Wandering and Wondering

Happy New Year! Celebrating the new year is a means for looking back and looking ahead. I gave up making new year’s resolutions years ago, but an appealing idea is Celebrating the Old Year and acknowledging small moments I remember (and in some cases wrote about) in 2022.

The new year offers ways to improve myself and support the communities I care about. It also creates opportunities for reflection on things that made me smile:

• Seeing my kitties’ quiver butts of excitement when they are about to be fed
• Listening to the calls of cow elk to their babies, and vice versa
• Noting the first pink light from sunlight on the Continental Divide
• Discovering mountain lion tracks along a trail
• Bubbles rising in ice on an alpine lake
• Sensing the wiggly bottoms of happy dogs
• Clouds that look like an image of something
• Warm creamy hot chocolate
• The first sip of coffee in the morning
• Coming upon a tiny snowperson on a trail in the park
• My kitties nudging my hand to tell me it is time to get out of bed (and feed them!)
• A snowshoe hare peaking out from his hiding place in the trees
• The stealth sound of goose wings as they fly overhead
• Putting on festive socks each Monday to celebrate “Sock Monday” at the park
• Getting an unexpected call/email/text from someone from my past just to say hello
• Birds delighting on the fresh seeds at the birdfeeder
• Remembering the fun and funny aspects of people who began their unearthly journeys this year
• Hearing a song associated with warm memories from a time long passed
• Wailing on a trumpet fanfare in band
• Anticipating the first sight of the full moon rising
• Stopping and staring at a beautiful landscape
• The seriousness and pride of a child getting sworn in as a Junior Ranger
• And much more…

December 21, the Winter Solstice, is a monumental date for me each year. The Winter Solstice is the day with the shortest period of daylight and longest night of the year. The sun is at its lowest daily maximum elevation in the sky. At noon in sunshine on December 21, I cast a long shadow and appear to be taller than any other time of the year. I revere the date because everything is “UP” (except my height!) from there.

I prefer light over darkness, as do most people. I like the yin-yang of light and darkness. I convince myself that darkness helps me appreciate the light. Light fills the dark spaces. I do, however, sometimes feel the “winter blues” related to limited sunlight.

I know people who have Seasonal Affective Disorder, a clinical diagnosis that makes this time of darkness quite difficult. They may require phototherapy, counseling, and/or medication to get through this period. I try to ward off down feelings by staying busy and looking for signs of light as the days get longer. Because Colorado has so many days of sunshine (300 days a year), I can get outdoors most days and get my dose of Vitamin D. In addition, one additional minute of light each day buoys me.

Cultures and religions highlight the importance of putting light into our lives. For example, Chanukah’ (12/18-12/26) is the Festival of Lights because the central symbol of the festival is the menorah, the seven-branched candelabrum. Christians celebrate Jesus as the divine light coming into the world on Christmas eve. Iran has the Yalda festival that marks the day that Mithra, an angel of light, was born. China’s Dongzhi festival emphasizes when winter’s darkness begins to give way to light. Scandinavians celebrate Yule, or Ule, a multi-day feast when people celebrate the return of the sun god.

I decorate my house each year with red Christmas lights around the mantel. After I take them down in early January, I replace them with blue lights that I illuminate every night until the Spring Equinox. Our town puts up Christmas lights before Thanksgiving and keeps them up into mid-February. Although it is artificial light, it brightens my world until the longer days return.

I enjoy winter. I like winter activities. I don’t mind the cold. An advantage of the long nights is that I always see the sunrise this time of the year. Nevertheless, I celebrate the promise of more light each day when the Winter Solstice passes.

Energy is needed for holiday gatherings. I particularly think about my mother and her obligatory vigor over the years to ensure that our family was comfortable and happy on Christmas Day. She supplied physical and undervalued invisible emotional labor to keep us contented and cheerful.

Emotional labor is a term coined by sociologist Arlie Hochschild. She proposed that emotional management requires the consumption of human energy. It can occur in the workplace and/or at home. A compelling leisure research analysis by Leslie Bella, The Christmas Imperative, described how little fun holidays were for some women because of the amount of labor they not only put into preparations for family gatherings but also the momentum expended to make sure that everyone was compatible and had an enjoyable time with limited awkward moments. Holiday rituals are significant, and mothers are usually responsible for them.

I am grateful for everything that my mother did. I don’t think I realized how important it was until later in her life. Although I returned to Iowa for most holidays and was there Christmas eve day and Christmas morning to be her sous chef, I didn’t have the emotional investment she had.

Having tasty food was important to mom and she tended to vary the menu. An important prerequisite was the dinner table. Regardless of how many people were invited, she insisted on everyone sitting around the big table, or the kids’ table nearby. The red tablecloth provided a stunning backdrop for the plain white China and Crystal glassware. Festive Christmas cloth napkins added flare. Every year she made new placards so there would be no questions about where to sit when it was time to offer Christmas blessings and begin the feast. During the meal, she guided the conversations as she assured that everyone got plenty to eat.

Mom loved her role, but eventually it was not only the physical busyness but also the emotional stress that resulted in her giving the Christmas tableware to my sister so she could continue the family traditions. My sister was not invested in the details, and the actual Christmas dinner was never the same when we gathered. I miss my mom’s Christmas celebrations.

I wish I could tell my mom again, as well as my grandmothers and aunts, how much we appreciated the efforts, physical and emotional, into making Christmas dinner and all our holiday gatherings a lifelong happy memory.

Ah, the sights, sounds, and smells of a fire crackling in a fireplace. I miss that romanticism and at the same time, recognize that for many people the functionality is more important than the aesthetics.  

I grew up in a farmhouse that used a wood stove for heating the downstairs of the drafty old house. As a kid I didn’t realize how much effort it took to maintain that wood stove. As I got older, I often had the responsibility of assuring plenty of wood in the bin on the porch so that dad could get it started every morning before the family stirred.

My mom was not thrilled about that stove with all the work and cleaning it took. She couldn’t wait to remodel the kitchen and get rid of the wood stove. However, within a couple years she realized the ambience (and economy) of the heat source and a newer version that was far less intrusive was installed.

Until I moved to Colorado, I lived in houses that had wood burning fireplaces. I didn’t use them as a heat source, but they added greatly to the coziness of my home. During those years I learned the art of “scrounging for wood.” Keeping alert for anyone who had wood to give away became an occupation. With the help of friends, I was able to saw, split and haul wood to prepare for the winter fires. If all else failed, I could buy split wood but that was not nearly as gratifying as scavenging.

In my Colorado townhome, I flip a switch to start a gas-burning fireplace. It is easy and tidy, but not nearly as much fun. Fortunately, I have friends who have real fireplaces and I seek opportunities to help them find wood and get it ready for the winter so I can enjoy it when I visit.

Scrounging for wood does not appear on any list of leisure activities but I relish the task. An older woman in Estes Park relies on a wood stove to compensate for the costs of her furnace system. I am part of a community that supplies wood. I continue to experience the unusual thrill of cutting, splitting, and stacking wood for someone besides myself who appreciates scrounging on many levels.

When I think of philanthropy, I think of people who give huge sums of money such as Andrew Carnegie or Bill and Melinda Gates. I never thought of myself as a philanthropist in its broadest sense until recently.

Although the definition of philanthropy generally connotes monetary donations, it encompasses much more. Philanthropy is the desire to promote the welfare of others through gifts or acts. Martin Luther King, Jr admonished, “Life’s most persistent and urgent question is, ‘What are you doing for others?'”

I grew up in a culture of philanthropy relative to good acts, although those words were never used as I recall. Small communities often have this ethic of care. Some people may not have a lot of money to donate, but most people donate their time. Time is money.

Volunteering, whether it is formally in a designated position or helping a neighbor next door, is a foundation of successful communities. Donations for direct services or to support staff who facilitate opportunities for giving is the basis of many nonprofit organizations.

In early November, sans the pandemic year, the Estes Park Nonprofit Resource Center (EPNRC) sets aside a day to honor philanthropy in our community. The EPNRC provides tools that support, connect, and inspire community nonprofits to create a “Culture of Philanthropy” in the Estes Valley.

The quixotic concern of people is either the lack of time or lack of money to enjoy aspects of life. I am privileged in my retirement to have both enough time and money. Therefore, I can volunteer my time for opportunities I support that influence the welfare of others including people and animals. In addition, I can allot moderate amounts of money to causes that are important. I am not a philanthropist at the level of multi-millionaires but as a citizen I am privileged to share with others.

My philanthropic priorities extend year around as a volunteer and as a donor. The end of the year, however, is a prime time for financial giving. Giving Tuesday is a national promotion to remind people about charitable giving as is Colorado Gives Day next week. My contributions of time and money, along with that of many other folks, indicates the greater intrinsic rewards of doing for others.

If Halloween is my least favorite holiday, Thanksgiving is my favorite. As the years go by, Thanksgiving becomes more important. I believe that giving thanks is an ongoing daily practice, and I also like the idea of pausing one special day and remembering the abundance I have.

I wasn’t so enamored with Thanksgiving growing up because no gifts or candy was associated even though it was a two-day holiday from school. I love to eat so all the food was fun. My mom’s orange-cranberry sauce was a special treat on that day. Otherwise, it was not that exciting.

Unlike other holidays, I had few rituals associated with my family and Thanksgiving. Since I have not lived in Iowa since early adulthood, going “home” for Thanksgiving was not something I did when Christmas took priority for travel. Most Thanksgivings have been with my chosen families (Friendsgiving) rather than my family of origin.

I am thankful for all the “families” I have. My most memorable Thanksgiving was in 2020 when my Estes Park friends designed a way to enjoy tasty food and fellowship without sitting inside in an environment that might spread COVID. We all brought a contribution to the meal, stayed outside to socialize and give thanks, and then each household took platefuls of food home for small gatherings.

That Covid-era Thanksgiving two years ago reminded me of Oprah Winfrey’s statement: “Be thankful for what you have; you’ll end up having more. If you concentrate on what you don’t have, you will never, ever have enough.”

Thanksgiving Day in the US is surrounded by myths and different perceptions. For example, since 1970 Native Americans have gathered at noon in Plymouth, Massachusetts to commemorate a National Day of Mourning on the Thanksgiving holiday. The day of remembrance and spiritual connection is also a protest of the racism and oppression that Native Americans experienced after that first Thanksgiving. The Thanksgiving celebration does not have the same meaning for everyone.

In addition on Thanksgiving Day, I will feel sadness as I remember friends who were alive last November but will leave empty seats at their families’ meals this year. Gratitude, however, involves a conscious choice made even during sorrow.

I look forward to Thanksgiving Day and to all the emotions it generates. I am grateful to write this blog. I am grateful for you, my readers, who follow me regularly and/or just occasionally. Happy Thanksgiving!

“Don’t it always seem to go
That you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone?
They paved paradise, put up a parking lot.”

Joni Mitchell’s famous lines from Big Yellow Taxi are more important today than they were in 1969.

Fortunately, I live in a community where public land abounds. Nevertheless, private holdings remain under threat for future development. If all private land was developed adjacent to these public lands, huge homes and multi-family tourist developments would be visible everywhere equivalent to paving paradise.

I am proud to be on the Board of Directors of the Estes Valley Land Trust (EVLT). Our mission is to conserve land throughout the Estes Valley and surrounding areas for current and future generations. Conservation is defined as the prevention of wasteful use of a resource. Conservation is planned management to prevent exploitation, destruction, or neglect of a natural area.

When I think about conserving land, I dream of beautiful landscapes as well as abundant habitat for wildlife. I believe EVLT speaks for the one-legged trees as well as for the furred, finned, and feathered wildlife in our community.

Our local Land Trust is one of 948 such organizations across the United States. A land trust is an organization that works to protect both public and private lands through conservation easements.  A landowner can voluntarily enter into a legal agreement with the Estes Valley Land Trust that permanently restricts land use to protect the nature-based values of a property.

A conservation easement assures conservation into the future. If a property is sold, the easement remains with it. The property owner can be eligible for certain state and federal income tax benefits. Aside from the tangible benefits, an easement demonstrates the environmental consciousness of landowners who want to maintain the natural beauty and plentiful wildlife in an area such as ours.

In the daunting era of rapid climate change, the conservation of land is a positive action to take. Whether it is one acre or a thousand acres, the EVLT attempts to keep our community as natural as possible. I am grateful that the adjacent area south of downtown is in a permanent easement that enables wildlife to freely roam the area. Just this week, EVLT trust approved two property easements adjacent to Rocky Mountain National Park and US Forest Service Land that will be kept in their most natural state into perpetuity.

I am thankful that people in my community appreciate what we’ve got!

Wordle is a fun distraction every day. I am not particularly good at it, but I usually get over 90% of the words figured out in the third to sixth try. The game is fun, and I don’t get obsessed with it since there is only one word a day. The game epitomizes my interest in words.

Words consist of meanings and sound. Without words, my thoughts cannot become my reality.

Words are the foundation of communication. I love learning new words. If I hear/read a word that I do not know, I often look it up. I am certainly not a word scholar, but I love to find words that express something in a way that is accurate and compelling for me.

New words come into social vernacular all the time. I read last week that “permacrisis” is the word of the year indicating that society seems to be in “an extended period of instability and insecurity permanent crisis.”

Before computers, I had a Thesaurus sitting at my desk that I used in writing to avoid overusing some words. For example, something could be described as “pretty,” but it might be more meaningful to use a word like attractive, cute, appealing, picturesque, comely, exquisite, lovely, or handsome.

I find the sound of words interesting. One of my favorite words is “serendipity.” I first heard it related to a folk group called the Serendipity Singers in the 1960’s. The “the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way” is a word I love to use.

Non-English words are fun and handy. A word I have enjoyed is “laissez-faire” –an attitude of letting things take their own course. Another French phrase that I relish is “joie de vivre” used to express a cheerful enjoyment of life.

A BIG word I learned as a child was “harbinger.” In Iowa at that time, and I am not so sure it is still true today, seeing a robin in early March was a harbinger of spring. I loved seeing that harbinger.

I don’t need to use obtuse words but sometimes the right word is necessary to convey the meanings I want to share. Concomitantly, I am learning the necessity of “economy of expressions.” Rather than using lots of words to convey a meaning, sometimes using just the right word is best. I abhor the use of superlatives like “very” that are not as descriptive as the right word. Hyperbole can be avoided by clear descriptions.

Finding the right word, whether it is winning at Wordle or nailing a description is invigorating for me. I cannot imagine a world without interesting words that enable my expression. Words have power.

In a 2000 book entitled Bowling Alone, Richard Putnam describes how the US has been experiencing a declining social capital. A community’s level of social capital is determined by the strength of the relationships forged within social networks. Simply, Putnam suggested that people would rather bowl alone rather than make a commitment to a league.

I cannot relate to the bowling metaphor, but I am realizing that if people fail to meaningfully connect with one another with a commitment to the common good, we cannot reap the benefits of trust, reciprocity, and cooperation.

I feel fortunate to have grown up in a rural community where people helping each other was a common practice. People knew they needed others to be successful. The old traditions of barn raisings or quilting bees are romantic examples, but that sense existed when I was growing up.

I purposely chose to live in a small town upon retirement because I wanted to try to re-build my social capital. I did not have a sense of community living in the medium sized cities most of my adult life. However, having friends and relationships through work, community band, running club, and recreational teams was different than knowing people who know many of the same people I know.

As I age, I recognize that groups come and go in my life. Some stay for a long time. When I lived in Wisconsin, a group of women got together monthly to do various shared activities. That group has remained connected over the years, and we have had several reunions. As we age, we realize that we should get together more often.

My greatest source of social capital these days is the volunteers with whom I work at Rocky Mountain National Park. I love this park and want to volunteer to give back. I had no idea that dozens of other people felt the same way. We share a common bond in our commitment to the park and to one another. Those volunteer comrades are the heart and soul of my retired life.

I am indebted to North Carolina State University for the opportunities in the last ten years of my professional career. The nickname for NCSU athletics is the Wolfpack. A Rudyard Kipling quote associated with a wolfpack is, “The Strength of the Pack is the Wolf… The Strength of the Wolf is the Pack!” That describes for me what social capital and community is about. The strengths of any community are the individuals—the strength of individuals is their commitment to their communities.

My least favorite holiday is Halloween. I am glad when it is over each year.

I do like carving pumpkins, candy corn, images of black cats, and festive autumn colors. Beyond that, however, little endears me to the holiday.

Halloween began over 2000 years ago in the pagan festival of Samhain among the Celts of ancient Britain and Ireland. On November 1, the new year marked the beginning of the winter period. It was often associated with death and warding off evil. Traditions around those concerns developed on October 31 and remain today.

I didn’t go trick or treating as a child since we lived in the country. The alternative was a Halloween Party at our church. I am not blaming my feelings for Halloween based on my upbringing. On the other hand, I did not get overly excited about church Halloween even though we did activities like wear costumes and bob for apples. I will, however, always remember (circa 1956) when my cousins dressed up at Elvis Pressley and a hound dog at the Halloween party.

I am one of those curmudgeons who turns off all the lights on Halloween night and retreats to the back rooms of my house so children will NOT come to beg at my door. Candy rots teeth and makes people chubby—how is that for being a Halloween killjoy?

My biggest problem is the focus on horror, scary things, creepiness, and the grotesque. I went to one horror movie in my life when I was in high school. I pulled my coat over my head the whole time and have never gone to another such movie. I find it offensive that Halloween regalia can make fun of people who are “different.”

Costumes do not have to be ugly and grotesque. I have had fun seeing the outfits that creative people can put together and wonder why I didn’t think of that. However, Halloween creativity is a stretch for me, except for my Fat Bear costume in 2019 (see photo).

I am glad that I live in a community that has a fun Halloween tradition. In Estes Park, residents come to the main street blocked off for 2-3 hours. Children as well as adults (and sometimes dogs) dress up in costumes and go store to store to garner free treats. Local organizations and businesses serve complimentary hot dogs, chili, and cocoa. People stroll on the streets and greet each other along the way.

Halloween is what it is. I do not disparage people who look forward to Halloween rituals–Happy Halloween! It’s just not for me…