Author: cometsgirl

I have described flying as “sitting in a chair in the sky”, or “being inside a metal tube”.  Here’s another option: “hurling through the atmosphere in a giant metal can at 35,000 feet”.  In the article where I read this description, what followed was  “…is now one of the safest ways to travel”. Well, I guess so.

Today I hurtle toward Dallas, TX – Dallas-Fort Worth International Airport where the next time I take my seat in the chair in the sky, I will be on a non-stop flight to Reykjavik, Iceland. Traveling 3,737 airmiles for 9 hours, I’m likely to get a bit stir-crazy.  A bit likely to sleep some.  Very likely to be online.  Flying Icelandair brings with it free wi-fi from the moment you step onboard.  Whoo hoo!

It IS true that flying to DFW in order to fly to Iceland is a bit backwards.  However, Icelandair’s non-stop option makes sense, and lets us avoid the slog through JFK. The bonus is that Beth (who flew to DFW yesterday to visit family) and I will have dinner with my Texas son and his family tonight. Later we will settle into the Grand Hyatt Hotel at DFW for the flight to Reykjavík on Monday.  I understand a walk out the door of the hotel leads right to the TSA security entrance for the terminal. That’s convenient.

At last the time has come to depart.

Traveling mercies.

I’m headed far, far away–

The Faroe Islands, situated where the Atlantic Ocean meets the North Sea, is an archipelago of 18 mountainous islands located halfway between Iceland and Scotland.  Just a bit of history to “set the scene”:  The islands were first settled in year 300 AD, although no one knows by whom. The first known settlers, according to stories passed down through generations, were Irish monks in the sixth century.

The name Faroe Islands first appeared as Faereyjar (in approximately 1225), which means “Sheep Islands”. This presumably led to the national symbol, which is a ram. This name was given by the Viking age settlers from Norway in the ninth century.

Since 1948, the Faroe Islands have been a self-governing nation under the external sovereignty of the Kingdom of Denmark. The islands’ population of nearly 50,000 (along with 70,000 sheep) is spread out across the 17 inhabited islands, the 18th island being  uninhabited. The islands are connected by road tunnels, ferries, causeways and bridges. One of the islands requires a helicopter ride for the journey.

One flight a week from Reykjavik, Iceland to Vágar, Faroe Islands on Atlantic Airways brings visitors to the islands. And one flight a week returns visitors to Reykjavik.  An undersea tunnel connects Vágar Island with Streymore Island, where my destination, Tórshavn, is located. Tórshavn is the capital and largest city in the Faroe Islands with a population of 13,000. My lodging will be on Tórshavn, but I will venture out and about to some of the other islands.

I am soon to begin my journey to this far-away land. My departure is in 24 hours. Come along!

After having been home for a time, I’m now headed home.

I don’t really know how this family gathering could have been any better. Yes, you can go home again.

Awakening earlier than usual this morning, I wandered over to the ponds to await sunrise. The resident geese glided off to the far shore, creating streaks of white.

Walking across the grounds, listening to the geese muttering among themselves was so quieting for me. Generally when I awaken on a travel day I’m not stilled as I move toward the moment of take-off. This morning I was stilled within.

Today carried with it the sadness of this special family gathering coming to an end.

The pale pink of dawn reflected in the water helped cover the sad.

As I continued my walk, the day awakened. With it my gratitude for having my siblings to accompany me through 70+ decades of life.

Aspen trees are part of my pleasure in growing up in Colorado. I love their color, their sound as they “quake” in the wind. The bark of the aspen has a soft feel. Each time I walked between cabins I reached over to one aspen in particular and just stopped and rested in the moment of touch.

With the full light of day it was time to depart.

We three gathered for a sibling photo reflecting one so long ago.

Until we meet again.

Traveling mercies.

While the impetus for this trip was to celebrate the 75th birthday of my sister and brother, my sister-in-law’s birthday is today.

Everyone greeted her this morning with song.

Then we went on a hike. About 6 miles from the cabins is the trailhead for The Colorado Trail. It was a perfect choice from the standpoint of elevation gain, hiking at an elevation of over 10,500′, and our oldering status. It’s an in and out trail, and we were on the trail around two hours. It was glorious!

The wind blowing through the trees made a kind of music.

Afternoon was time for relaxation, conversation, and reflection. About our lives decades ago. And now.

We were here long enough to have a favorite coffee house, City on the Hill Coffee and Espresso, and a favorite restaurant, Tennessee Pass Cafe.

After dinner we returned to the cabins for ice cream and gifts. The birthday celebrant declared it one of her best ever birthdays.

At the coffee house in town this morning, I spotted a young man in line whose shirt-back had a great message. I asked him if I could photograph his shirt and he was delighted to oblige.

I’m certain I was the reason for some smiles this day. I shall try to be a reason each day forward.

Leadville is proud of being two miles high in elevation, often comparing itself to the better known mile high city of Denver. Today we took a train ride on the restored Leadville Colorado and Southern Railroad. Climbing to 11,152′, the air was thin, the views magnificent, and the pleasure of our company a joyous time.

The ride was 2 1/2 hours, first pushed forward then pulled back by the engine. We chose an open car, riding along with “sunshine on our shoulders making us happy”.

Lyrics from the Weepies came to mind:

“All this beauty, you might have to close your eyes, and slowly open wide.”

And John Denver’s words:

“Colorado rocky mountain high
I’ve seen it raining fire in the sky
You can talk to God and listen to the casual reply
Rocky mountain high.”

This was a surprisingly entertaining adventure, helped enormously along by our legendary senses of humor.

After dinner….

driving the road home we were gifted with this sight,

The day drew to a close with lovely reflections both seen and spoken.

From W.S. Merwin’s poem Thanks

“Listen
with the night falling we are saying thank you
we are stopping on the bridges to bow from the railings
we are running out of the glass rooms
with our mouths full of food to look at the sky
and say thank you
we are standing by the water thanking it
standing by the windows looking out
in our directions…”

We scattered a bit this morning. Scattered in a good way. Three of us drove into Leadville for “real” coffee and quick shopping for cabin provisions.

Meanwhile two others took off to fish.

My sister and I opted for a road trip to Vail to see an art installation by the stick sculpture artist, Patrick Dougherty, installed at the Ford Botanical Gardens.

Having seen his installation in Highlands, NC, we were eager to see this one. Hodgepodge was created using several varieties of willow locally harvested. Dougherty was inspired both by Japanese square-shaped pottery and hedges He had seen.  The design includes sloping shoulders to shed snow. A practical consideration for this locale.

“Some of the individual elements lean;  some bend at the waist, falling into each other.  This is meant to suggest camaraderie and interdependence.” This seems to echo what we three families are experiencing these gathering days.

I brought a Colorado playlist I had made for our drive, so we sang along as we twisted and turned to Vail and back. We especially like to sing rather enthusiastically “I want to be a strong Colorado Woman, I don’t want to be a Mississippi girl…” from Caroline Herring’s Colorado Girl.

State Highway 24 was made for low-gear driving with lots of pull offs for photos.

Hear what I heard this day.

By mid-afternoon we had gathered back together for fellowship in the sharing of our scattered experiences. Reunions with my brother and sister are infrequent, so these daily reunions take on some significance and much pleasure.

A beautiful drive to Minturn for dinner, all squeezed into one car so as to be together for the vistas and conversations. Then as the day drew to a close, we gathered for a slide show of recent travel my brother and his wife (my other sister) had enjoyed, cruising the fjords of Norway. Stunning!

Day is done, gone the sun. Gone the sun, day is done.

For a time today, I thought to myself, “you can’t go home again”. Driving out of the Denver airport, then across Denver east to west, then up through the foothills was generally unpleasant. And unattractive. Just a slog.

Lots of weighed-down trucks crawling along the high altitude byways, substantial real estate development in place of wide open spaces, and no real stunning sights to be seen along the way.

It’s true I thought, you cannot go home again.

Then we turned onto Colorado State Highway 91.

Little traffic.

Stunning views.

Wide open spaces.

I’m in the High Rockies.

It’s true, home is much more than a vista. Yet for me that is where the tug on my heart begins. This place I am in this day reminds me of the places of my growing up years where I found contentment and safe-keeping. Places so vast all that was in me could escape.

My family was always “going to the mountains”. My sister and brother and I were free to roam in the early mornings during these trips. We explored and adventured endlessly.

Upon arriving at our cabins last night, it was time to explore once again. The cabin could wait. We were off to the ponds, to the river, to the soft light of dusk.

Then cabin settling in for the night.

Early morning rise for a walk around, espresso in town, and vistas that settle my soul

As Sara Groves sings, “It is well with my soul, it is well, it is well with my soul.”

And so this day, it is well with my soul.

10,152′ high should be about right for a big time birthday celebration.  The twins turned 75 earlier this year, and when deciding where we three families would gather to mark the milestone and celebrate together, it was a no-brainer.  COLORADO.

As I’ve said before, being a native Coloradoan is a big deal to me.

For my sister, it’s still home even though her residence is in another state.  She longs to be in Colorado.

For my brother, it’s a place that gave him a lifetime of the love of outdoors, and the activities associated with Colorado mountains in particular.

So we shall gather for a few days this coming week in cabins alongside the Eagle River just outside Leadville, Colorado.

We three spent much of every summer of our growing-up years either alongside, or near-by a river. And a fair amount of that time was wading up and down the river.  On the hunt for the wily adversary.

Generally speaking, being orphaned usually is thought of as happening to young children. We were orphaned later than usual, the twins at the age of 19, and I having just turned 21, and now considered an adult. It was tumultuous for a short time, then less so as we retreated into our respective college campuses. And then put it behind as we each created separate families and lived our lives.

That experience cemented a sibling relationship in ways that have carried us these many decades; apart by distance, but nearby through this particular shared experience, and through the shared experiences of the Colorado mountains….and because of our commitment to always be in relationship with each other.

Every time I have journeyed to Colorado it has been with anticipation of return, of first view of the Rockies, and eventually being wrapped “in” the Rockies of home. I’m in anticipation mode now.

Dr. Seuss says, “Today is your day. Your mountain is waiting. So…get on your way!”

And so I shall.  Traveling Mercies.

Today is my birthday.

For many years I have answered the phone on this day with “happy birthday to me”.  My family and friends seem to enjoy this annual moment. However, not having caller ID on the home phone, I’ve no idea who is calling.  I like to not know, and be surprised instead.  But imagine the surprise some callers have when they call this day for reasons other than my birthday. Just now the Walgreen’s pharmacist was taken aback, but immediately offered her birthday wishes to me.  And then notified me the shingles vaccine was in and I could come in for a birthday shot!

I awoke this morning to the sound of an owl in the woods just beyond the bedroom windows.  Owls have been scarce this year and I’ve missed their sound through the nights. So it was pretty special to be awakened this day by an owl.

I lay in bed listening to the hooting, and then to more sounds outside as the natural community just beyond my windows began to awaken.  Such a lovely way to begin the day.

Lying there, I considered how I want to live my 78th year. What ways do I want to walk through the next 365 (God willing) days of my life.  So as the owl hooted good morning I made a first decision for the coming year – to be intentional in listening. In Mary Chapin Carpenter’s song Jericho, she sings: “You can’t hear me yet, listening takes a long, long time…”.

I journeyed out to the deck to sit and listen.

The owl had moved on with daylight, but a Google search about owls informed me that one symbolic meaning is that the presence of the owl announces change. I’m pretty adverse to change, but this 78th year may be a time I embrace “some” change, beginning with intentional listening, then hearing.

Speaking of Google, today’s Doodle features Lyudmilla Vladimorovna Rudenko.  Born on July 27, 1904, she was a Soviet chess player and the second women’s world chess champion, from 1950 until 1953. She was awarded the FIDE titles of International Master and Woman International Master in 1950, and Woman Grandmaster in 1976.

This is good to know. A woman of my parents’ generation who had excelled at both the men’s and women’s game of chess, remembered this day.

What happened next was gastronomic joy.  Donuts!  Not just any donuts, rather artisan donuts.  The Farmhouse opened recently and a dear friend and I figured Starbucks and donuts would be the perfect way to enjoy a birthday breakfast.

I am touched deeply by gifts I received this day. I think more touched than any other birthday I can recall.  Each reflects intention, true intention.  To celebrate me, to honor me, to walk with me.

An old adage says, “the sky is the limit”.  I feel this 78th year of my life holds that promise.

Birthday Blessings for me.

I’m thoughtful about borders and barriers this day.

Having taken up residence some 15 years ago in the north Georgia woods, I’ve come face to face – literally – with creatures and critters who lived here long before I moved in. I have been delighted to share a geographical abode with some of these, not so delighted with others.

I’m not happy about the bears.  Bears in this area don’t experience deep hybernation.  Rather, they “rest” and are mostly inactive during the coldest winter weeks, roaming around the woods the rest of the year, especially in the spring when seeking food.  Berries, nuts and grubs are not plenteous until summer. So they roam to eat.

A number of bird feeders hang in the trees just beyond the house, and off the deck These entice the bears to drop by. In order to dissuade bears from climbing trees to access the feeders, Evan has wrapped the trees with sheets of metal.  When the bears try to climb the trees, they fail.

This spring the bears decided to climb up the posts to the deck to access other bird feeders.  While not actually possible to reach the feeders from the deck, they have not given up trying.  A number of planters have been knocked over and broken, leaving plants askew.  So now the deck posts are wrapped in metal.

After the arrival of two bears earlier today, it’s clear the wrapping length of metal on the posts needs to be extended.  All these barriers are placed so as to co-exist with creatures in whose habitat I have chosen to live.

These bear barriers have me thinking about borders.

My life experiences of crossing boarders has been through travel.  I’ve driven across state lines, picturing maps that show state borders with slender black map lines or blue rivers.  I’ve crossed in and out of countries, experiencing customs lines and officials waving me through after short questioning of my purpose and my planned stay. I’ve flown over state and country borders, without being able to distinguish the actual borders.

I’ve even been a passenger in a rowboat crossing the Rio Grande River border between  Texas and Mexico.  A burro and a horse were the transportation choices upon landing on the Mexican shore.  That’s a story for another time.  A good one, at that.

Currently, the borders surrounding our country are experiencing huge numbers of individuals seeking entry. Seeking the bounty of opportunity and liberty we enjoy, men and women, mothers and fathers, and children clamor for entrance.

With the exception of Native Americans, everyone of us comes from immigrant ancestors who were also seeking opportunity and liberty.

On my walk this day, continuing my focus on week one of my photographic pilgrimage, I walked with hearing, seeing, feeling sensors turned up.  I listened and looked, sensing images I might receive. It was to be barrier images.

Inscribed on the Statue of Liberty,   “Give me your tired, your poor…

your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

the wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, temptest-tost to me,

I lift my lamp…

beside the golden door!”  Emma Lazarus.

How can I help unlock the barriers of the seekers?

I begin here:

The Refugee and Immigrant Center for Education and Legal Services

Together Rising