Wandering and Wondering

“Did you see the tractor yet?” Dad asked as I wandered into his shop to say hello. “Over here,” as I stepped over tools and tractor parts scattered across the floor. Dad’s hobby in retirement was restoring antique tractors and he had enough projects to last him well through the next century.

“This was my dad’s new tractor. It’s a John Deere H. I drove it home from Coggon over 60 years ago. I was a high school senior. It was brand new.”

I suspected this was the first and only new tractor dad had ever driven. He never bought anything new but reveled in his ability to make something old run and look like new. He was in the process of putting the two-cylinder tractor back into working order as well as painting the parts with the John Deere green. Mom was helping by painting the wheels yellow as they originally were.

“Do you remember your grandpa’s tractor?”

“Oh yes.” Grandpa came out to the farm everyday when I was little. I was never sure what he did, but he puttered around helping and always drove that tractor when they were baling hay.

Scratching his head, dad reflected, “My dad always loved that tractor. I can’t wait to get it up and running again.”

“What are you going to do with it?” I asked.

“I’m going to drive it in the parade for Harvest Home.” Harvest Home is the local event held every summer in our small town. It traditionally includes a parade, a carnival, and a livestock show. The parade usually had antique tractors refurbished by his buddies in the local “Two-Cylinder Club.” Restoring old machinery seemed to be common hobby of retired farmers.

Dad didn’t say much more to me as he rummaged through a tray of bolts. I watched him for a bit and envisioned him driving down the streets of Coggon later this summer. With his bald head and graying sideburns, he would be a contrast from the blond haired 16-year-old who had driven that tractor home to the farm 60 years ago. I imagined, however, that there would be no less pride in his heart than there had been years ago when he took his first spin with the “H.”

This month marks the 8^th anniversary of my dad’s passing. I love to recall conversations we had over the years and especially this one on an early summer afternoon in 2000. I never see a green John Deere without thinking about my dad and his love for old tractors.

Every morning when not rushing off, I turn on the Weather Channel. I am intrigued by the weather especially from growing up on a farm and learning how our livelihood depended on optimal weather conditions. I turn the TV on so I can see what the weather is like at the homes of my friends and family in places such as Iowa, Oklahoma, Missouri, California, Texas, and North Carolina.

Climate change is making my fascination for weather greater. People are experiencing more fierce and frequent major weather events these days no matter where they live.

Growing up in Iowa, the main worry was tornadoes and hailstorms. Even though my parents were wary, they made sure us kids were safe by having a plan for going to the basement in the event of bad storms. I ran down there far more often than needed, but it made me feel better even though I worried about the rest of the family that was not necessarily joining me.

An anomaly of Iowa was the derecho that hit in 2020. Most people had never heard of such phenomena before that severe windstorm happened. I am glad I didn’t worry about that growing up.

North Carolina was notorious for hurricanes. I didn’t live on the coast, but I experienced the effects of hurricanes as they came inland with the dousing rain and intense winds. I will not forget the night that Hurricane Fran roared through the Raleigh-Durham area. I had never experienced such unrelenting winds.

When I moved to Colorado, my concerns with hurricanes and tornados were over. However, I had not considered the growing potential for forest fires year around. Mostly the rain is never cursed because it mitigates fire danger. Fires used to occur only in the fall, but they are possible any time.

Chances of experiencing the catastrophic weather events that now occur has changed. According to the US Geological Survey, a 100-year flood does not mean it happens only once in 100 years but that there is a 1 in 100 chance of an event of this magnitude occurring during any given year. The probability is increasing.

Scientists have proven these natural disasters are exacerbated by human-caused climate change. The events should more aptly be named climate disasters. The seven warmest years in the 1880-2020 records have all occurred since 2014 and these global temperature changes are creating extreme and frequent severe weather.

Although nature creates these climate disasters, nature can also heal the earth. I must live with daily weather, but to prevent climate disasters is a daunting challenge. It will take individuals, government entities, and citizens of the world caring enough to address the changing climate to mitigate dramatic weather events into the future.

Walking and hiking are my favorite activities. Since the pandemic began over 2 ½ years ago as well as for other reasons, I am gratified with slow movement when walking or hiking. After over 40 years a runner, leisurely movement is practical and satisfying for me.

Walking is a realization that I am becoming my mother. My mom was a walker and prided herself in the 3+ miles a day she did most days through her mid-80s. I remember the walks we took along Iowa roads. Sometimes I would run first and then meet her to walk home. Other times we just walked and talked.

A friend has been an avid marathon runner for years. I asked her recently how her training was going. Surprisingly, she replied, “I have been doing a lot more walking than running these days.” I figured she was referring to the stress that running puts on one’s aging body. “No,” she replied, “I notice the world and nature around me more when I walk than when I run.”

I still run sometimes, but walking is primary. The idea of relaxed activity is a cultural shift toward slowing down life’s pace. I now have the time and ability to take life more slowly, and walking is a form of exercise and an opportunity for mindful meditation.

At an eco-village in Peru years ago, I participated in a group walking meditation on a spiral path. I learned that walking meditation, or mindful walking, is a practice of giving full attention to movement and the feelings it produces. It allowed me to focus on the present moment without judgment.

Ralph Waldo Emerson noted, “It’s not the destination, it’s the journey.” Slow movement, walking, walking meditation, and hiking give me an opportunity to appreciate my surroundings. This focus was evident as I walked/hiked highlights of the Tour du Mont-Blanc last week. Movement was a challenge with the elevation gains and declines.

I concentrated, however, on keeping my breathing regular with each step. I kept myself grounded to the earth as a noticed my feet striding in a rhythmic pace. I enjoyed the deliberation of each step and was mindful of the beauty of the landscape around me. I appreciated the gentle breezes and the sunshine on my shoulders. My body and mind worked together.

I enjoy the variety that walking offers. Sometimes I do not want to experience slowness. Regardless, I try to be mindful of the day and focus my awareness of whatever my pace and destination. I am developing my own form of walking with or without meditation that enables me to be alone with myself and/or enjoy the company of others.

Good things in life may not be sustainable. National parks are one of America’s best ideas. Yet, some parks are being “loved to death” and cannot endure in a system that previously worked. Park staff instituted a pilot timed entry system three years ago to address overcrowding in Rocky Mountain National Park (RMNP). This change has not been without controversies.

Immediate gratification is not always possible as I learned as a child. Patience and planning sometimes are necessary. This timed entry system is in effect for four months of the year and impacts both tourists and residents because it requires preparation. It does not prevent anyone from coming to the park. It regulates the hours and places where people can go.

As much as I dislike the situation, RMNP cannot withstand the volume of summer visitation that has burgeoned. People enjoying this beautiful place is a good thing. On the other hand, this love affair is creating overcrowding, diminished visitor experiences, and headaches for park staff.

The purpose of the park service is to preserve public land unimpaired for the enjoyment of current and future generations. If visitation remains unregulated, the park may become impaired to the extent it will not be available in its present form for present or future callers.

Little change has occurred in RMNP’s available trails, facilities, law enforcement, and staff resources even though visitation has increased over 50% in the past eight years. The number of people has resulted in overuse and despoiled resources. COVID pushed the park administration to assess options to address problems, and RMNP staff are experimenting with procedures evaluated yearly. Such approaches will not go away unless visitation declines dramatically. 

This timed entry situation has not pleased people, and especially local people who expect unlimited access. However, RMNP is a national park and locals are paying no more than visitors living in Texas or Iowa. 

I do not want my opportunities restricted. Nevertheless, I do not want the park or any public lands to lose qualities that make them special—well maintained trails, available amenities such as restrooms, natural landscapes of peace and respite, abundant wildlife, helpful staff, and law enforcement. Compromises are necessary.

RMNP and the Estes Valley are different than I anticipated when I moved here. I am, however, grateful for this beautiful land and I support the sacrifices that I will need to make to ensure that this park remains a place of beauty and inspiration for myself as well as for current and future visitors.

I had a life-changing experience when I was 24 years old. I spent 6 months in the country of Turkey and my life has never been the same. Other experiences have influenced life choices, but this opportunity in 1974 opened my eyes to worlds different than my own.

I participated in IFYE—originally called the International Farm Youth Exchange, then the International 4-H Youth Exchange, and now just IFYE. The program began in the 1940s as a way for rural young people to participate in international exchange programs and cross-cultural education while promoting global awareness. The purpose is to promote peaceful understanding to affirm the value of all cultural perspectives.

I grew up on an Iowa farm. Although I had travelled a little in the US, I had limited association with other cultures. I was curious as a young adult and was aware of my cultural unawareness. University students now have opportunities for study abroad, but in the 1960’s, these programs were not the norm.

Two of us were assigned to Turkey. We took a crash course in the Turkish language for two weeks upon arriving. Hardly anyone spoke English with little written English. Ankara was a modernizing city but the rural areas where we spent our time promoted traditional lifestyles.

I lived with 20 different families during my 6 months ranging from sleeping accommodations that were in a single-room home connected to animal sheds, all the way to a mansion on the Aegean Sea where I had a personal servant during my stay.

Barak Obama stated “…we’re joined together by our pursuit of a life that’s productive and purposeful, and when that happens mistrust begins to fade and our smaller differences no longer overshadow the things that we share.” In my international experience, I learned about Turkish people and to appreciate my country more fully. The differences as well as the similarities among people became obvious.

I learned to speak with my hands along with my Tarzan style Turkish vocabulary. I recognized that the fancy camera that I purchased for $250 was equivalent to the average income of a Turkish farm family for a year. I concluded that happiness in life had little to do with material possessions.

I saw that Turkish people had the same range of emotions as I did. They loved their families and would do anything for them. They found joy in simple things. Islam gave them comfort and these teachings had similarities to my Christian beliefs. They wanted to learn about other cultures. Most of all, Turkish people wanted to be friends.

I am about to leave on a hiking trip to western Europe. The cultural experience is different from immersing myself in a developing country, but I look forward to appreciating the landscape, the local people, and the music and cuisine of an area that expands my thinking about my American roots.

Nothing is as dangerous as a mother protecting her babies. Babies in the park are now mostly adolescents, and they still need protection. The most threatening animals anywhere, including among humans, can be mothers with children. Although fathers also are the protectors of some species, mothers have a special role.

I have not been a biological mother so cannot speak directly to what protecting one’s offspring means. However, I am a cat mom, I love babies, and I feel great love for my adopted wild children.

In the animal world, two parents may raise young ones. In the past week, I was accosted by a hissing goose parent as well as swallows protecting their nest.

In other cases, however, such as among elk and moose populations, mothers are the primary caregivers. People sometimes worry about encountering bears and mountain lions in Rocky Mountain National Park, but they are of little consequence compared to mother elk or moose protecting their babies.

I had an experience with a mother elk last spring that could have been a disaster. The area around Lake Estes is often a prime area for cow elk to give birth. I was aware of this possibility when I went for a walk one evening. As I proceeded on the concrete path, I kept looking around cautiously to if any elk were there. Suddenly I heard the clip clop of hooves behind me and turned to come face to face with a large mama elk. She stopped as I gently whispered to her, “I meant you no harm and I am going to climb over this fence just as quickly as I can. Just be patient with me.” She hesitantly took a couple steps toward me but waited as I clumsily got away. She slowly went back toward the trees as I retreated behind the fence. I did not see a baby, but I know it was hiding nearby.

The “mama bear” meme image is popular these days. The urban dictionary defines a mama bear as a mom who can be cuddly and lovable but also has a ferocious side when it’s necessary to protect her cubs. A mama bear can be biological mom or the head of a group. I respect that notion that applies to humans as well as wild and domestic animals.

The babies born this spring continue to be safeguarded, but most moms (and other parents) are giving them their freedom, even though they are not yet independent. All moms should be proud of their efforts.

My goal each day is to live in the moment and enjoy my busy life. Sometimes I am unsuccessful because of useless emotions. Guilt and worry can steal away peaceful moments. I can’t avoid these feelings, but I am conscious of the energy they take that could be used in other ways.

In articles written several years ago in Psychology Today, authors discussed the useless emotions of guilt and worry. Worry looks ahead and sees potential threat at every turn. Guilt looks behind focusing on mistakes and disappointments. Guilt cannot change the past and worry cannot change the future.

I sometimes experience guilt when I wake up in the middle of the night and cannot get back to sleep. It seems that every wrong I ever committed pops into my mind until I can count enough sheep to fall back asleep. Irrational guilt is based on “should haves.” Rational guilt is centered on one’s values and expectations of self. Either one can cause me to waste time thinking about something that I can no longer control.

I did the best that I could do with my life most times. On the other hand, I could have done better. I hope I learned from those mistakes and will not worry about repeating them in the future.

Worry is something that comes easily to me. I am becoming better at assessing what I can and cannot control. Planning is important. I can take reasonable measures to safeguard my health and personal interests. Worrying, however, increases my anxiety and does not necessarily help me do my best to be ready for the future. Worry without preparedness adds emotional baggage that heightens my anxiety and interferes with my ability to function.

Since the wildfires in our area in 2020 unnerved me, I do worry about fires. On the other hand, I do what I can do to try to reduce fire hazards around my home. And, this time, I have a better plan for evacuation if needed. I can’t control wildfires, but I can be ready and worry less.

As I try to be mindful and live in the moment, I am finding that guilt and worry can be at odds with a life that celebrates the goodness of what is happening around me. I am learning from guilt and assessing worry to use them to be a better human being in the future.

Sheep Lakes is an area in Rocky Mountain National Park’ Horseshoe Park where sheep come in the summer to lick the minerals along the edges of the small lakes/ponds. The landscape is verdant in the spring where animals including sheep, moose, coyotes, elk, geese, ducks, Wyoming ground squirrels, and voles and mice share the space.

A coyote family built a den in the middle of meadow about 200 yards from the parking lot this year. With binoculars and high-powered cameras lenses, one got close view of the den. The family of coyotes consisted of three adults and nine pups. The adults came and went as they hunted in the meadow. The pups popped up to play in the sunshine or nurse from their mom.

As the story was relayed to me, one early morning two adult coyotes went out hunting. They came upon a newborn elk calf hidden by its mom near the meadow. They drug it away toward their den pleased that this would be a much bigger treat than catching mice and ground squirrels for their hungry offspring.

Several elk moms came charging over toward the den and began kicking at the coyotes who proceeded to drop the calf. One of the cows nudged the calf and got it up and walking away. It was escorted to safety by cows who had freed it.

Two of the elk mommas then returned to the den and began jumping up and down on it as if scolding the coyotes for even thinking about taking one of their young. One pup peeked its head out temporarily but retreated quickly. Apparently satisfied, the elk moved away and headed up into the trees away from the meadow.

I did not see this episode firsthand, but it reflected the circle of life in the wild. Had I been there, I would have cheered for the elk calf. On the other hand, feeding those hungry pups is no small task for coyote adults. I am glad I was not present for the drama. Yet, it reminds me of the Lion King and the circle of life:

In the circle of life

It’s the wheel of fortune

It’s the leap of faith

It’s the band of hope…

In the circle, the circle of life.

I hope that elk calf has a long life, and I also hope the coyote pups survive. The value of public lands like Rocky Mountain National Park is that it is a place to balance ecology—a place for conservation, preservation, and acknowledging the circle of life.

Update as of June 19, 2022: The Coyotes have moved their den twice and it is no longer visible from the Sheep Lakes parking lot. Visitors have reported that seven pups are still alive.

The 3 C’s of Life: Choices, Chances, Changes. You must make a Choice to take a Chance or your life will never Change. (author unknown)

These ideas sum most everyone’s past, present, and future. Choices sometimes require great deliberation and other times they are readily discernible. Deciding to take a job has long term consequences. Choosing something from a restaurant menu has limited benefits or costs. Sometimes choices are not an option.

When I make a choice, I have set on a direction that means I cannot have other options, at least at that point. If it doesn’t work, additional opportunities to choose may be possible but may require patience until the timing is right. Having lots of choices is welcome but can also be overwhelming.

I cannot make a choice without taking a chance. Often the chances are calculable. Going through life without making any choices is not possible, so thinking about the chances based on thoughtful reflection is important. I cannot control the outcomes of all choices but considering the worst and best implications may make deciding less scary.

Any choice made in life will result in change. Although cliché, change is the only consistent aspect of most people’s lives. I am getting better at embracing change as I get older. Although things happen to me, and I experience good parts of my day that I wish I could hold on to forever, the reality is that change is inevitable. Embracing change and adjusting my attitude toward change, however, is an ongoing process.

Sometimes change happens and we don’t have a choice. Unanticipated and abrupt change, such as the passing of a loved one, is difficult to navigate. I recognize that my life could change on a dime, whether I have a choice or take a chance. I am grateful for each day that allows me to make choices.

My life makes sense when I think of it as a series of choices, chances, and changes. Having the expectation that change will occur can be exciting, and at the same time, daunting. Having opportunities for choices and change makes daily living easier. Adapting to change because of choices and chances, or not, is a continual challenge.

4:00pm Gitch: Mom should be home soon. I am hungry.

Mog: Me too! I guess I could get up and stretch my legs, so I am ready to rub on her legs when she arrives.

4:15pm Gitch: Where is mom? Doesn’t she know it is time for our supper?

Mog: Chill, brother, she might have gotten detained at the Info Office today. You know that happens when they get a caller at 3:59pm who has questions. Don’t you remember her coming home and grumbling about that?

Gitch: Yes, but that doesn’t happen every day. Where is she? My breakfast kibble has worn off and I have been busy all day guarding the house, while you snoozed on the desk chair.

Mog (Yawning). When she left this morning, she just told us her usual “Love you” and didn’t say anything about being late. I’m not worried.

4:35pm Gitch: Where is she? She’s late.

Mog: I am getting a little peckish, too. We must be patient, my brother.

5:00 Gitch: I am getting worried. What if she doesn’t come home?

Mog: She always comes home, or she sends someone to feed us. Remember she was just gone for 2 weeks, and Skyler was here twice a day. I did miss cuddling with her at night even though we were well fed.

5:30 Gitch: OMG. Where is she? What if something happened to her? What if she never comes home?

Mog: She will be here. Besides, I remember her telling us that if she was no longer around, she had provided for our care in her Trust Fund. She said if anything happened to her, there would be someone to take care of us and make sure we have the best food and medical care possible.

Gitch: I want Momma Karla, not her stupid money to buy us food and meds. I will try to calm myself and just lay on the bed and wait.

5:40 Gitch: Did you hear something? Was that the garage door opening? Is that the sound of the Subaru? Is she home? I must run fast and greet her at the door.

Mog: Me too!

Gitch: I’m starving, and I hope she gets inside quickly. I want to quit worrying, go back to living in the moment as cats are supposed to do, and just EAT!

5:42 Karla: Hi kitties. Did you have a good day? I am sorry I am a little late—I had to run errands. Are you ready for supper?

Gitch: Damn tootin’ we are! Meow, meow, meow!!!