Let It Snow

Today I went to the chiropracter and then for a hike.  I've been going for the hikes most days for a week and a half all twisted up.  Today I was able to get out of the car and stand up straight right away.  Felt good.  This is the first time I've gone to a chiropractor and walked out feeling better rather than worse.  But since the last time I went I had an infection that no chiropractor had any hope of dealing with, I'd say I'm batting 1000 with the "alternate care" crowd.
The other day I went up Beus Canyon and was lamenting the fact that most of the leaves had blown down.  I could see storm clouds massing in the West and the day had "winter" written all over it.  It made me melancholy; not because I dislike winter, but because I felt I had hardly noticed summer and autumn fly by.
Today the snow had already dusted Coldwater Canyon and nearly every tree was bare and there was no color from the leaves on the ground either.  (Except from one defiant Maple that still held a few bright leaves and was spread about by a carpet so yellow it almost shouted.)  I thought about November, and the snows that will surely come next month and be the last to melt next spring.  I remembered the bare trees piled high with fluffy snow crystals that sparkle in the sun and decided to make peace with the turning of the year.  Winter is also a perfect time to take a tramp through the woods.  Every day is a perfect day if we let it be so.
The only thing you can accomplish by pining away for spring is to miss the glory of winter.

Taking Time

I haven't really made a goal of posting to my blog(s) at any certain rate and so I don't feel guilty about the Sept. 23 reminder I got when I logged onto this one.  Nor am I wracked with guilt when I consider that this was the last of the three I own that I gave any attention to.  I've been busy with good things.  Actually I've been spending lots of time with someone else's blog lately.  Actually it's the only thing I've even blogged about for the past couple of months.  I'm really taken with the subject of focus.  At 53 I'm aware that my life is not going to last long enough for me to explore every topic or item that captures my mind.  And my mind is easily captured.  When I took the Gallup "Strength Finder" survey, (you can get a code to take it by buying a copy of the book: "Now Discover Your Strengths" by Markus Buckingham of Gallup.  The survey returns a list and description of your top five talents.  Three of my top five "talents" involve vacuuming up information and churning it around in my mind.  I can see how they can be called talents, but May West wasn't right about everything when she said "Too much of a good thing can be wonderful!"  I'm at a point in my life where I really have to learn to focus.  And I've kind of fallen in love with the topic lately.
One of the best things I've found to help me stay on track is to be jealous of my hour in the wilderness each day.  Since I've made my walk a priority I've not only lost nearly 10 pounds in less than a month, I've learned to quiet my mind.  When I'm able to stop the constant internal chatter I've found that the more important things in my life bob to the top of the mind pool and I'm able to get clear on priorities. 
Ironically it's made me busier than I've ever been.  By committing myself to meaningful accomplishment in just a few, most important things I find I am unable to "drift" through life by touching a million other things lightly; going from one to the other without actually accomplishing anything tangible with any of them.  Such a course gives the illusion of being busy but doesn't allow me to get deep enough into any of them to do anything meaningful with them.

So taking an hour out of a busy day is another irony.  My best ideas come during my walk.  My mind is recharged and I get into my car at the end with a quiet resolve to make the most of the rest of the day.  Also I see truly stupendous displays of nature. 
This one is of what I like to call "micro vistas".  Beus Canyon is just a little defile in the face of Mt. Ogden with a great little perennial stream running down it.  It's an absolute oasis in the summer; cool, shady and filled with little pockets of wonder like this.  There are no grand panoramas to be seen, but if you're willing to look small, you'll see beauty unsurpassed in small scale, anywhere on planet earth.
The bottom picture is of a certain Maple tree near the bottom of the trail.  I've never seen a brighter one and while this one seems to be a bit brighter than its neighbors every year, this year it really outdid itself.  Take a walk in the early evening and be amazed.  This kind of fire can't last many more days.