Prescott Circle Trail, Segment 1, Part 1: In Granite Basin

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May 19, 2016, Prescott- This is a different sort of Throwback Thursday.  Last Sunday’s hike took place, in between two social gatherings.  It’s important, somehow, that I complete Prescott Circle Trail, before summer starts.  So, May 15’s sumptuous afternoon found me hiking from Iron Springs Road to just above Granite Basin Road, a distance of 3 miles each way.

I began by crossing the first fairly busy roadway, Iron Springs Road, then down a mildly steep path, across Willow Creek’s relatively benign gorge, and along an easy trail to the overlook for Granite Basin, one of the most majestic places in Yavapai County.

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South trailhead, Prescott Circle Trail, Segment 1, near Iron Springs Road

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Granite Mountain, peaking over the south ridge of Granite Basin

Granite Mountain lords it over this area, as it does, by extension, over the cities of Prescott, to the south, and Chino Valley, to the north.

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Thumb Butte, to the south, isn’t about to be ignored.

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As always in the Southwest, boulders are a huge presence in Granite Basin.

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This resembles an ancient philosopher king, from some city-state in the Mediterranean region.

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Granite Mountain comes into clearer focus, at the edge of the Basin.

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The Basin itself has been the source of hours of pleasurable exploration for me, in the past few years.

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The sweep of Granite Basin, leading to the great mountain.

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The summit of Granite Mountain, through the afternoon haze.

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An old friend, “Mini Sphinx”, about a mile along Willow Trail, my diversion for the early evening, before hiking back to Iron Springs.

Lastly, here are a couple of  flower-gems, so that the little beings are not overlooked.

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Fireweed flowers punctuate the sandy brushland.

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Desert Dandelion are found, closer to the Basin rim.

This area has been an old comfort to me, both when I first came here, in April, 2011, and at various points along the Grief Road.  That it is the near ending of a 55-mile circle around my adopted home base seems most appropriate.  In a few days, I will complete Segment One, from Willow Trail to Williamson Valley Road.  Summer looks to be soothing, followed by a return to a secure work environment.

Amen To All That

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May 17, 2016, Prescott- Things went better at work today, as I knew they would.  Contrition replaced stridency, and my supervisor announced, at the start of the day, that no one would be allowed to talk politics in class.

My son had a successful laser eye treatment, this morning, and is now at his home, enjoying renewed clarity of vision.  We had a fine conversation, this evening, as usual. He is proactive with his personal affairs, so I feel a firm foundation was set, both with our guidance and with our mistakes, from which he learned.

Preliminary job feelers have come out, regarding next academic year, from my current department.  It’s nice to be again making a good impression.  I would be primarily responsible for helping a young autistic man, with academics and life skills, and, by extension, working with others who need academic assistance.  The process should take not much more than a week.

I have been admonished by some who feel I am too busy.  Well, there is always a lot going on, but here I am with the free time to write, in clear-headed fashion.  There are end-of-year events, this week and next, along with a charity dinner for the family of a woman who died from childbirth complications.  I will need to get my vehicle serviced on Friday, and head to an old stomping ground, Keams Canyon, on Saturday, to support Baha’is who have moved there recently, at a devotional meeting they are having.  Then, once school is done, it’ll be time to help a friend in Reno move to Carson City.

Busy, somewhat, but feeling productive is a good thing, for me.

NEXT:  Another hike along Prescott Circle, this time in Granite Basin.

 

 

 

 

Not Your Call

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May 16, 2016, Prescott- 

(This is in response to people of various ages, who have attempted to harass me, in recent days.)

I am of “mixed race”.

It’s not your call,

whether I work in a particular school.

That I don’t fit your criteria

of Correct Colour,

means nothing.

I am a straight male, who acts his age.

It’s not your call,

whether I work in a particular classroom.

That I don’t like your gay come-ons,

and insults, means nothing-

to me, or to my friends,

whether they themselves are gay or straight.

I am a World Citizen.

It’s not your call,

as to for whom I vote,

who I call friend,

or who I think should be allowed in the United States,

or anywhere else.

Your fear blinds you,

a naturalized citizen.

It does not blind me.

Enemies of mine,

I make and live by my choices.

These are my calls,

supported by my friends,

those of my family who support me,

and my supervisors at work,

who believe in me.

I Didn’t Realize

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May 14, 2016, Prescott–

Many are the faux pas

that have passed my lips

into the twilight.

I didn’t realize,

until I was scolded,

that the way to get

a neighbourhood cleaned up

was not to just point out the mess.

I was nine, at the time.

Now, I just show up with my trash bags,

and get started.

I didn’t realize,  at the time,

that the way to show

affinity with another, was not to copy his

speech and mannerisms.

Now, I accept people for who they are,

and myself, for who I am.

I didn’t realize, at the time,

that the way to show love to

women and girls,

was not to just go on and on

about how beautiful they are,

but to encourage and support,

from where they are,

to move towards their dreams.

Now, if I call you friend,

it means I have.your.back.

No strings attached.

 

Festivals

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May 13, 2016, Prescott- Yesterday was a very tightly-packed day.  Work was routine, at the small school where I spent one last, pre-arranged day,punctuated only by a snafu involving our paychecks.  This was nicely counterbalanced by a timely check from another district, where I spent another “final” day, late last month.

Dashing hither and yon, after work, I voted in an American Legion election, facilitated a Baha’i study session and finally settled in for the evening, at 7:30 P.M.  Someone remarked to me, earlier in the evening, that perhaps those with hyper-busy schedules are covering up something.  Maybe, but in my case,  there is more of a sense of responsibility.  Trust me, I do like my unwind-time, and am comfortable in my own skin.

Now, I am back at Prescott High School, for the last ten days of the academic year, with a very strong possibility of returning in the Fall.  It’s Spring Festival time, so a school end-of-year assembly was held this morning, and Carnival is now being held, somewhere on campus.  I am with a few of my kids who just need a place to sit and feel safe.  That’s always been my wont- in too many places in the world, there are marginalized people.  In any high school, most find a niche.  Some end up in niche like mine, a good-sized, comfortable classroom, with a few computers, three round tables and an air of “you matter”.

Festivals, like surfable waves, hiking trails and 5 P.M., are always to be found, somewhere in the world.  Most are modest affairs, appealing only to locals. Yet,  each of them makes a big difference in the lives of several people.  So, great and small, they sustain us.  I have felt sustenance from many festivals, from the annual Ridvan gatherings, Thanksgiving Dinners and the camaraderie of St. Patrick’s, Fourth of July and Hallowe’en to the  every-so-many-years that I might make it to Mardi Gras, Chusok or Diwali.

Mostly, though, it’s what you make of every single day, that constitutes a festival.

No Idea

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May 11, 2016, Chino Valley-  I went up here, today, and will again tomorrow, to fulfill a promise I made, before getting the long-term assignment at Prescott High School.   It gives me a chance to continue the friendships I was fortunate to establish, before leaving the little school, just before Christmas.

I have thought a lot about what my place actually is, in this tempestuous time.  All my life, quite honestly, I have felt good about putting other people ahead of myself, and have not suffered as a result.  This continues; my own needs are actually minimal.

Occasional melancholy creeps in, and I think of those I love, intensely, even in my own family, who have no idea how to love me back.  I have to remind myself that there are others, whom I have not loved back.  Part of the grieving process, for me, at least, has been keeping something of a lock on my heart.  When I have unlocked it, and reached out, it’s most often been at the wrong time, toward the wrong person, and BAM goes the hammer.

It’s a circular logic, I know, that has to stop with me.  So, I make an earnest, solemn vow to renew the commitment to having no expectations of anyone, other than myself.  It’s a process, and can be a rewarding one.  That, alone, is what gets me up in the morning, and keeps me looking forward to the next chapters.

Ghosts

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May 10, 2016, Prescott–

My thoughts go to a place called Xanga.

I’ve been informed that my subscription is over.

The ghost pieces that have built up there,

are to be the stuff of archives.

Bittersweet.

as that was a place I could reach out,

a place where I could learn to accept love from strangers,

a place where I could banter with snarky people,

and a place where I could deal with bullies and trolls.

My imagination ran free,

for the first time in a long while.

Many friendships were made,

many of them still thrive,

in real time.

Some were lost,

in the wake of culture wars,

misunderstandings,

upended relationships.

The wisps of thoughts,

long ago communicated,

as my truest love faded from life,

one hour, one day, one year at a time.

My cyberfriends joined our son,

in holding my hand,

keeping my mind intact,

helping my heart to heal.

As I write,

the cool presence of her spirit,

wafts over my hands,

reassuring.

 

 

Rewards

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May 9, 2016, Prescott-

After twelve years in the trenches,

Man has been given a respite.

His spot in the field may go

To one whose patience is well-tested.

In turn, the sanguine one will be secure.

Until it’s time for him to take a rest.

Love and joy can be the rewards

Of any who, the needs of others, do not ignore.

Maternal

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May 8, 2016, Prescott- Talking with my mother today, I learned she has a new smart phone- which I called her new “hobby”.  It’s great for her, at a certain age, to take up technology.  She wants to study every facet of it, slowly- so as not to get bollixed up. It was raining in the Boston area, as it was here, and was about the same temperature.  Everyone back there seems to be on an even keel, which I hope continues as long as possible.

She thanked me for thinking of her.  I can’t imagine a time when I would not do so.  Mom gave the best of her life for the five of us, for over 40 years .(There was fourteen years’ difference between my youngest brother, now deceased, and me.)  Helping her, when we can, is more than poetic justice.  She remarked that she knows of some mothers, whose children have not spoken to them in years.  What a terrible thing to have happen!  I am something of a loner, but I can’t imagine not keeping in regular touch with my family members- especially my mother, my son and siblings.

I wish for peace to be made, between those who are at odds with their parents, or their children.  There is no greater heartache, I would imagine, short of losing them to death.  Family is the bedrock of any society.  Happy Mother’s Day to all women who have nurtured a child to adulthood!

Nature’s Terror

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May 7. 2016, Prescott- Today is a rare kick-back day.  I did saunter down to our Saturday market, which is now back in my neighbourhood, until October.  The fresh produce will go into a Spring soup, once I pick up some organic meat at Trader Joe’s.  I also met some of the market’s other regulars, from last year.  It’s a lot more relaxed around here, than it was then.

Thinking of taking a short hike, I encountered rain that was serious enough to send me back inside.  Studying maps and reading took up the time, instead.  I have an inkling to go down to Prescott Valley, this evening, and join a group of friends who are attending a spiritual rock concert.

Our little Drum Circle thumped and chanted, last night, for, among other things, relief for Fort McMurray, Alberta.  It is a city of about 85,000 people, now mostly evacuated, due to the worst forest fire in North America, since our own Indian Fire, of 2002.  The fact that people were evacuated northward, then they ran out of food, is especially frightening.  Now, they have to somehow be brought out of harm’s way, and there was no safe route, as of this morning.  With all the tar sands nearby, the place may be extra incendiary.

I know that Canada, as a nation, is up to the horrific challenge- and as a North American, I will offer any support that the people request.  This is why we do best not to quibble about the inconsequential.