Seeing Red – Autumn is Coming!

Posted on September 8, 2012 by The Retiring Sort

On the weekends, my beloved and I try to take at least one nice long walk together (meaning more than just to the end of the street and back.)  We’ve been doing 3- to 6- mile stretches, most often on some local tree-lined trails. Last week, everything was still mostly green, with a little yellow and brown mixed in, because it’s been a fairly dry Summer.

This past week we had some heavy rains, a break in the temperature, and some winds. When we hit the trail this morning, we noticed a new color in the palette – red.  First, we noticed a few leaves and grasses had changed:

Then we saw whole plants that were turning red:

Even some of the mushrooms and toadstools have taken on a reddish hue!

When we got home, I checked the Burning Bush trees  on either side of my lawn – and sure enough, they’re starting to turn as well!

But the best red I saw all day was our hummingbird feeders. Autumn may be coming, but the hummingbirds haven’t migrated yet!  They were out on our porch all afternoon!

Click on the photos above to see larger versions, or enjoy the slideshow below:

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This post was written in response to a Travel Theme challenge from Ailsa at wheresmybackpack. This week’s theme is Red.  To see what makes other bloggers see red, click here.

Posted in Photo Challenges | 47 Comments

Weekly Photo Challenge: Near and Far

Posted on September 7, 2012 by The Retiring Sort

It was on a whim that I stuck my head into a castle cannon battery hole, and took a quick shot of one of my favorite places – Edinburgh’s Old Town. I didn’t realize until later how much there was to see.

From the Half Moon Battery in Edinburgh Castle, the nearby parade field at lett contains bleachers for the upcoming annual Military Tattoo.   The road is the Royal Mile from the Castle east to the Palace at Holyrood, the official royal residence in Scotland. In the distance to the right is hilly Holyrood Park, with the Salisbury Crags, and Arthur’s Seat (the high point).  Beyond Holyrood Park is the Firth of Forth, the bay leading to the North Sea – and to northern Europe beyond!

Closer to home, I took this one while paddling on the Delaware River last year with the annual Soujorn. The front of our rented tandem kayak and my grandson are in the foreground, some other sojourners paddling south into the wonderful curves of the river are visible out into the distance.

There’s always something more to see!

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This post is in response to a Weekly Photo Challenge from the WordPress Daily Post. The challenge topic for this week is Near and Far.  To learn more about the challenge, or to see other near-far entries, click here.

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The Comforting Curves of Arches

Posted on September 3, 2012 by The Retiring Sort

Arches have been used in buildings and gateways for thousands of years. The shape is dramatic and pleasing, and also serves to span open spaces and to bear weight.  Whether it’s the Coliseum in Rome or a small bridge over a creek, we love these sweeping curves.

For my money, no place makes much lovelier use of archways than the Stanford University campus.

The quad is full of them, and Memorial Church on the campus echoes that style and form.

Memorial Church was started in the 1890’s, and finished in 1903. In 1906, the great San Francisco earthquake shook the campus, destroying the clock tower and north face of the church, as well as the Memorial Arch leading to them.

The clock tower wasn’t rebuilt, but by 1917, the church had been completely restored from original plans – including the many mosaics and Frederick Lamb stained glass windows. After the 1989 earthquake, repairs had to be done again – and “MemChu” reopened in 1993.

Walking along the Stanford Quad, with its tile roofs and arched colonnades, I’ve often felt as if I were in some Medterranean location – I think it has some really lovely curves.

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Click on photos to see larger versions.

This post was written in response to a Travel Theme challenge from Ailsa at wheresmybackpack. This week’s theme is Curves.  To see what curves other bloggers have thrown, click here.

Posted in Photo Challenges, Travelogues | Tagged , , , , | 28 Comments

Cultivating a Disciplined Free Spirit

Posted on September 1, 2012 by The Retiring Sort

Is it responsible to be a truly free spirit? Flying like a kite, mindless of anything but the currents that carry us to the next adventure? Even a kite is tethered to a string. Without the resistance pulling on that string provides, the kite wouldn’t sail half as high.

I always love it when I have all of my children and grandchildren together. For a number of years, Easter has been one of those times. We all went to the Philadelphia area to see my mother and celebrate the holiday with her, my sister and her family, and my husband’s twin brother.  We enjoyed meals, giggling, walks to our favorite chocolate shop, and some kite flying last year.

Having four generations together made for some fascinating observations. The great-grandchildren always gravitated to my mother – not because they were prodded to, but because she was a kindred, free spirit, and they recognized that. Children, for the most part, say what they think, imagine freely, and show their emotions spontaneously. My mother still had those qualities in abundance, but in adult company, she was somewhat more restrained.

Fortunately for my mom, she had a career (writing) that allowed her to scratch her creative itch and get paid for it. But as an editor, she also had to manage budgets and personnel, and make sometimes unpopular decisions. When did she learn to think a little before she spoke?  When did she understand that she had a responsibility to others as well as to herself?

Our parents taught us to be ourselves, but mindful of others. We were allowed to make a huge papier-maché mess in the play room, for example – but never to say hurtful things to one another.  Mom and Dad encouraged our love of words and music, our sports ventures, supported our every performance and treasured every handcraft.  But they also had expectations.

How much do you rein in children who are truly free spirits, whose minds are racing and whose enthusiasm is contagious? Hopefully enough to keep them from getting caught in a kite-eating tree, and with enough support to help them soar. Guarding against climbing too high into danger, but allowing enough experimentation to learn individual limitations and strengths.  And letting go a little with each year.

A parent’s toughest assignment is letting out that string a little at a time. We never really let go, and each time that kite takes a dip, so do our hearts. Still, we do our best to send our children and their free spirits soaring, on a proverbial wing, and a prayer.

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This post is in response to a Weekly Photo Challenge from the WordPress Daily Post. The challenge topic for this week is Free Spirit.  To learn more about the challenge, or to see other spirited entries, click here

Posted in Photo Challenges, Ruminations | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 54 Comments

The Heart of the Highlands

Posted on September 1, 2012 by The Retiring Sort
O ye’ll tak’ the high road,    
And I’ll tak’ the low road,        
And I’ll be in Scotland afore ye…¹
 

For my monthly travelogue, I’ll finish up our 2010 trip to Britain with our visit to the Scottish Highlands. We made Edinburgh our base in Scotland, favoring historic sites over family ones (our family is from Glasgow and Renfrew.) We started our “hieland” trip from there.

Because our time was limited, we gave our niece her choice of highland tours, and she chose one that included a cruise of Loch Ness.  She chose well – the guide on our tour had a magical, musical brogue, and shared the history of each area with humorous and wonderful stories. In most countries we would have rented a car, but in Britain, with the lanes reversed, we were happy to leave the driving to the tour company!

Rannoch Moor

We left Edinburgh early in the morning, and headed northwest toward the Great Glen (Valley). The Great Glen is a fault line that runs from Oban (on the Firth of Lorne and the Irish sea), to Inverness (on the Firth of Moray and the North Sea.) It cuts a diagonal slash right through the middle of Scotland, and is dotted with lochs (lakes) left by ancient glaciers. The lochs are linked by the Caledonia Canal, which was built as a commercial inland waterway between the two seas.  It’s not really used for commerce anymore, but like many other parts of the Glen, it now affords some wonderful recreational opportunities!

Hairy Coos!

To reach the highlands from the lowland cities, we first had to cross the Trossachs.  The scrub grasses and heather on Rannoch Moor support only hearty breeds like sheep and long-haired highland cattle, fondly known as the hieland hairy coos (cows).  We enjoyed miles of beautiful scenery as we crossed the country from east to west through the Trossachs region.

We pulled off the highway at Glencoe (the Valley of Tears). The “tears” are springs of water forming tiny waterfalls. The name took on a second meaning when, in 1692, a group from Clan Campbell allied with the English king, slaughtered the MacDonalds of Glencoe in the valley. Having sought the hospitality of the MacDonalds on a winter’s night, the Campbells killed them as they slept. Some MacDonalds escaped up the sides of the mountain, many freezing to death.   A piper often plays at the foot of the glen in memory of those lost in the “Glencoe Massacre.”  (I apologize to those of you who may have read this story in a past challenge post – I just had to tell it again.)

                           

Ben Nevis

As we reached Loch Linnhe near the bottom of the Great Glen, we turned north to follow the fault, passing Fort William and Ben (Mount) Nevis on our way.

We were in the highlands!

Ben Nevis is only 4,409 feet high, but it’s the highest point in Britain. It seems like that should make an “easy climb” for hikers and climbers, but it’s treacherous because of fog and ice that make the trails difficult to navigate as the day goes on.

Commando Memorial

We proceeded up the Glen past the Commando Memorial, dedicated to the British Commando Forces in World War II. From there, we passed Loch Lochy and Loch Oich on our way to Fort Augustus at the foot of Loch Ness.

Here, we boarded a boat for an hour-long cruise up the loch in search of “Nessy,” the legendary Loch Ness monster, and heard much of the folklore surrounding the lake.

Piece of peat

Loch Ness is deep, and the water is murky black from all of the peat runoff from the hills around it. Divers who have gone in search of the beast can’t see more than a few inches. However, boats with sonar (including ours) have discovered what they believe are eels as long as a school bus in the depths of the lake. So maybe there is a Nessy!

After our cruise, we wound our way up the loch, stopping for a view of the ruins of Urquhart Castle before moving on to Inverness (mouth of the Ness.) This is the northernmost point of the Great Glen, on the Moray Firth (Bay), which empties into the North Sea.

As we left Inverness, we started our southeast trek back to Edinburgh. We passed the Cairngorms (a mountain range with good skiing, we were told), and the ruins of Ruthven Barracks, built on the site of an old castle. These barracks, and several others, were built around 1721 by the English after the Jacobite uprisings, as a fortified presence to regulate the highlanders. At one time the complex housed 120 British soldiers.

Dalwhinnie

We drove past the Dalwhinnie Distillery, which produces a lovely smooth Scotch, then continued on, stopping in the charming town of Pitlochry for a scone and a cup of coffee.

We got back on the road and continued on past Perth, and on this long leg of the drive, thoroughly enjoyed the colorful stories our guide told. He had us in stitches, making the trip go quickly and painlessly!

Finally, we crossed the First of Forth and headed back to Edinburgh. From our vehicle bridge we could see the Forth Bridge, a railroad bridge, finished in 1890. It’s still studied as an engineering accomplishment today because of the length of its cantilevered span.

A long, wonderful day, filled with beautiful scenery and enchanting, dramatic history. And yet, there’s still so much more to see. We’ll save Culloden Moor, Loch Lomond, and Scone Castle for our next trip!

¹ Old Scottish song, On the Bonnie Banks of Loch Lomond

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The Elusive Sounds of Silence

Posted on August 29, 2012 by The Retiring Sort
“To sleep, perchance to dream – ay, there’s the rub…”¹

Oh, Will, you have no idea.

We all know that sleep is a necessary thing. Adults should get seven to nine hours of sleep each night for optimum physical and mental health. Sleep is when we recover, rebuild, reboot.

What kind of sleeper are you?  Do you fall asleep in front of the television, bathing in light and sound? Do you need the sounds of city streets to sing you to sleep? Or, like me, do you prefer cave-like quiet and darkness to put your mind at peaceful rest?

I’m a sound sleeper, once I succumb – but until I fall asleep, any distraction will chase the sandman away.  I don’t know why, but it’s always been that way. I cover my eyes to keep the light out, and I even have several masks for that very purpose – during a full moon, I always use one. My family giggles.

But noise is something else.

You’d think since I live out in the boonies –  in the middle of the woods, really – that noise wouldn’t be problem for me. In the winter, it’s not too bad. The crickets and tree frogs, raccoons and foxes, birds and coyotes, all hunker down somewhere deep in the forest. In the winter, with the trees bare, the only night sounds I hear are the humming wheels of trucks, singing on the highway a mile or so away.  (Really, I kid you not, I hear this stuff).

The rest of the year, it’s another story. Wind rustles the leaves.  Critters talk to one another.  Owls, woodpeckers, and coyotes are noisy. When the roaming coyotes are in our corner of the forest, I’ll hear one call to the others – I call that one Scout.  After his series of “hoo-hoo-hoo-hooooo” calls, the pack gives chase, barking. Then it gets quiet, which is momentarily worse than the howls.

On an average New England woodland evening, though, it’s the smaller beasties who annoy at bedtime.  A fox or raccoon will communicate with its young, or vice versa. Tree frogs actually seem to serenade their sweethearts, and crickets – well, you probably know about crickets.  Cats and dogs are about the only animals not at issue here, because their people don’t leave them out at night. And as far as I know, the deer and the rabbits are mute.

The absolutely worst season is Spring. Every little living thing is mating, and this apparently requires a great deal of singing, chirping, and bouncing in tree branches. Everything comes alive in the spring, and as the tree sap starts to flow, robins gather to gossip and munch on grubs or worms as the morning sun  creeps over the horizon. Other birds call to one another across our back yard (I suspect about getting the band back together.) The adorable woodpeckers busy themselves pulling insects from under tree bark using their heads as jackhammers.  I wake with the sun.

On one of his visits, my little grandson suggested I use his sound machine for “white noise.” The idea here is that the machine makes a repetitive or neutral sound that will block out offending noises, thereby allowing sleep to fall over the insomniac. Sort of the anti-lullaby. (The air conditioner does more or less the same thing.)

The handy device in question doubles as an alarm clock (another light in the room) and has six sound options. Each recording has something in it that seems counter-productive to me. For example, the lovely beach setting with the soft sounds of surf on sand is interrupted every minute or so by screeching seagulls. Why?

Sleeping Emergency Kit:                        Mask and Earplugs

There are recordings (some as long as ten hours) available for sale, or for download from You Tube – who knew?  Some of those are very peaceful. But really, my beloved shouldn’t have to listen to waves or waterfalls all night just so I can fall asleep. I have earplugs for the busy nights in the community outside my window. Anyway, now that I’m retired, mask at the ready, I can take the occasional afternoon nap.

Things seem to settle down out there around noon.

Sweet dreams.

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This post was written in response to a Writing Challenge on the WordPress Daily Post. The theme for the week is The Sound of Blogging. To learn more about the challenge, or hear other bloggers’ responses, click here.

Related posts and sound videos:

Posted in Ruminations, Writing Challenges | Tagged , , , , | 18 Comments