The Past Prologue and The Fulfillment Ahead

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January 1, 2021

The year just passed has given us a few gifts, as well as having taken some treasures from us. Chief among the gifts is the ability to conduct mass meetings online. This will ease active participation in Baha’i activities, regardless of where I happen to be.

It is a poorly-kept secret that, if it be the will of God (and the creek stays within its banks), I will be back on the road, and in the air, for a fair portion of the next four years. Prescott will remain Home Base, at least for this year. There is much for me to do here, and in the Southwest at large, between now and the middle of May. The stage was set, as it were, by callings I received and followed in the 2010s.

So 2021, any larger issues notwithstanding, is looking like this:

January– The agenda set by response to the pandemic will probably find me continuing to help out in the schools on a fair number of days. Involvement with a regional sustainability group will also be a priority. Then, there is a little group that meets each Wednesday at 1 p.m. (MST), and which has my heart’s attention. I will be on the trail, looking at a couple of extensions of Black Canyon Trail, northward from the original trailhead, outside Mayer; finishing Limekiln Trail, with the Sedona segments; and spending time in Scottsdale’s McDowell Mountain Desert Preserve. There is also the homefront downsizing: Paper-shredding and discarding of unnecessary belongings will begin this month and extend into next.

February- It’s likely that COVID-19 will factor into this month as well, in terms of being asked to help out in the schools. I already have agreed to a four-day stint, in mid-month. Hiking will take me to the Hualapai Mountains, of northwest Arizona and to Picketpost Mountain, outside Superior. Ayyam-i-Ha, the Baha’i Intercalary Days, will find me preparing hand-made gifts, for the first time since I made a bird house in Grade 8. These won’t be that elaborate, but will be done carefully, and from the heart.

March- It will have been ten years, since Penny passed on, March 5. I will invite other friends to join me at graveside, on that day. This is also the month of the Baha’i Nineteen Day Fast, and although I am no longer required ot abstain from food and drink during daylight hours, having reached the age of 70, my thoughts and actions will be in support of those who are abstaining. I will also make a road trip to Texas, in the middle of the month. Hiking will include a first visit to Phoenix’s South Mountain Park.

April- The Festival of Ridvan marks the twelve days of Baha’u’llah’s preparation for His second exile-from Baghdad to Istanbul (then called Constantinople) and His Declaration of Mission, during that twelve-day period. It also ends a Five-Year Plan we have been following, and begins a twelve-month celebration of the life of ‘Abdu’l-Baha, as November will mark the Centenary of His Ascension. Much of my activity, this month, will revolve around these events. Hiking will take in the Hermit’s Rest area of the Grand Canyon’s South Rim and parts of Sycamore Canyon, which runs south of Flagstaff and east of Sedona.

May- Preparations for the summer and autumn will occupy much of this month. Hopefully, New Mexico will re-open itself to us Arizonans, and I will spend a few days at Chaco Culture Historical Park. If California is open, and safe, by then, a visit to the coast will be in order,

June- If Bellemont Baha’i School is open for in-person groups, I will devote this month to that endeavour. If not, then I will make an early drive northwest-to my soul families in Nevada and Oregon, as well as to Vancouver Island, Haida Gwai’i (The one place Penny wanted to visit together, that has not happened yet) and British Columbia’s Sunshine Coast-north of the City of Vancouver.

July- The Plan B for June will fall into this month, if Bellemont is open. Otherwise, I will head east through Canada, and visit as many family members and friends, en route to and around Boston, as have time.

August– Atlantic Canada will take up part of this month, then it’s back southward and westward, again visiting family and friends along the way.

September and October– Take care of some necessary business in Arizona, spend quality time with Texas family and then off to Europe, with Iceland a first stop. This journey will also be oriented towards the ancestral home of my mother’s family, in what is now western Poland, with other stops in Germany, Czech Republic, Croatia, Romania, northern Italy and France. A few stops in the British Isles are also possible.

November- This month will be devoted to specific community and regional celebrations, in Arizona, of Abdu’l-Baha’s life.

December- This will be whatever my family wants it to be.

These plans are what my meditations have told me, as of today. Recalling that last January, I was fully intending to do a cross-Canada journey in the summer, I will simply accomplish as much as reality on the ground allows.

May all have a Happier 2021!

The Love of God

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December 25, 2020-

A small group of us gathered this afternoon and evening, sharing a light repast made with love by one of my best friends. The conversation afterward devolved, for a time, to the affairs of State. Once that was out of everyone’s system, there was a focus on the news of the terrible and confusing attack on downtown Nashville. It was then that the discussion turned to God’s love for mankind.

To my mind, and that of my dear friend, there is no daylight between His love and the challenges that are sent us, which are largely consequential of our own actions. Most misfortunes that I have experienced in this life have stemmed from either a bad choice that I have made, or from a weak area in my character that I have refused to acknowledge. There are also those times when I have happened along at a time when another person is struggling, and lashing out at all those who happen to be around.

There is the notion that we are all in this together, and indeed we are. I cannot be ignorant of my friends’ or family members’ struggles, nor do I wish to be. I will need to check on another friend, who has been incommunicado with members of our wider circle, for a day or so, and will need to answer a query from a needy person in another country, making both to be urgent business tomorrow.

Simply put, God’s love is not something we can either ignore without consequence, or put on a shelf to be dealt with at our convenience. There is, in truth, not much I can accomplish, without accepting His love, either as a direct flow of Grace or in the form of assistance from my Spirit Guides, first and foremost being my Guardian Angel-who has had my back, continuously, for seventy years. The payback for this love comes in the form of service to humanity, to our planetary home and to all its creatures.

It has been a fine Christmas Day, from the morning conversation with my mother, through other communications with each of my siblings and to the lovely time spent with the little group, near the foot of Thumb Butte. Let us each approach the last week of this unusual and challenging year, with a mindset aimed towards growth and equanimity.

Double, but No Trouble

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December 12, 2020-

I am always interested in days which match the numerical position of the month in which they occur. 1/1 is universally understood to be special, as it marks the new Gregorian year. 2/2 has the folksy attachment of Groundhog Day, important to those who are sick of winter. 5/5 also has a folksy theme, commemorating the Mexican people’s revolt against a French invader. 6/6 is the day Penny and I were married, in 1982. 7/7 was the day Aram was born. 10/10 is the National Day of Taiwan. 11//11 is both Armistice Day, which ended World War I and Veteran’s Day in the United States.

12/12 is the cusp of autumn and spring, taking on the attributes of the seasons which follow them, more than those which define them in the human mind. For me, the day gave me the energy and focus to make changes in some of my affairs, which needed to be simplified. It was also another day of remaining on the healthy side of things, which is never a small matter.

It is mildly cold here, and will likely remain so until mid-January, when the days gradually begin lengthening, a minute at a time. I’ve actually found December to offer the greatest chance of snow, here in Prescott, though it looks like that won’t happen this year. Someone recently made a remark- “We get the weather we deserve.” Well, if sunshine is what we have coming to us, that will be okay for a time, but there is the water question.

So far, though, 12/12 has not been a day of either significance or trouble-at least around here. May the Christmas season, even with physical distancing, remain a time for celebrating commonality.

I Beg to Differ

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December 11, 2020-

Simply put:

When someone tells me that no one died, six years ago next Monday, at Sandy Hook Elementary School and that all the kids are in Witness Protection somewhere,

I beg to differ.

When someone tells me to shut up about those trying to overturn a free and fair election,,

I beg to differ.

When someone says there is no reason to stop putting fetal humans to death, because they aren’t “real people”,

I beg to differ.

When someone says that advocating the increased participation of people of colour in the life of the nation is itself racist,

I beg to differ.

When someone insists that White people can only lose, if “those others” advance,

I beg to differ.

When someone sprinkles urine, and tells me it’s raining,

I beg to differ.

The days when we ought to accept being treated as if we were all born yesterday are long gone.

Take a hike, wirepullers.

Facing the Dark

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December 9, 2020-

A few days ago, I took breakfast at a cafe whose owners subscribe to a more dated world view, one more widely expressed in the American West, of the 19th and early 20th Century. There are many good things about the Old West- Respect for others, unbreakable honesty and “My word is my bond”, parents who stood tall for their children. The immediacy of frontier justice, however, may have worked then, but it is now a tool of dark forces.

I felt a bit sluggish, most of today, until my chiropractor adjusted me back into shape. It underscores just how much more I need to ramp up my stamina. While I continue to monitor my temperature and vital signs, as long as COVID-19 remains a nationwide threat, thus far I feel no symptoms. I practice CDC-recommended hygiene, prudently, and know that stressing wellness, and not panicking, are what will get us through in the long run. It has been hard to say farewell to thirty-one people this year, but others have had it far worse. In the end, the darkness of coronavirus will be sundered, by policies and practices of wellness and medical treatment.

Depending on one’s point of view, either the will of the people is being honoured or it is being flouted. I have been told, by fearful individuals, to keep my views on the state of this country to myself, as if silence will stop the worst of things from happening. Truth is, only vigilance will do that and vigilance requires following the laws of the land. The darkness of wishful thinking, combined with the darkness of censorship-both institutional and individual, will cause only continula heartbreak.

The darkness always prepares us for the light that will follow, if we pay attention. In twelve days’ time, the planets Jupiter and Saturn will appear as one, in the southern sky. They will remind us that darkness, though it occupies half of the twenty-four hour day, in time of winter, is no more than the absence of light.

The darkness of ignorance cries out for knowledge. The darkness of disease summons us to better slef-care and wellness. The darkness of fear and hate asks for understanding and a safe way forward.

We can, and will, move into the Light, but it will take a great deal of forebearance and caution, on all sides.

Limekiln Trail, Section 3

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December 8, 2020- At long last, I got myself on track and found the trailhead from which one may walk from the far western edge of Sedona to the northern edge of Cottonwood, a distance of five miles via Limekiln Trail. It was not a particularly chanllenging trail, though I felt the effects of being housebound and Zoom-bound, for much of the past eight months. A series of 30-minute workouts at Planet Fitness keep me in a modicum of shape, but it will take the rigours of the trail, even a fairly flat trail like the Deer Pass-Bill Grey segment, to get back into a semblance of “fighting trim”.

A rumour reached me that I was likely in the presence of a COVID-positive person, last week. It happens, though, that this individual was nowhere near the school, during the days I was working there, so once again, no worries. People are so worn down, so exaperated by the pandemic, that they will often take anything they hear, and run with it, whilst inwardly trembling. I ask one and all, to step back and breathe-We will beat this challenge, by adhering to common sense rules of hygiene, and ,more importantly, of wellness.

Now, back to the trail-

Here is the eastern end of the segment, at Deer Pass. A discerning eye might notice a human face or two, in the midst of the cairn .
In order to access the trail to the west, one must use this underpass, under Highway 89 A.

The handles to the gates, on this segment, are diagonal, and after wiggling the handle out, it is then necessary to either lift the gate up, or push it down, in order to secure it again.

Most of the trail is single track, like this, though some of the hike involved walking on US Forest Service roads.
One of the Forest Service roads that serve as connectors.
Igneous rock, deposited by volcanic eruptions, further afield, hundreds of thousands of years ago, make the long hike through the Sheepshead Mountain/Canyon sector, all the more fascinating.
This is the remnant of what was likely a miner’s camp, atop Sheepshead Mountain.
This is another marker of a miner’s camp, also long-abandoned.
Here is the top of Sheepshead Mountain’s west ridge. The summit, east of the trail, is fairly lush.
Sage brush has its own fall colours, which arrive on the scene when deciduous trees have long since turned a ghastly gray.
So, too, does Prickly Pear Cactus, especially at higher elevations, offer its fall colours.
Crossings of dry creekbeds and washes abound on this sector of the trail. There are Spring Creek, Sheepshead Creek-and Coffee Creek, which was also a favoured gathering place for miners, in the early Twentieth Century.

So, a long-standing itch in my saddle got scratched. I re-found the junction of Limekiln and Bill Grey Road, which had gotten lost in my mind, for several months.

Bill Grey Road, at its junction with Limekiln Trail.

The remaining sector of Limekiln runs from Deer Pass to Red Rock State Park, further in towards Sedona. It is a distance of seven miles, one way, so I would likely either start early in the morning or would camp overnight at Red Rock. Either way, it’s likely to wait for March or April, with a smidgen more daylight. There are a few other trails in our area that await, and which present shorter distances, out and back.

Pearl Harbor

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December 7, 2020-

Today was my first weekday without work, in quite a while. I toyed with taking a hike somewhere, but ended up focusing on getting my Christmas cards and message ready for mailing-actually getting a few of them sent out. I also organized the Beta version of my life story, with the draft now in the hands of its editor.

Otherwise, today was a day for taking stock of our debt of gratitude to a generation who, in a very real sense, saved the best of our way of life. The 79th anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor once again put the spotlight on my parents’ generation. Two survivors of the attack on the USS Arizona are still alive. Several thousand veterans of World War II, as a whole, are still with us- including a dozen or so Code Talkers, from various First Nations and a small number of Tuskegee Airmen. All who served, regardless of their status in a then-segregated military, merit the appreciation of their countrymen.

Pearl Harbor, among all attacks on United States soil, remains perhaps the most infamous such event, if only because it came totally without warning-and at a time when good faith negotiations were underway between Imperial Japan and the United States. We saw, for the first time, a comprehensive plan for bringing a global conflict to North America. We saw the possibility of domination by forces whose philosophies of governance and economics were at variance with our own.

Because of the novelty of this attack, there were overreactions- Internment of Japanese-Americans being the worst of those. Mistakes get made, in dealing with situations with which we have no experience. Nonetheless, our country’s overall response to the attack on Pearl Harbor was rapid, intense and correct. Our continuing expressions of appreciation, for those who carried out that response, should never let up.

Grapevine Magic

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November 29, 2020, Plano

Seven weeks from now, Texas Home Base will shift, from this sprawling corporate headquarters town to the mid-19th Century agricultural hub of Grapevine. Of course, Arizona Home base will remain primary, but little family is here-for some holiday and milestone celebrations.

Grapevine was founded in 1844, near the site of a village of Caddo people, known as Tah-wa-Karro, after the wild grapes that grew there. Despite the name, Grapevine’s mainstays were cotton, then cantaloupes. Its produce, and place on the main route from Dallas to Fort Worth, have drawn a railroad station and Dallas-Fort Worth International Airport, for which Grapevine has the north entrance.

Grapevine has also marketed iself as “Texas’s Christmas City”, so on our visit yesterday, we spotted many holiday decorations and displays. Then, too, there are several parks, for outdoor activities in the short-grass pririe setting. We also spent some time at Meadowmere Park, in Grapevine and at Bob Jones Park, in nearby Southlake.

Here are some scenes of downtown Grapevine and of Bob Jones Park.

Main Street, Grapevine-with a rail station waiting room
Flying Unicorn, Main Street, Grapevine
Christmas Greetings, Main Street, Grapevine
Grapevine City Hall
Fishing Pond, Bob Jones Park, Southlake, TX
Christmas display, near restored log cabin, downtown Grapevine

The Grapevine area has many other sights and treasures, which will be part of the anchor, in the coming years.

The Prairie Sings

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November 26, 2020, Plano-

The prairie sings of those

who once walked among its grasses,

both short and tall.

The Spaniards came, one day,

and brought horses.

The People learned to ride

and their world changed.

The forests sing of those

who cleared useful paths

among their fastnesses,

cultivated plants, grew herbs

and managed the moose and deer.

The French and English came

and bought furs.

The People learned to trade

and their world changed.

Yhe deserts sing

of those who learned to grow

maize, squash and chilis,

by building irrigation canals

and by dry farming.

The Spanish came here, too,

seeking gold and silver.

The People learned to delude

and their world changed.

The People were here,

long before wars,

religious conflict

and pestilence

brought others from Europe,

as natural calamities,

wars and pestilence

had sent them

here, from three directions,

millennia before.

Now, the People are still here.

Nothing can destroy those

whose hearts and souls

are rooted in Mother Earth,

who sings of all her children.

I hope one and all had a Happy Thanksgiving, as the three of us had.It was non-traditional, as we grilled chicken sausages and carne asada on a gas grill outside, in Plano Home’s outside pavilion. The dessert was chocolate pecan pie. It was as close to the traditional Thanksgiving Dinner as the original meal probably was- with its menu of oysters and clams, squab, pheasant, maize and fiddlehead greens. It was unlikely that any turkey with dressing was served, nor was there any pumpkin pie. Thanksgiving, then as now, is a festival of the heart.

The East Wing

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November 22, 2020-

On this day, fifty-seven years ago, the trigger was pulled on hope and change in America, as fleeting as it seemed to be under John F. Kennedy. Too many who flew the banner of progress, in the 1960s and ’70s, had their lives cut short by those who had much invested in the status quo.

On that day, I remember sitting in a middle-of-the room seat, in a Study Hall, in the East Wing of Saugus High School. We were attending afternoon sessions, as eighth graders, as our Junior High School had been torched by a disturbed individual, several weeks before. Thus, the high school was the site of double sessions, with the upper level students taking classes in the morning, so as to be able to go their jobs, in the afternoon.

A classmate, who was sitting behind me, asked “Why did you kill the President?” I turned around and looked at him curiously, then noted he was listening to his transistor radio (the predecessor to a cell phone, for the disaffected of our adolescence), through ear buds. All the same, I went back to my reading material.

Several minutes later, the School Counselor came on the Intercom and informed us that President Kennedy had been shot and that classes were being dismissed for the day. I walked home, somberly, and found my sobbing mother, saying he had died in hospital.

The East Wing was itself torched, by the same individual, who was eventually caught by a vigilant school custodian, at our third venue of that year. 1963-64 was, for me, the 2020 of virulent mayhem. There was no microbial pandemic, but I began to wonder who, and what, were next. Five years later, we had our answer.

I will always be fond, though, of the East Wing. All the schools we used that year are now gone, replaced by consolidated school buildings, which the present administration of Saugus Public Schools regards as more efficient. For the sake of the children and youth who depend on that school system, I trust it works out well.