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13 January ~2008

I worked hard last week - over ten hours overtime on my first week back from Christmas leave.  Mostly it was because I am on a new project that is just plain interesting.  Today, Sunday, I was going over in my head what I will do first thing in the morning, and am actually looking forward to it. (Monday morning).  I am good at what I do because I have a passion for it.

The question as I lied in bed this morning was  how to spend my Sunday, since I had nothing planned.  Church was out of the question for two reasons, the first being that I have never understood why people want to go sit inside a building and listen to someone talk when they could be outside experiencing God's creation.  

The second reason is that  I havent gone since the days I was first married. Back then my gorgeous young wife and I used to walk to the small baptist church across the street and listen to the preacher's quirky sermons.  I liked him though, and to this day I respect his faith.  

The preacher was a hard worker.  I remember seeing him leave in the morning to walk to his odd jobs at the local farms and ranches.  He  also had a down to earth frame of mind  (one of the highest qualities for any person, in my opinion), and he told us stories of his fishing trips down in the Gunnison Gorge, which was just a few miles away.

It wasn't long before my wife and I were hiking down there to do some fishing.  On one of the times Janet was with me I caught the largest trout ever down there - a very fat 22 inch Rainbow.  On the way back up the hill I pushed on her lower back to make the climb a little easier for her.

I was deeply in love with her, and the effects of it linger still. It is enough to make me awful satisfied with my life, even though I am alone now.

I like to scan old photos when I am home at Christmas, and came across this one I took in 1976 of her.  What a beauty.

Back to the question of my Sunday plans though.  I wanted to do something special with Ben and Maggie, because they wait for me faithfully while I am at work.  I thought of several things - walk along the Platte, climb North Table Mountain, but the one that seemed the best was the Greenbelt, and that is where we went.

 I stopped now and again to pay attention to how quiet and peaceful it was today, and  pulled out my harmonica and played amazing grace, sweet betsey from pike,  red river valley, sweet hour of prayer.

We took our time, and the beauty and sense of home down there made me understand why this is where I felt like going today.  Walking through those groves of cottonwoods imparts a very clear and definite peace to my life.  The trees feel like dear friends, which of course they have become in the twenty plus years I have been wandering around down there.

A fox came out of the cattails and scurried across the frozen lake, which entertained Ben and Maggie.  It may have been the same one that screamed near us last week, establishing his territory, and hoping to attract a mate.

The base of the north ridge is in frozen shade from mid November to mid February.  I found when you stand at the point where the sun just barely peeks through the trees at the ridge's crest, a soft light is cast over the snow and cattails down below.   Ice crystals sparkled in the glow,  and the sight of it plus the knowing that I slowed enough to notice gave me a sense of being very rich and very blessed.


Saturday night I went to a swing dance at the Boulder Avalon, since the Grizzly Rose was having a concert and it would be packed and there would be no dancing.   I almost felt obligated to go, so as not to spend the entire weekend in solitude.  It was ok, but not that much fun.  It didn't have the passion and wild excitement of those Saturday's at the Rose.

The last  time I danced at the Avalon was on November 30th at a waltz dance.  At the end of one of the dances my friend of several years kissed me on the cheek, which was nice, since I don't get many kisses anymore. (except by Ben and Maggie).

A few weeks later I heard my friend had been diagnosed with  serious heart problems.  I went to the hospital to see her, but found she had been discharged two days earlier.  I was thinking that was a good news, that she was at home.    I then found out she had been transferred to the Mayo clinic, where she is awaiting a heart transplant.

She has access to a computer once in a while there, and we have exchanged a couple of emails, which is very good because it gave me the opportunity to tell her what her friendship has meant to me.

She is a special person with a simple nature, one of those people who only has kindness and understanding within her. Friends like Claire are like gold.   I am praying things turn out well with her, and that I will see her again.

It all  makes you realize what is important, and how much we need to stay aware of the beauty and joy in each day, because we never know when it will all change.  All that is certain is that it will, for each of us.

(to see a 700 pixel wide image of the above collage, click here; to see a 1400 wide pixel image of the above picture, click here.)