August 14, 2024- Bookend events today saw two friends, who have characteristically been upbeat and supportive, in sour and distant moods. I put this in the category of Dog Days, the heat-related period when people are more than fed up with ongoing dry heat, when in the old days, August Soggy was the result of active monsoon rains. Besides the notion that we can ill-afford an ongoing lack of precipitation, Dog Days make dogs surly and nice people get snippy.
All this makes my friends in tropical climates roll their eyes-just more North American, First World problems. Yes, I am unlikely to raise a fuss when I am across the Pacific, during late summer and into Autumn, as humidity and heat are an expected part of the experience. It is jarring though, to some extent, when those who have been friendly and supportive turn surly, not for anything I have necessarily done, but because they are sick and tired of being sick and tired. Regrouping myself, I will figure out how to be of help to them-and to keep from being more affected myself, by Dog Day mornings and afternoons.
Tonight, though, is crisp and cool, so I can use the respite to hydrate and enjoy a protein shake for supper. This, too, shall pass.
June 5, 2024- I read, a few days ago, about the “green glacier”-a euphemism for the growth and spread of junipers, also called red cedars, across a wide swath of tall-and-short-grass prairie, from north Texas to North Dakota. Trees are also spreading in the Canadian prairies, but more by design, and with less adverse effect.
Adverse effect? On the environment? From tree planting? Well, it seems that too many trees, in an area that is historically steppe, can serve to do things like darken the ground and make it hard for CO2 to escape back into the atmosphere. Too many trees can, in the view of some environmentalists, actually exacerbate global warming in the Plains states. My own view is that we hardly need to replace tall and short grasslands with forests, but that some forests are a good addition to the Prairie. I have hiked in small forests, in the Dallas area, when visiting my little family. On a torrid July day, being in the woods is never half bad-with proper bug repellent keeping insects and arachnids at bay and sunscreen/headgear on, for good measure, just as I would do anywhere else. I have, likewise, enjoyed outings all up and down the Great Plains, in forested areas.
Heat is here, at Home Base I-with June usually being the hottest, driest month of the year-closely followed by the post-monsoon portion of September. June Gloom doesn’t exist, this far inland, but we do share September Swelter with southern California. The high summer months are actually tempered, somewhat, by monsoon rains-at least here in the Central Highlands and in the mountains north and east of here.
I am fine, though, with ceiling fans, a window box A/C, plenty of water and an Amish drying rack for my clean clothes, freshly washed in cold water. Stay cool, calm and collected, wherever you are-and may humanity keep getting a handle on global warming.
August 22, 2023- The robust cat sat in my carport, right by the hatchback, and looked at me, as if tho say: “Have you thought this through? Are you sure you want to go up to the South Rim?” It was raining lightly, which was one reason why the cat was sitting in that dry spot. I had, however, looked at the weather forecast for Grand Canyon, and saw PC (partly cloudy).
So, northward I went. Stopping at my Williams favourite, Brewed Awakenings, I fueled up with a Light Wrap and coffee, then headed up to the Park, an hour away from downtown Williams. The first hour or so of my shuttle bus ride/walk was quite pleasant. I took these shots of the Bright Angel Trail, from Trailview Point, just to the west of the Bright Angel.
Bright Angel Trail, seen from the west.More of the Bright Angel Trail, from the west.Approaching rain, from Trailview Point
I got back on the shuttle bus and headed to Hopi Point, from where I planned to walk back towards the JW Powell Memorial and Maricopa Point. I got in these shots at Hopi.
Hopi Point and the Colorado River below.Approaching storm, from Hopi Point
I walked the short distance from Hopi Point to the Powell Memorial. It was then that lightning flashed in the east, a bus driver told me that we would all be evacuated from the Hermit Sector (the near west segment of the Rim Trail, which I had planned to explore in its entirety) and I found a spot to wait for an empty bus, as his was full. In about ten minutes, one arrived and took a bunch of us back to the transfer station. I went into Bright Angel Lodge and had a leisurely lunch, then returned to the transfer point and waited with about sixty other people, for the lightning danger to abate.
After about forty minutes, the storm was judged to have let up, and we went back towards Hermits Rest. I got off at Maricopa Point, walking about 200 yards, to these scenes.
Trailview Point, from Maricopa PointColorado River, from Maricopa PointThe defunct Orphan Mine (copper and uranium) was just below Maricopa Point. It is marked by this memorial.
As it was still not raining again, yet, I walked the .9 miles from Maricopa to Powell Memorial.
Plaque memorializing John Wesley Powell, first American navigator of the Colorado River, in the Grand Canyon.View of canyon, from Powell Point
Once I got this shot off, the rain began to return, and we were evacuated a second time. I commiserated with the shuttle driver, as it must be quite frustrating to have to repeat an evacuation, only an hour after the first one was lifted. Needless to say, it was time to head for the car and towards home base.
There was a slight hitch in that, as well. The road back to Williams goes through Tusayan, and that little tourist village was flooded. The county sheriff had a road block up, which put those staying in Tusayan, Valle or Williams-or who were scheduled to fly out of Grand Canyon Airport, in a bit of a pickle. For me, it meant driving back by way of Cameron and Flagstaff, which I did. On the way to Cameron, I saw one thing we on the Hermit Sector missed: A huge pile of hail had remnants at roadside, from Mather Point, east to Desert View.
Let it not be said that this year’s monsoon was a total bust.
July 17, 2023, Ludlow, CA- The sidewalks here, or the reasonable facsimile of same, roll up at 6 p.m., but only on the south side of the street. The cafe is closed, in other words. Across the street, the gas station/convenience store is open 24/7.
My first order of business, this morning, after packing for the I-5 adventure, was to show support for my friend, whose birthday was yesterday. The court session turned out to be relatively brief, mostly five minutes for a member of the opposite party (legal, not political), to speak her opinion, and to be gently admonished by the presiding judge, as to why that opinion has limited recourse. It appears the matter will be settled, for good, within the next few weeks.
After a slight bit of back and forth, on my part, I headed out in earnest, around 2:30, and passed the edge of our first monsoon shower, which seemed to mainly hit Prescott Valley and Chino. I encountered about 5 drops, whilst passing through Ash Fork, and entering I-40. Upon fueling up in Kingman, I found that extreme heat was going to be with me, for a while: 105-117. Sportage’s AC is equal to the task, and I was most comfortable. So it happened-clear across the Mojave Desert, to this small desert village, which has a modest level of services.
The motel is comfortable and clean. Light bulbs are something of a problem, but I was given a room with lights that work nicely. There is no WiFi, but I have that covered, having worked through the Hot Spot scene, last month at Bellemont. So here I am, close to Barstow, from whence the drive through Central Valley will begin.
Ludlow, at least for tonight, is King of the Mojave.
May 19, 2023- The two little guys were ecstatic, running about next door, in their raincoats and boots, under their stepmother’s watchful eyes. The rain came down in buckets, for the fourth day in a row, with more likely tomorrow morning. It is monsoon -like weather, in the midst of one of the two driest months in a normal Prescott climate. California has May Gray, June Gloom and July Fry. We now have the May-soon.
Not to worry, too much. The last ten days of May and most likely the entirety of June, our other super dry month, are expected to be warm and dry. My server at Zeke’s was surprised when I ordered coffee with my lunch today, but I assured her that iced tea will be finding its way in front of me, in very short order (no pun intended). We are all just glad for the break in the monotony and for the soothing rain it’s brought.
The kids, and their dogs, kept splashing in any available puddle until they had thoroughly soaked one another. I had no reason to go out, once back from lunch, so just sat by the window and enjoyed a reminder that some things never go out of fashion.
September 10, 2022- Today was the latest, in what seems to be a series of auspicious days. This began, this past Tuesday, with the passing of one of my last four surviving paternal aunts, continued Thursday with the passing of Queen Elizabeth II and today, a more cheerful celebration of my mother’s 94th birthday. I was able to sing her birthday greetings, via Face Time-and she liked my singing voice. That’s not a given. Had I sung off-key, I’d have heard about it. Mother has kept us each authentic, over the years.
It was just before starting a day of service, at the Tenth Annual Hope Fest, that this brief phone connection occurred. Hope Fest, for those not familiar, is a large in-person celebration of community service, modeled by the life of Jesus the Christ. So, my own service was basically “serving the servants”, doing whatever was requested by the organizers of the event. I am always a “floater”, going and doing tasks that range from driving back and forth to pick up items overlooked by the Event Director to stomping on excess ice (reminiscent of helping a neighbour of Greek descent stomp on his grapes, as a child). Being the volunteer not as well-known by the Director as her closer friends, I generally keep busy otherwise by finding things that need doing and getting them done.
Today’s event was similar to that of the first year-in that it was punctuated, and interrupted three times, by heavy rain. The first downpour occurred at lunch time, pre-empting the opening ceremony, which is usually a welcome by the Mayor of Prescott and a group photo. The second was in mid-afternoon,just before one of the musical guests was to perform. The third was in late afternoon, and was accompanied by thunder & lightning. The intensity of that downpour led the electronics director, and the scheduled headliner band, to cancel the evening’s performance.
I think it is a good thing that those in charge have a deeply spiritual vision, These, especially the last one, seemed to be cosmic downpours, perhaps testing the mettle of the participants and audience. They did not seem to dampen anyone’s spirits, and those arriving in anticipation of the evening concert were quite accepting of the cancellation, and grateful that the safety of the band and the sound crew were prioritized. The concert artist, who usually paints energetically, in accompaniment to the music, went about her work with only the music in her head to guide her. She is magnificent, in and of herself.
It was a warm rain, and even the young children who were momentarily caught in it were delighted. The monsoon season itself is winding down, and is expected to mostly finish by this coming Tuesday, with a chance for one last sprinkle to accompany the Autumnal Equinox. The Cosmos has been kind to the Southwest, in terms of rain, this summer. Now, we look to whatever lies ahead for Fall.
August 31, 2022, Kayenta- I looked at the normally dry Red Lake, about fifty miles southwest of here, and was amazed to see it full! Traffic and lack of a safe place to pull off kept me from photographing the scene, but seasonal lakes are a definite joy to behold.
I am here, on the way to southern Colorado, and the Colorado East Baha’i Summer School, to which I was invited a month or so ago. There are always numerous visual delights on this route, US Highway 160, which starts near Tuba City and continues eastward, to near Poplar Bluff, Missouri. I have been on the route, as far east as Pittsburg, Kansas.
The Badlands, grasslands and Hoodoo country, from Cameron, AZ to the Ute town of Towaoc, Colorado seem energized and rejuvenated by this year’s specially productive monsoon rains. Even those areas normally devoid of vegetation are showing a certain lively energy. The sandy wonderland that is Monument Valley finds its southwestern terminus here, in this small but vibrant Dineh community. So, I have stopped here for the evening, as being among Dineh people has augured well for me, at the start of any journey-whether within the Southwest or transcontinental.
Monument Valley is a sea of sand, but what marvels that sand has helped create, with help from wind and water! I will begin tomorrow with a few photos and meditations of joy.
July 28, 2022- There was plenty of water given us today. The showers were fairly steady, with just enough of a break that I got to take Saturn in for its “welcome back” oil & lube, with a brake light and wipers replaced. Everything else looks good.
The phone calls were also heavy at times. Someone from Indonesia is trying to get my attention-and probably some of my $, but neither is forthcoming. The delete button works just fine. The calls that mattered-pertaining to Saturn’s body work, all came today. The job will be done on August 10-12. I will have a rental at my disposal, courtesy of Erie Insurance Co. That’s good, because I, too, will be on assignment for ten days and the school is eight miles to the northeast of here.
I am not as heavy as I was a few weeks ago, so there may be something to the concoction I put together, that is loosely based on the video I watched last week, and more in keeping with the directions from the herbalist I consulted here and the directions on the bottles. Many of us are heavy at times, and while that is neither inherently good or bad, each person does well to keep personal health in mind.
The affairs of the day were also heavy at times. It helps to bear in mind that we are experiencing the gradual fading of old ways of doing things, which are based on exclusivity, elitism and a zero sum mentality, at the same time that a more inclusive, equanimical and abundance-based system is slowly, but steadily, rising. Any attempt to ignore a group of people, or deprive them of their due, will fall flat, even if it appears to succeed, by fits and starts. I am specifically referring to the move against providing care for military veterans who have been injured by toxic chemicals or by burn pits, while in a combat theater.
August 1, 2021- This is normally the hottest month of the year, even here in Arizona, where people expect heat, much of the time. This year’s monsoon, though, is more active than those of the last three years and there has been rain reported here in Prescott, just about every day since Independence Day-so Mother Nature heeded the fireworks. I will go tomorrow, with my hiking buddy, to Watson Lake and see how much the water levels have been affected by the rather generous precipitation.
Rain often comes during this time, in fits and starts. It could be dry for as long as two weeks, then rainy for almost as many days, and back to dry. My energy level tends to be the same, varying with the heat index, as one would expect. With the added vigilance about sun exposure, especially safeguarding the “little bit of heaven” on the left side of my face, I will limit the hike and other outside activity to an hour or less at a time-and be well protected.
August is saddled with the sobriquet, “Dog Days”, as this is the time of year when dogs are especially either enervated or aggravated by the heat and humidity. School starts up tomorrow, but as I have said earlier, my presence there this year will be limited somewhat-with more of an emphasis on Red Cross activities-if the powers that be in the local organization see fit to have me along to help out.
June 30, 2021- No, this isn’t about Joe Biden. The things that happened in tandem today were a good stretch of fairly heavy rain and the eighth anniversary of the fire which killed 19 wildland firefighters, in Yarnell, AZ. The rain hit our area quite well, making a small dent in the dryness of the soil. It’ll take far more to reverse the lack of moisture that has marked the last two summers. I do hope that it helped to quench some of the fires that have ravaged much of our state, these past two months.
There was intermittent rain, as I drove out to Yarnell, to attend the dedication of a town park, constructed in honour of the 19 men. The grandfather of one of the fallen is a man with whom I worked for several years, in the western suburbs of Phoenix. He has since relocated to the Yarnell area and is a driving force behind this memorial. I also know family members of three others among the Granite Mountain Hot Shots who died that day. In each case, there have been shrines and memorial sites built, both on private land and as part of a State Park, which lies seven miles south of Yarnell, and which I have visited twice.
Here are some scenes from the heartwarming ceremony that took place this afternoon and of a private shrine, built by a couple who lost their house that day, and have since refurbished another fine residence, to include a chapel dedicated to the firefighters.
Entrance to memorial park, YarnellEighth Commemoration of the Yarnell Hill TragedyKoi pond, at the Chapel of 19 Bells, YarnellThe Chapel of 19 Bells, Yarnell
This day, marking the halfway point of any given year, thus will ever have its own indelible significance.
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A Sagittarian Seeker 