Wandering and Wondering

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!!!

When people talk about leisure experiences, they may refer to routine activities as well as special events and activities. Leisure researchers refer to these as CORE and BALANCE experiences. Both are important and the special times are often most memorable.

Core activities are common, every day, low cost, and usually home centered. Balance activities are less common, less frequent, out of the ordinary opportunities. Vacations are an example of balance, but balance activities need not be that extensive.

As I grow older, I appreciate the core activities of my everyday life. I like routine and continuity. I like days that are “uneventful.” On the other hand, I look forward to special times that deviate from my varied routine. As summer comes, I think about the core and balance activities that I remember growing up.

Routine activities (e.g., chores) on the farm were necessary and mundane. I did not mind feeding my sheep and looking after them every day. Dad and I were happy for an “ordinary” day because it meant there were no crises.

When I reflect on summers on the farm, however, I recall with fondness the impromptu times after work was done. One special family outing was to go to the nearby county park, Pinicon Ridge, on Sunday evenings and have a cookout. Mom prepared the side dishes (it was not non-routine for her!) and then we would grill steaks, pork chops, or lamb burgers. These outings were usually just the immediate family since we sometimes did not know what the day would bring, especially when fieldwork came first.

Other balance events that occurred were random evenings when my aunts and uncles and cousins, or neighbors, would get together for “dessert.” Sometimes we would have a watermelon that had been chilling in a cow tank all day. Other times it would be apple crisp or fresh berry pie. A special treat was making hand churned homemade ice cream. I recall the competition with my sisters to lick the pulled paddles from the ice cream maker.

In retirement today it feels like I have choices regarding core and balance activities. I appreciate my daily schedule of writing, volunteering in the park, and hiking. On the other hand, I love parties with friends as well as occasional nights to dine out. I relish opportunities to travel, and I know how glad I am to return to my core routine.

I am grateful to be home in the US, despite the tragic news portrayed on media this morning. I intended to post a blog prepared before my vacation but reflecting on the trip with gratitude seems a way to feed my soul today.

I am grateful for our opportunity to walk/hike the Cotswold Way in England. Importantly, we were healthy and happy during our 10 days together with few glitches.

I am grateful for being physically and mentally able to walk the entire 102+ miles. We added additional miles because we were lost once or twice but that was all part of our experience.

I am profoundly grateful for my seven travelling companions. We encouraged and supported one another unconditionally. We are better friends now than when we started.

I relished the humor and laughter we shared during the sojourn.

The landscapes of our journey enthralled me. The undulating green hills, pastures and crop fields, and thick woods were a delightful contrast to the majestic purple mountains that I experience each day in Colorado.

I am grateful for the four-legged animals we spotted. Cute and well-behaved dogs were on the trail, but almost no kitties. I LOVED the sheep. The lambs were about 4-8 weeks old and often frisky. Walking through pastures and seeing them did not disappoint. We also encountered pheasants, squirrels, rabbits, and one deer.

The magnitude of the wooded areas we treaded were a pleasant surprise. Experiencing beech and horse chestnut trees as a canopy that were hundreds of years old was an unexpected delight. Every day the birds sang almost nonstop, especially in the mornings.

I am grateful for all the voluntary wardens who keep the trails cleared and accessible. They also maintained the stone walls that were in various states of repair. Trail benches were dedicated to local citizens and wardens who had loved and enjoyed the Cotswolds for decades.

I loved meeting the people who provided hosting in the B & B’s where we stayed as well as locals who offered insight and directions. We felt welcomed and encouraged.

I was always grateful for a cold beer/ale at the end of our day and the conviviality of recollecting the best parts of the daily walk.

I am pleased that I, as well as all my travelling companions, tested negative for COVID so we could return home.

I am grateful that I had the financial means, physical ability, and social connections to make this trip. I feel privileged to have experienced this pilgrimage.

I am glad to be home. I look forward to reliving the memories and to planning future journeys to explore this diverse world.

I am out of town and originally planned not to post a blog. I intended to pause for a week. However, I started to reflect on what it means to pause, take a deep breath, regroup, and then carry on again.

A Coca-Cola commercial in 1929 first used the phrase, “The pause that refreshes.” For almost 100 years, that phrase has come to mean more than simply having a cold drink. Pauses are good.

A conversation on taking a pause surfaced in the media last summer when Simone Biles announced that she would not compete in all her Olympic gymnastics events. Some people were upset with the decision but for the sake of her mental health, it was necessary to take a break and make herself whole again.

Putting my blog on pause feels good and gives me a sense of freedom. Not only resting from a timeline but also taking a larger hiatus from my daily routine at home is refreshing. I am taking opportunities on this vacation to appreciate my time away and to contemplate what I want to write in the future. Stay tuned!

I am not a huge sweets lover, but I never met a donut I would turn down. My other sweet downfall, although I am more persnickety, is PIE. I like fruit pies and have a high bar of expectation for these delights.

Growing up in the Midwest may have something to do with my fruit pie affinity. What is more American than pie? I was spoiled, however, with the pies that my mom and aunt made because they were hard to duplicate.

My favorite pie is apple pie made by my mom. Since she passed away three years ago and made far fewer pies in her later years due to declining health, I have not had my favorite apple pie for a while. She taught me how to make pie, but I was never that good with the crust. I can, however, make the apples taste much like moms.

For five years I participated in RAGBRAI (Register’s Annual Great Bike Ride Across Iowa). I subsisted on pie on that ride. It was the best of days when I had pie for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Because most apple pie did not taste like my mother’s, I opted to try variations of rhubarb pie as I rode across the state. I had wonderful pie, and other times, not so great.

We have a diner in Estes Park called, “You Need Pie.” I walk by it most days when I go to the lake. I usually do not carry any money with me, or I would be tempted continually to stop in for a piece “to go.” They serve regular diner food but also have a selection of pie items: quiches, cheesecake, and usually more than a dozen fruit pies—purist pies like cherry or apple, and combination pies like strawberry rhubarb, blueberry apple, and the like.

Twice a month I indulge in a piece of pie. I savor it as an evening treat. The sweetness reminds me of my Iowa roots. I rationalize pie as a reward for having had a good day of hiking or volunteering in the park. On chilly days, pie is comfort food. On warm days, a little ice cream on top is refreshing.

Although I do not NEED pie, I want it as a special indulgence to nourish my sweet tooth and my soul.

I am obsessed with cats–little ones as well as big ones. It isn’t that I don’t like dogs and other animals, but I continue to develop an affinity for cats including the ones that own me and the ones that own the universe.

Three types of cats dominate my life: bobcats, mountain lions, and housecats. The first two are a result of where I live in the mountains of Colorado. I interact with cats every day.

I see bobcats frequently where I live. In the winter, their tracks are evident daily across my driveway in newly fallen snow. These medium sized cats are territorial and solitary. They have black bars on their forelegs and black-tipped, stubby bobbed tails-thus, their name. This predator inhabits wooded areas and meadows. Bobcats hunt rabbits and hares, and consume insects, chickens, geese and other birds, small rodents, and deer. Last week I opened my front door and saw a bobcat staring at me with a ground squirrel hanging out its mouth. It quickly ran off with its breakfast.

I have never seen a mountain lion in my years of coming to, and now living in, Colorado. They are tan to gray in color and can weigh full-grown between 90-150 pounds. They share the space wherever deer live. These big cats thrive in steep, rocky canyons and mountainous areas. People frequently ask me when I volunteer in the park if they should be afraid to hike because of mountain lions. These cats almost never attack adults as we do not resemble their natural prey. Someday I hope I see one from a great distance-100 yards or more. I sometimes come upon their tracks when I hike in the Deer Mountain and Lumpy Ridge areas of the park.

I write regularly about my adorable house cats. They would be happier if they could go outdoors but that is not safe where I live. They make me smile daily and bring me immense joy.

Talking about cats reminds me of a friend who passed away last week after well over 80 years of being a “cat woman.” Anne was in my weekly writing group and one of my biggest blog fans. Shortly after I met her, she announced to me that she was really a cat living in a woman’s body. She loved cats. A little sign along her driveway said, “Cattery West.” Friends found her resting peacefully in her bed having had an apparent heart attack. Her beloved old kitty, Max, was watching over her. I am sure he is grieving for the loss of this kindred spirit.

Little and big cats, and the people that love them, make the world a better place. They bring humans joy as we interact with them. Meanwhile, cats do their part to keep the social and ecological world in balance.