more of a ring of truth to it. I made a promise to myself to check out the site that was once called Mystery Hill.
Today brought that chance, and after enjoying lunch with my sister and brother-in-law, I headed up I-495, to New England’s other Salem. The town was a staple of my childhood, with visits to my mother’s sister and her family, and an annual summer gathering at Canobie Lake Park. I stopped briefly at the north end of the lake, which is a water supply for the area. Fishing is plentiful, but as one might guess, swimming is not allowed. We mainly picnicked and enjoyed the small amusement park.
North side of reservoir, Canobie Lake, Salem, NH
America’s Stonehenge, as Mystery Hill is now called, was a gathering site for Pawtucket First Nations people, themselves a branch of the Penacook Confederacy, which held sway across a wide swath of New Hampshire, Vermont, northern Massachusetts and western Maine, for hundreds of years before European settlement. The Pawtuckets themselves lived in an area from what is now Fitchburg (north central Massachusetts) to Saugus and Lynn, on the Atlantic Coast. Their central community was at what is now Lowell.
Pawtucket First Nation history
The area itself was farmed by the Pattee family, from the late Eighteenth Century until around 1900. Seth Pattee attempted to turn the property into a quarry for building stone, around the time of the Civil War. His son ended that practice and worked to preserve the area, having gleaned its cultural and historical heritage. This preservation began in earnest, with the research of William Goodwin, in the 1930s. When Robert Stone took over the property in 1958, he and his son, Dennis, saw the value in enlisting public support. The Stone family has been working hard, since 1958, to increase public awareness of the connections between peoples on both sides of the Atlantic, and that these connections are likely much older than is customarily believed.
The site seems to have been used as a ceremonial area, for marking major yearly astronomical events, such as the Solstices and Equinoxes. These seem to have been marked in a manner more customary for the Celtic peoples of western Europe than for early First Nations peoples of the Americas, and their predecessors. This suggests that there was, at minimum, regular contact between people on both sides of the Atlantic, as far back as 4,000 years ago.
I took several video clips of the trail. Unfortunately, these are too large for the Word Press format, so here are some still photos that accompanied the videos.
East-West Chamber, also called Gallery Grave. This is similar to Celtic structures in Ireland and Brittany.Outdoor stone table, with a small chamber perhaps used as a storage area.This rock, with a faded “eye” , was intended most likely as a watch talisman.
I will continue to look into sharing the video clips via this blog site. In the meantime, here are some resources by which you may learn about this unique site, and its archeo-astronomical importance.
America’s Stonehenge: Souvenir Book Paperback – October 1, 2018
April 15, 2025- A strange dream, just before I woke this morning, presented me with an alternative version of my late twenties. I was tooling around a remote area of the Great Plains, and connected with a young lady, much more easily than I actually did, back then. When I awoke, it occurred to me that, while the dream was pleasant, I would not give up one minute of the life I actually ended up having, for even such a comforting revision. The idea of not having my Faith, Aram and my twenty-nine years with Penny is really beyond my comprehension.
This morning, I brought a friend to inquire about getting an appliance, at one of the area’s thrift stores. For one reason or another, though the appliances in question had arrived last Thursday, I was only able to help her today. All the appliances were sold. This, she quickly determined, was the result of inherent bad luck and the system being stacked against her. My take was, “first come, first served”, though I recognized how painful it must feel to her, to have drawn the short straw, again. We found ourselves hitting every red light, at the intersections going back to her house, another indication that there was a “conspiracy afoot”. Well, no-it is just a day when I paid the universe back for all the other days when I caught every green light, from here to Spring Valley.
I have seen self-loathing or a victim mentality draw the worst energy, from random mishaps to disease. The latter, of course, perpetuates the dark energy, to the point where the poor soul often ends up being socially isolated. Many of the emotionally down and out of my past have died prematurely. This is all the more reason why I have cast aside my own self-loathing, with a view towards living several more years, to the fullest, in good health and surrounded by family and friends.
So, after this morning’s errand of mercy, I joined Akuura on another exploration of the Williamson Valley trail system. This time, we found the previously elusive water tank, that is a landmark for the trail to petroglyphs that lie somewhere atop a hill. We will have to locate the ancient scripts on another adventure, but here are the things we did find this afternoon.
Akuura and a boulderRock MadonnaDino HeadBowling Ball, or dinosaur egg?The elusive water tank
The upshot of the hiking story, as regards biology, is that this hobby is one of the factors in my own relatively good outlook on life. Of course, good friends, a healthy diet and maintaining a realistic view of both good fortune and misfortune, have their places in the game plan of longevity.
April 11, 2025- Macy’s European Coffee Shop, a cornerstone of Flagstaff’s Near South Side, was quieter than usual, in late morning. I was pleased that the shop’s owner, Tim Macy, was present and able to meet Bobot and Thelma. They enjoyed-we enjoyed-a light breakfast and fine coffee. Under ‘Abdu’l-Baha’s watchful gaze, a spiritual bond between America and the Philippines extended to Flagstaff.
Bobot, Thelma and the MasterBobot and Thelma in front of Macy’s
The next stop was a persistent and generous pool: Montezuma Well remains the repository of a spring-fed stream, holding its own, despite an infusion of algae, along its rim. A limestone sinkhole that receives 1,500,000 gallons of water a day from the spring, it was a source of sustenance for the Southern Sinagua people, in the first millennium A.D./C.E., and is a source of inspiration for the people of the Upper Verde Valley today.
Rim of Montezuma’s Well
What was sweetest about this visit is that, for the second day in a row, Thelma overcame her acrophobia and approached the rim, then walked down a flight of stone steps to the closest approach still available to the source spring. The counselor in me still celebrates people overcoming their fears.
Thelma and Bobot near the source of Montezuma Well
Our small celebration of this step forward came at another of my favourite spots: Rafter Eleven. I have been going there, pretty much since Dawn Wasowicz opened the establishment. Dawn has developed the restaurant and tasting room, as a venue for local artists and a community gathering place, over the past eleven years. She was also pleased to meet my two friends and they found the ambiance-and their scones, quite pleasing as well.
A brief shopping trip (for Bobot) ended their last full day in northern Arizona. Tomorrow, we will stop at Farmers Market and Zeke’s, then head south, to Desert Rose Baha’i Institute, and back up to Phoenix, where I will bid my friends farewell, and they will enjoy some extended family time, before leaving for other parts of the U.S.
A Sagittarian Seeker 