Humble Gratitude

It isn't often that one is rendered speechless, to tears, or experiences spontaneous, surprised laughter. Some act, some vision, music or song, painting or speech, literary genius or the perfect joke...something, or some one's actions, brings you to your knees or is so overwhelmingly unexpected that it changes you forever. It just comes to you, this thing, like a wave washing up the sand.

Twice this week it happened to me. This is one of the stories.

I was drawn to Randy J. Cole's blog merely by its name, "Random Stone." Anything having to do with stones automatically has my attention so I clicked to link to it. There, I became totally immersed in Randy's writing, poetry and art. To this day I am entertained there, or enlightened there, or amazed there. His talent for telling stories is remarkable. He draws me in every time.

Over time through comments and visits back and forth we have forged a nice relationship built on respect. I know the "why" of Random Stone and he knows the "why" of Giraffe Head Tree, the names of our blogs. Sometimes we e-mail back and forth depending on the situation.

We were doing that earlier this week. I'd asked for his permission to use one of his poems. We chatted back and forth a little and that was that. Some time passed and out of the blue comes an e-mail from Randy. In his usual humble fashion Randy said something akin to 'here's this thing you can do with it anything you like.' Not those words but that was the sentiment.

Randy J. Cole had written a poem about the Giraffe Head Tree.

I opened the attachment and was met by the poem you read above. Reading it rendered me speechless, but I laughed with glee and tears welled up in my eyes. I must have read it 50 times in a row before I could move. This gift was unexpected and absolutely perfect and oh, so timely. I created the little graphic with Randy's poem - word for word - and placed it atop a close-up of the Giraffe Head Tree's bark for everyone to see.

You know how blustery, gray, rainy days end and the sun burns through the center,melting the clouds away and a rainbow forms? That's how my soul felt as I read his poem, this gift.

Thank you, Randy J. Cole.

Meditations

American Coots

This is the second year that my friend, Carroll, and I have taken a drive to northwest Alabama in search of bald eagles. They do nest there, and the last I recall reading about their numbers there were up to 50 couples residing in the wild, rolling multi-clayed cliftsides of Waterloo and Pickwick Lake. This area is extremely isolated and Pickwick Lake, part of the rambling Tennessee River system, has gravelly shores perfect for eagle picnics.

Carroll and I decided "on the fly" to stop first at the North Alabama Birding Trail lookout point off the Natchez Trace. There we observed the American Coot Convention body-surfing on roiling waves kicked up by gusting 20mph winds. Very cold gusting 20mph winds, I might add. Barges lumbered silently by while we watched the coots bob in the waves and a gaggle of what appeared to be scaups float way out in the river channel. However, there were no eagles to be spotted. Our patience spent, we placed our cameras back in the car and continued our journey toward Waterloo.

Exposed Sycamore Tree Roots - very cool!

Right before the bridge leading into Waterloo we hung a right onto Highway #1 and slowly drove north deeper into eagle nesting country. We knew of a nest there, and we also knew that recent storms hit this area hard. Checking the status of the nest was critical to us, but first...we had to find it. Eventually, we saw it high in its tree seemingly all together and whole. No eagles sat upon it, no eaglets called for food. We heard no eagles above us, we saw no eagles flying around or fishing. This was not good.

Walking around the roadway, we had to dodge huge lumber trucks and ducked when two small lear jets dipped low over the area. Odd. The water was way down and very muddy from the storms, and the chop was fierce. Fishing must not be good for eagles in these conditions. We ate our lunch in the protection of my car, watched yet more coots and the ubiquitious seagulls and herons....but no eagles. Driving through this area beside the water damage from storms is obvious. Trees have been leveled but left for the wildlife by watershed teams, as it should be. We entertained ourselves briefly walking along the shoreline but it was too chilly and windy to really enjoy the moment.

Again, our patience was stretched thin. Strong, frigid, gusting winds making our eyes tear and numbed our ear lobes and noses and fingers, but no eagles. Just coots. Lots and lots of coots. We bid a silent goodbye to the hidden eagles and turned back for the last stop of the day - Wilson Dam.

Wilson Dam has a beautiful park with walking trails on the low side of the dam. There, one can usually spy eagles perched high on the clifts watching for fishes below. Today, the waterfalls are terrific thanks to recent rains. We watched chickadees dart among the cliftside foliage. We saw cormorants and seagulls but once again we are disappointed by our eagles. No sightings. Nothing.

Carroll attended an Eagle Awareness Week jaunt several years ago, and this was our second try of these same areas. Sadly, every year we have been disappointed. Next year we are abandoning Waterloo and traveling to another chosen spot. We were so excited after reading Jodi's blog (Bloomingwriter) about her eagle spotting trip - we just knew this was going to be our year....but no.

However, what was lost in eagle sightings we gained in meditations. We had a lovely day together in the sunshine and winds and nature, and enjoyed long periods of companionable silences that only good friends can share. Road trips are my meditations, and good friends are balms to my soul. We had sandwiches while jammed in the front of my Subaru while listening to Dave Matthews Band, laughed at our red noses during lengthy walks on windswept, misty shorelines, and chuckled at our silliness calling out "Here Eagle, Eagle, Eagle!" to the heavens. (...to no avail)

At the end of our trip we stood beside these beautiful, roaring waterfalls and tipped our faces into the icy mist that floated in the air, relishing our freedom and friendship. Road trips are my meditation.

It's a Brand New Day

This morning I was greeted via e-mail by an old friend far away who I've never met. Strange isn't it, how in this day of blogging and websites and chat rooms we can make friends and receive joy from them daily, talk of achingly familiar subjects, and share photos of family and friends and over time true friendships form? Not strange at all in my personal experience. Conversely, I think it a marvelous way to expand my horizons and experience the world, learn about new cultures, marvel at different insights and enjoy new lands.

I belong to several fan club websites, but one in particular talks to my soul and is where I have cultivated deep friendships. Sting's music is my passion, and as all of us say in the Stingdom, Sting's music has been the soundtrack of my life. Sting himself is an interesting person, and his life has shaped his thoughts and energies into some of the most complex and beautiful music I've ever heard.

Well, one of my Stingdom pals has created a blogspot here and I couldn't be more thrilled! Please visit Inside Island of Souls and say HELLO! (There's a link to the right) Her blog's name is the leading song's title from Sting's incredible CD, "Soul Cages."

Okay, hang in here with my odd early morning epiphany: Where I live on this beautiful lake I can watch the sunrises, but sunsets evade my sight due to the house that juts out to our west. I see the top and northern side occasionally and know when it's glorious, but all I get to see from my window are the sunset's effects on the lake. My neighbors get The Grand Show, but I get to see the ripple effect. At first this annoyed me. However, take a look at the photo above. The sunset was a riot of colors thanks to storm clouds. While neighbors were enjoying the show my house became filled with a vivid, soft (yes, there is such a thing) pinkish golden light that washed everything in an ethereal glow. Watching my own show gave rise to the epiphany - and that is simply that true artists who seem larger than life, like Sting (sunset), creates through their art a unique and beautiful blend of elements that include people with like minds from different cultures -the eastern view. Hm, I'm not getting my entire point across but I'm running out of time being here. It's almost time to drive the daughter to school so please meditate if you so choose, come to your own conclusion and perhaps you can come up with a better way to say what I'm struggling to this morning.

That's awfully deep this early since I haven't yet finished my second cup of coffee. However, I welcome my friend to this blogging world and am overjoyed to be able to communicate with her in yet one more way. Welcome Patti!