Category Archives: Travel

Random Thoughts On The Passing Scene

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Education, Family, impediments, Inner Struggles, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

February 7, 2021- I had a relatively productive day, getting a Special Needs child to do what her lead teacher said was a prodigious amount of work. That the child let me know when she’d had enough, in a nice way, was certainly fair, and she got a break for the last half hour.

The title of today’s post is borrowed from the great Thomas Sowell, with whom I have rarely agreed, but whose tone has always been respectful towards those of other viewpoints and whose diction has always been impeccable. Dr. Sowell’s columns of this ilk would touch on three or four items of general interest. This post will look at three such topics.

I am curious, as to why Supreme Court Associate Justice Clarence Thomas joined in a ruling that stayed a prior ruling, by a lower court, which would have nullified redistricting maps for Congressional seats, in the State of Alabama. Then again, he ruled earlier, with the majority of the Court, that much of the Voting Rights Act of 1965 was antiquated and thus worthy of disposal. It is likely that the good Justice feels he will vote anyway, when the spirit moves, and needs no special fiat from Congress, or any other organization. He’s right in that respect, and it should always have been thus. Reality, though, oftentimes needs a nudge. No one in their right mind is going to tell an Associate Justice of the United States Supreme Court to shuffle on down the road. As for those among the Joe and Jane Sixpacks of the nation, who happen to be African-American, the facts sometimes tell a different story. We have a long way to go, in the area of bona fide equality between the “races”. Going backwards should never be on the table.

Nina O’Brien, one of the top members of the United States Olympic Skiing Team, suffered a debilitating leg injury, in yesterday’s competition, at the Beijing Games. My parental mode kicked into gear, at this news. The heart hurts when any young person hurts, especially when the person is acting responsibly and in good faith. Active sport always entails a risk, as does any vigourous activity. Nonetheless, and even though this particular Games event is unlikely to turn out to be an American medals blowout, my heart goes out to everyone who has made the effort to keep this a sporting event, and not a High Five for authoritarian excess.

On a more personal note, in planning a combination observational and family/friends visit to the Southeast, from mid-March to mid-April, I came upon an eponymous soul, who is one of the management team at a botanical garden, in southwest Florida. He says he’ll be glad to meet me, and likewise. There are only about a half dozen of us, so this interesting encounter will likely be far more personally affirming than, say, a gathering of the John Smith Association or Mohammad Ali Society, if such entities even exist. That said, my best to everyone named John Smith, or Mohammad Ali.

Of Conquistadors and Tigres

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Posted by on in animal and plant life, Hiking and Nature, Personal Values, Social, Striving, Travel

January 31, 2022- Carrie is another soul whom I could swear I’ve known for centuries. The young Park Ranger minds the Visitors’ Center at Coronado National Memorial, assisted by a small crew of Border Patrol agents who keep watch on the roads that intersect this National Park property, in southwest Cochise County. We talked, for about thirty minutes, about the effects of the border wall and barbed-wire fence on the movement of wildlife, especially large cats (jaguars and ocelots). She sees the barriers as a trade-off for security that definitely makes her own situation a lot safer-though she longs for the day when such blockades are unnecessary. The ease of our conversation reminded me of others, with whom I could walk in and begin speaking, as if we were resuming an interaction that had been interrupted by some strange event, a while back. Then, too, there was the group of mule deer, which visits her and watches through the large picture window. They are like members of her family.

The Monument, as its known hereabouts, commemorates the explorations of Juan Vazquez de Coronado and his party, who marched from Compostela, on the west coast of Mexico Proper, through the Sonoran Desert and the Sky Island country of what is now southern Arizona, clear past the Rocky Mountains of present-day New Mexico and Colorado, to an area of central Kansas, near Salina, which he called Quivira. The expedition was manned largely by indigenous Mexicans, with a few hundred Spaniards and a hundred or so Africans. Coronado’s legacy, like that of most European conquerors, is a mixed bag. He is no hero to the Puebloans, whose ancestors were slaughtered in the Tiguex War of the mid-Sixteenth Century, but is remembered more neutrally by the Apache and by the Plains nations, such as the Wichita and Arapaho.

Here are some views of Coronado National Memorial. Below is Ranger Carrie’s work space.

Visitors’ Center, Coronado National Memorial
Limestone outcropping, along road to Coronado Peak Overlook

I dubbed these the Jaguar Watch.

Mule Mountains, seen from Coronado Lookout
Border Wall, in San Pedro Valley, east of Coronado Range
Landscape of Sonora, south of Coronado National Memorial
Cane cholla and yucca plants signal the transition zone between Sonoran and Chihuahuan Deserts

The southern terminus of the 800-mile Arizona Trail can be reached by hiking the steep, 3-mile round trip Yaqui Ridge Trail. This is a task for another visit, possibly in early March. As it was, the day was well-spent, and featured everything from a power outage, just before I checked out of Motel 6 in Douglas to a Zoom meeting that I joined from Casa Grande’s Public Library. In between was the rewarding time spent at “the Monument” .

Every Town Matters

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Posted by on in Community, distraction issues, Family, Historical, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

January 30, 2022, Douglas, AZ- The little boy, in the room next to mine, tried to open the door separating us. Of course, after a minute or so, his parents took him away from the door and there was no further attempt at a surprise visit. I would not have minded, if he had poked his head through the door, as long as Mom and Dad were close by.

I have also had a couple of “surprise visits” on the phone, from adult friends who thought they knew best how I might be spending my time. There is the usual “You’re out of town, so you must be on vacation” mindset and the “You’re in this area, so therefore you must go to….” prescription. Prescott is not a place I regard as a 24/7 work environment and while I appreciate suggestions or networking connections, when I am on the road, my schedule is basically set, most often with a good deal of forethought and inspiration.

I came to Douglas, and spent two days here, because I felt the urge to devote spiritual energy to this area and to the border. I had also wanted to connect with a Baha’i friend in Bisbee, not far away, but the person was not available. That much more time was thus spent on the former.

Douglas was founded as a railroad town, mainly as a place to load and haul copper and gold to points east and west. The rail depot is now the Police Station.

Douglas Railroad Depot

I walked from there to the border station, being careful to not enter any area that was within the actual processing district, to dissuade the few grifters and beggars who tried to make their case for “sharing” and to show kindness to those who were obviously leery of being accosted by anyone, so soon after having crossed the frontier.

Raul Hector Castro Port of Entry, Douglas, AZ

Just before I got to the bench near the crossing, I spotted a white dove, resting on the branch of a tree, in Douglas’ west side park.

Dove in a tree, not far from border crossing

Douglas matters, for more than just its border crossing. A vibrant Mexican culture transcends the border here, as it does in many places, from Brownsville to San Ysidro. There is also a core group of regenerators, people who are either willing to invest in the infrastructure or are, as a small family of siblings and cousins at an innovative bakery and restaurant called Mana’, putting in serious hours to draw people TO Douglas, not to have them just pass THROUGH the town. Mana’ has an electronic menu, accessible only by phone or computer and it is one of the more extensive I’ve seen, for an establishment of its size, with over a dozen unusual omelet and Mexican scramble items. If the town can draw a music and arts scene, the way nearby Bisbee has, Douglas can again make its mark. In fact, I had three meals at Mexican restaurants here-and all were great. That can also be a draw- a culinary mecca!

Two Kinds of Walls

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Posted by on in Assistance, Community, impediments, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

January 29, 2022, Douglas, AZ- The wall stands high and firm, topped by barbed wire, and keeping Douglas separate from Agua Prieta-at least in theory. In reality, all that is happening is that the flow of people back and forth is slowed down and somewhat regulated. There are rules for entering the United States and rules for entering Mexico. Some come from one country, looking for work in the other-and occasionally the converse is true. Some seek work in both countries.

US-Mexican Border wall, at Douglas, Arizona/Agua Prieta, Sonora

I will return to visit Mexico in earnest, at some point in the intermediate future. This weekend, though, my business is north of La Frontera. My sole journey to El Vecino del Sur today was gastronomic-a dinner of Enchilada Sonorense, a flat enchilada of maza harina (corn meal), mixed with beaten egg, then fried and topped with shredded cheese (queso blanco) and chopped onions, in a mild salsa.

I was the sole customer at El Alamo Restaurant, but it should not reflect on the quality of the food. The server, who seemed to be the owner’s son, spent most of his time in the kitchen, in between taking my order and bringing out the food. No matter; for a vegetarian Sonoran-style meal, this was very filling and tasty. I have yet to have a bad Mexican meal-at a Mama & Papi establishment, and this makes one more.

The day began with a few messages back and forth between our old friend, who I visited yesterday, and me. An hour or so was then spent on Zoom, with a group of friends from various countries, who meet each Saturday morning, in a Celebration of Unity. We mostly prayed for those suffering from Cyclone Ana, which hit the western Indian Ocean Basin and southeastern Africa, over the past several days-and for those in the northeast US, who are dealing with the “Bomb Cyclone” and an extra heavy snowfall.

I left Tucson, around 11 a.m. and drove to Bisbee. Finding a friend there to be absent, a brief stop at High Desert Market Cafe showed that it has grown in popularity, since my last Bisbee visit. The food remains delectable, and the menu has grown. All the seating is outside, but the sun was gracious today and I felt much at home. My main objective here being not fulfillable, this time around, I headed on towards Douglas.

This brings me to the second kind of wall: Lack of communication. I had made room reservations at a place that called itself Extended Stay America, Douglas. After last summer’s experience with the grifters at Quaker Inn, Uxbridge, MA, I did not pay in advance. This was fortunate, as I found ESA Douglas also closed and largely under renovation. No one was onsite , with whom I could discuss the matter-so I left, and found Motel 6 had left the light on. Cancelling the first reservation, with Expedia, was easy-as was filing my complaint.

I end the day, quite content, and ready for a day of serendipity, as Coronado National Monument, my second border area stop, will occupy my Monday morning-before it’s time to head back to Prescott. Sunday will unfold as it unfolds.

When A Trailer Is A Palace

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, impediments, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

January 28, 2022, Marana, AZ- The short, solid and loquacious woman stood outside the trailer she shares with her oldest son. Her instructions to me were concise, clear and almost unending, from the time I let her know I was in the area to the time I bade them both farewell.

There are at least six mobile home parks in the area of Tucson where G and C live. They each make the best of life here, with G doing what she has done, as long as I’ve known her (which is nearly forty years): Teaching all who will listen about Baha’u’llah and His message. She is also a vibrant champion of Native American history and the legacy of the people.

When I arrived at the trailer park, this evening, I was directed, in short order, towards the resting place of two of G’s children. We spent a half hour or so, not worrying about the chilly wind-but paying homage to two brave souls, who were cut down before they had the chance to bring their talents to the service of humanity.

Once back at the trailer, I was reminded of the admonition of ‘Abdu’l-Baha, that the simplest of dwellings ought to be regarded with dignity and respect. In G’s room, I felt I was in a palace-and her presence was regal. I, who have managed to fill a three-room apartment with all manner of stuff, stood in awe of this humble woman, who has little-yet the place seemed altogether full. I was given small gifts that I will forever treasure.

One never knows how a day will end, even when much has been planned in advance. Today was a truly special one.

The Tendrils Do Not Fade

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, Family, impediments, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

January 14, 2022- The gentlemen and lady came onto a Zoom session, this evening, to speak of the history of Baha’i in their land, as the centennial of its arrival there had just been celebrated. I have alluded to our time there as well, on several occasions.

The influence of South Korea on my life cannot be minimized-especially given Aram’s birth there and his lifelong ties to both Korean and Japanese culture-accented by his marriage to Yunhee. I last went there, in 2019, for the religious ceremony that helped cement that marriage. The country has done quite well, materially, and has had a considerable influence, as well, on the the burgeoning global culture.

Connections I made there, had for the most part, seemed to have faded over the years. It was almost symbolic, when the plaque that Penny and I had been given, at the end of our work in Jeju, in 1992, fell off its stand and irreparably shattered, in 2017. It was not long after that, though, that Aram and Yunhee met. A more formidable, enduring bond was created.

The tendrils that remain between the Korean people and me are thus not going to be broken-and if anything, are one of the strongest threads that are connecting this one’s world. From those threads came ties to Hawaii, Taiwan, all parts of the U.S, and now to Albania, of all places, where a friend from our Jeju days has settled.

There are ties that keep me here-and those that will serve as a safety net, in many places far afield. It all started with a chance move to Korea, thirty-six years ago.

Uncrossing Wires

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Family, impediments, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Striving, Travel

January 13, 2022- I found myself carrying two rectangular baskets of groceries a short distance, to a friend who was down with a cold and thus away from her work. This small act, at the behest of her mother, who is also a good friend, took less than five minutes-but made her week food secure.

Earlier, the focus was different. Three missed phone calls had to be resolved. One was easy-corrected by an e-mail thread. A second, which took a bit longer, was necessitated by someone, in the phone queue ahead of me, dealing with the passing of a loved one. That is not at all hard for me to comprehend. Anyone dealing with grief needs wide latitude and a ton of compassion. The third, variously involving a robot greeter; two answering services-one Indian, the other Australian; and the actual scheduler, took five tries-before we managed to connect and get the task accomplished.

That brings me to the substance of the task. I had cleared my calendar for the month of March, and was in the planning stages of a trip to the Deep South. The schedule will be adjusted: Mid-March to mid-April, in order to tend to three very small procedures, each taking less than an hour, but spaced over a three-week period, by insurance regulations. Those three dates are a week apart, in the first half of March.

It is my one duty to self and family to tend to any health hiccups, early and systematically. The wires need to remain uncrossed.

So Onward It Is

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Family, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

January 1, 2022- We received our first, and possibly only snow of this new month, right about the time that the Boot dropped and the fireworks went off. It was also the time that I called it a night, as well as a year.

Prescott, January 1, 2022

People have been wishing for 2022 to arrive since a) the inauguration of President Biden; b) the Delta variant started worming its way around; c) New Year’s Day of 2020. I personally adopted the time-honoured practice of taking one day at a time-back in 2002, when Penny first began showing real signs of decline. I have seen no reason to change that practice, since. Still, life does require some sort of planning.

So, today prompted me to think, first, about this day-which has ended up being largely a restful Saturday, aside from going to Farmers’ Market and helping scrape some of the ice off the asphalt in front of a good friend’s stall, and picking up a few items-including a beeswax candle. Then came a stop at Peregrine Books, for a journal, wall calendar and a copy of Carlos Ruiz Zafon’s “The City of Mist”. The laundromat was closed, so that’s put off until tomorrow, as is the carwash.

Then, I thought about this month. Visiting with Baha’i friends in western and southern Arizona will take up the second and fifth weekends. There are commitments here at Home Base, the third and fourth weekends. Work? I will choose my assignments carefully. After this past week’s fires in Colorado, I am also leaving myself open to Red Cross activity.

February looks quiet, right now. March will find me hopping on a train, a bus or some combination of the two-plus spot car rentals, and visiting family and friends in the Southeast, particularly Georgia and Florida. April and May will be a bit less frenetic, though visits to southern California Nevada are likely during that time. June and the first part of July will see a train trip up the West Coast, to several places in Canada and back across the U.S. The rest of July, August and September are open, and will be quiet, unless duty calls. October hopefully means Europe (Iceland, Sweden, Poland, Croatia, Bosnia, Germany and France-with a bit of Scotland possible). November and December will also be open. All of this depends on God being willing and the creek staying in its bed. After all, the last two journeys have been postponed twice. The postponements are probably a good thing. We Baha’is have received important guidance on the nine year spiritual plan that will certainly determine the basis for many, if not most, of my activities going forward. A spiritual element is present, whether I am at Home Base or going about the wider world. It is not, as someone once remarked, a simple matter of “going about here and there, taking photographs”. God knows, I could rent a drone to do that.

Having covered the “What” and “Where”, it’s time for the “Why”. Basically, I thrive on both connections with people-and on those connections being both virtual and real time. Rudimentary networks were established in 2014 and 2015, which I want to strengthen-along with making new connections, this year and in the four years to follow. This is how, to my mind and heart, the planet may be unified- with my doing a small but worthwhile part.

Happy 2022, and as another friend said yesterday, it’ll be a year-no promises, either way. We just set our courses and do our level best.

Strength Shines Brightly

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, Family, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Striving, Travel

December 30, 2021- The server/manager was sitting quietly with her toddler daughter, as I entered the otherwise empty room. There is that ting, ting ,ting that goes off, when the door opens, so she quietly arose and, with her regal bearing, greeted me with a slight smile and took my order. Shortly afterward, a local couple entered, followed by two other parties, and the restaurant’s owner, there only to give her hard-working friend a gift bag. Such is the way, at Double C Diner, in Moriarty, New Mexico.

I first happened by this spot, two years ago, whilst staying at the nearby Lariat Motel, on the first day of a cross-country drive. Back then, the little girl was just learning to get around on her own and was into everything. Moriarty is a town of close-knit families, so the mother was able to focus on her serving duties, while a fair number of aunts, uncles and cousins tended to the child, until her father showed up and took over.

When I choose places to patronize, the quality of the product does matter. Equally important, however, is the character of those who work there, their inner strength, work ethic, demeanour and the resulting radiance. That has made me go back to places like Zeke’s, The County Seat and Raven Cafe, here in Prescott; Macy’s, in Flagstaff; Harbor Breakfast, in San Diego; Henry and The Fish, and The Pantry, in Santa Fe; D’s Diner, in Wilkes-Barre-and Double C. The energy of the young staff helps, but it is the ambiance of joy and warmth that makes all the difference.

J had almost a sixth sense, quietly and seamlessly moving between her motherly duties and running the restaurant that was getting busier-while the cook and the dishwasher were going about their tasks. Everything happened in an atmosphere of calm strength. (Eventually, from watching another patron, it dawned on me that J was not going to run my bill back and forth to her register, so I got up and paid. Her twinkling eyes said it all- “You’re okay”.) That, too, characterizes every one of the places I mentioned above-and many others. Jess, (not her real name), is symbolic of what has kept, and will continue to maintain, our world in good form. It is focused energy, mindfulness of surroundings and recognition that all that is successful in life happens in its due time which will keep our Race on track.

As I drove back to Prescott this evening, that awareness, and the sense that all is going to be alright in our world-regardless of setbacks, or temporary misunderstandings, kept my thoughts in perspective.

‘Notice All, Whether Large or Small’

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Posted by on in collaborating, Entertainment, Historical, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

December 29, 2021, Santa Fe- In many rancheria homes, of Spanish Land Grant-era New Mexico, a rattlesnake skeleton is embedded in the middle of a bench (banca), that extends out from the wall of the central living room. It is not certain, as to the origin of this practice, but Georgia O’Keeffe observed it, in her “town home” at Abiquiu, Mew Mexico.

Rattlesnake skeleton, encased in the middle of an adobe bench (banca), at O’Keeffe Museum, Santa Fe

I had the pleasure of visiting the O’Keeffe Museum, in central Santa Fe, this morning. After being awakened by a voice that was neither male nor female, I noticed that it was 7 a.m. and that a light snow had fallen overnight. Cleaning off the car with what was little more than a feather duster, left by the previous owner, I found the streets bare and traffic rather light. A fine breakfast at French Pastry Shop and short walk around the lobby of La Fonda Hotel began the morning in earnest.

Lobby, La Fonda Hotel, Santa Fe

There was a fair crowd at the O’Keeffe Museum, as the doors opened at 10 a.m. In keeping with Georgia’s advice to her students to pay as much attention to the small and subtle, as to the large and boisterous, each of us took turns in looking at the paintings, sketches and ceramics, in each of nine galleries. Most of the offerings were the work of Georgia O’Keeffe herself. There were a few photographs of the artist, by her husband, Alfred Stieglitz, who also provided scenes of New York City, as did their mutual friend, Ansel Adams, who, like Georgia, is more associated with depictions of nature. A more contemporary student of Georgia’s work, Josephine Halvorson, is the first artist-in-residence at Ghost Ranch, where Georgia spent most of her time, after the death of her husband. Josephine has a gallery of her work in this museum, being the only artist other than Georgia O’Keeffe herself to be thus honoured. Josephine painstakingly studied Georgia’s life and work at Ghost Ranch and provides scenes such as the one below.

“O’Keeffe’s Dishes”, by Josephine Halvorson

Of all of Georgia O’Keeffe’s work, her Blue Paintings appeal to me the most. Many of them were marked “Do Not Photograph”. There were at least a couple which were recordable, though. Here is one such.

“Blue 8”, by Georgia O’Keeffe


Not all of her work was earthbound, however. On a plane, between New York and Albuquerque, this scene was captured in her mind and made it to canvas.

“Above The Clouds”, by Georgia O’Keeffe

In contemplating this scene, I recalled my own first airplane flight, from Newark to Atlanta, in 1969, and a similar feeling of being in a very different realm.

Once finishing a satisfying visit to the O’Keeffe, I paid a quick visit to my friends at the coffee house, Henry and The Fish, bought a birthday present for a friend in Prescott at the Palace of the Governors and stocked up on ballpoint pens, before strolling down Burro Alley- a perfect representation of the type of small neighbourhood that Georgia liked to frequent.

Burro Alley, Santa Fe
“Burro” at the west end of Burro Alley, Santa Fe (artist unnamed)

Thus did an overcast morning become blessed.