Green grow the rushes, Ho

I'll sing you twelve, Ho 

Green grow the rushes, Ho

What are your twelve, Ho?

Twelve for the twelve Apostles

Eleven for the eleven who went to heaven,

Ten for the ten commandments,

Nine for the nine bright shiners,

Eight for the April Rainers, 

Seven for the seven stars in the sky, 

Six for the six proud walkers, 

Five for the symbols at your door, 

Four for the Gospel makers,

Three, three, the rivals,

Two, two, the lily-white boys,

Clothèd all in green, Ho Ho 

One is one and all alone 

And evermore shall be (it)(or "as") so.

 

Hmm, wait a minute. These rushes aren't green so the song doesn't work at all. Brown grow the rushes, Ho, doesn't quite work. 

Individual Variations

Each individual has their own capacity to share with others. Although we all have a tendency to view those around us as superficially similar, most people's differences are greater than their similarities. As Johann Wolfgang von Goethe said, "Certain defects are necessary for the existence of individuality." As all have defects, so do all have perfections.

Thistle Down

 "Away they all flew like the down on a thistle... " Santa Claus notwithstanding, thistles are not the most lovable of plants. Every part seems to end in a spike or sticker. In fact, the only appealing part of the plant is its flower and the resulting seeds, the down of the poem. There are several related plants that all get called thistles all of which are considered noxious weeds. Here is Creative Commons photo of the thistle down, once the flower has produced seeds:

See Gene Wilburn in Creative Commons. I think the analogy in Twas the Night before Christmas, is faulty. Thistle down is non-directional and is carried on the wind. We would hope Santa's sleigh is more controllable.

His days are as grass

  13 Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him.

  14 For he knoweth our frame; he remembereth that we are dust.

  15 As for man, his days are as grass: as a flower of the field, so he flourisheth.

  16 For the wind passeth over it, and it is gone; and the place thereof shall know it no more.

  17 But the mercy of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting upon them that fear him, and his righteousness unto children’s children;  

18 To such as keep his covenant, and to those that remember his commandments to do them.

Psalm 103

There is light at the end

Each blade of grass has its spot on earth whence it draws its life, its strength; and so is man rooted to the land from which he draws his faith together with his life.
Joseph Conrad

Going home must be like going to render an account.
Joseph Conrad

Cotton in the raw

Once when I was standing in a grocery store checkout line, I had a younger girl behind me ask what it was that I was purchasing. The item happened to an artichoke. I reflected on the lack of connection with the real world among the young. Having gone to elementary school in Arizona, we were taught about cotton. But, I would assume, like the girl in the store, a picture of an actual cotton plant would be mostly unfamiliar to the vast majority of the American population. That is, of course, unless you were raised on a cotton farm. It is true that we, as a society, have become extremely disassociated with commodities and most raw materials. What is even more interesting is that cotton is an attractive plant with lovely yellow flowers.

I would suppose that I am attracted to basic materials because of my saturation with electronics and the media.

Rain

by Robert Louis Stevenson

The rain is falling all around,
It falls on field and tree,
It rains on the umbrellas here,
And on the ships at sea.

For the beauty of the earth

For the beauty of the earth,
For the glory of the skies;
For the love which from our birth,
Over and around us lies;
Lord of all, to Thee we raise
This, our hymn of grateful praise.

For the wonder of each hour,
Of the day and of the night;
Hill and vale and tree and flow'r,
Sun and moon, and stars of light;
Lord of all, to Thee we raise
This, our hymn of grateful praise.

Patience

If patience is a virtue, then lichen is most virtuous of organisms. It was recently discovered that lichen is a symbiosis of three, not two, plants; a fungus, an alga and/or a bacteria. For a more specific description I refer you to the following from Wikipedia:

Lichens (pronounced /ˈlaɪkən/, sometimes /ˈlɪtʃən/) are composite organisms consisting of a symbiotic association of a fungus (the mycobiont) with a photosynthetic partner (the photobiont or phycobiont), usually either a green alga (commonly Trebouxia) or cyanobacterium (commonly Nostoc).

Here is an organism that has no roots and depends entirely for sustenance on occasional rain water. All of its nutrients are derived from its substrate, usually some form of rock. Lichen can live on very low levels of water and often grow where nothing else will survive.

There is a saying that all things come to those who wait. Perhaps we can take a lesson from the lichen in patience?

An almost perfect composition

As we look around us, we hardly ever see the perfect composition. In every thing there is a perspective that will reveal the perfection of the creations but in our hurried and casual lives we ignore the perfection and see only what we chose to see. We need to stop and view the beauty around us. Quoting John Muir, "Keep close to Nature's heart... and break clear away, once in awhile, and climb a mountain or spend a week in the woods. Wash your spirit clean."

Waterfalls

Being from the desert, I am always fascinated with water and especially with waterfalls. Arizona has some fantastic waterfalls, but they always seem to be at the end of long and dry hikes. What is ever more of a novelty are waterfalls that run all year long. There are places where waterfalls are so common that unless they are spectacularly high or impressively large, they don't even have names. This waterfall is on Cascade Creek in the Hanging Rock State Park in North Carolina and it is unnamed, at least on the maps available.

It was taken in the early fall, when only a few of the leaves had turned colors. I would like to see all of the waterfalls in the winter when they are frozen.

No this is not Arizona, where is it?

Hardwood forests and waterfalls? Well, Arizona has a lot of different areas but this is not one of them. In keeping with the photographic theme of this Blog, I am starting to include photos from all over the United States. Fortunately, I get to travel occasionally and I almost always take my camera. I am reminded of the poem by Robert Southey published in 1820, The Cataract of Lodore. Here it is for those of you unfamiliar with the poem:

"How does the water
Come down at Lodore?"
My little boy asked me
Thus, once on a time;
And moreover he tasked me
To tell him in rhyme.
Anon, at the word,
There first came one daughter,
And then came another,
To second and third
The request of their brother,
And to hear how the water
Comes down at Lodore,
With its rush and its roar,
As many a time
They had seen it before.
So I told them in rhyme,
For of rhymes I had store;
And 'twas in my vocation
For their recreation
That so I should sing;
Because I was Laureate
To them and the King.

From its sources which well
In the tarn on the fell;
From its fountains
In the mountains,
Its rills and its gills;
Through moss and through brake,
It runs and it creeps
For a while, till it sleeps
In its own little lake.
And thence at departing,
Awakening and starting,
It runs through the reeds,
And away it proceeds,
Through meadow and glade,
In sun and in shade,
And through the wood-shelter,
Among crags in its flurry,
Helter-skelter,
Hurry-skurry.
Here it comes sparkling,
And there it lies darkling;
Now smoking and frothing
Its tumult and wrath in,
Till, in this rapid race
On which it is bent,
It reaches the place
Of its steep descent.

The cataract strong
Then plunges along,
Striking and raging
As if a war waging
Its caverns and rocks among;
Rising and leaping,
Sinking and creeping,
Swelling and sweeping,
Showering and springing,
Flying and flinging,
Writhing and ringing,
Eddying and whisking,
Spouting and frisking,
Turning and twisting,
Around and around
With endless rebound:
Smiting and fighting,
A sight to delight in;
Confounding, astounding,
Dizzying and deafening the ear with its sound.

Collecting, projecting,
Receding and speeding,
And shocking and rocking,
And darting and parting,
And threading and spreading,
And whizzing and hissing,
And dripping and skipping,
And hitting and splitting,
And shining and twining,
And rattling and battling,
And shaking and quaking,
And pouring and roaring,
And waving and raving,
And tossing and crossing,
And flowing and going,
And running and stunning,
And foaming and roaming,
And dinning and spinning,
And dropping and hopping,
And working and jerking,
And guggling and struggling,
And heaving and cleaving,
And moaning and groaning;

And glittering and frittering,
And gathering and feathering,
And whitening and brightening,
And quivering and shivering,
And hurrying and skurrying,
And thundering and floundering;

Dividing and gliding and sliding,
And falling and brawling and sprawling,
And driving and riving and striving,
And sprinkling and twinkling and wrinkling,
And sounding and bounding and rounding,
And bubbling and troubling and doubling,
And grumbling and rumbling and tumbling,
And clattering and battering and shattering;

Retreating and beating and meeting and sheeting,
Delaying and straying and playing and spraying,
Advancing and prancing and glancing and dancing,
Recoiling, turmoiling and toiling and boiling,
And gleaming and streaming and steaming and beaming,
And rushing and flushing and brushing and gushing,
And flapping and rapping and clapping and slapping,
And curling and whirling and purling and twirling,
And thumping and plumping and bumping and jumping,
And dashing and flashing and splashing and clashing;
And so never ending, but always descending,
Sounds and motions for ever and ever are blending
All at once and all o'er, with a mighty uproar, -
And this way the water comes down at Lodore.

Psalm 19

The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament sheweth his handywork.

Quartz veins and gold

 It is common knowledge among treasure hunters and prospectors that native gold deposits are sometimes associated with veins of quartz, usually in conjunction with sulfides like pyrite. This picture from North Carolina shows a classically formed quartz vein. There are supposedly over 300 gold mines in North Carolina. Hence my fascination with quartz in veins. For years and years we have had two huge quartz rocks in our front yard. They don't have any gold, but they remind me of the possibility. You may not have associated North Carolina with gold, but in 1799 Conrad Reed found a 17 pound gold nugget in Little Meadow Creek. For years the family did not know what they had and used the rock for a doorstop. Once the family realized what they had, they established the nation's first gold mine, the Reed Gold Mine, now a national historic landmark, is located in Midland, North Carolina. There are reports of North Carolina gold nuggets weighing 28 pounds, 25 pounds and 15 pounds.

An early protective coating

Despite their fearsome appearance, cactus are really quite friendly, in today's parlance, they are seriously mis-understood. Running bare foot through the summer grass, loses its appeal in the desert. Grass is not soft and the other plants are highly protective of their space. Contrary to what you would think, despite the stickers and prickers, we mostly went barefoot all summer. As a matter of fact, except for work and church, I mostly still do. But, we were also very careful what we stepped on, because unless you have experienced being stuck by a cactus, I don't think you can imagine how painful it really is.

An impossible dream

There are a few places on this earth that are so out-of-the-ordinary that they take on a dream like quality. Slot canyons turn the normal perspective of the world upside down and inside out. Arizona and Utah both have more than their share of these unique locations. Utah has Little Wild Horse and The Subway. Arizona has many whose names are almost unknown, but two that are world famous, Upper and Lower Antelope Canyon. Located at the edge of the city limits, just south of Page, Arizona, the canyons are on the Navajo Nation and access is controlled by two families. Although the facilities at the both sites would be considered limited, the Navajo guides are extremely friendly and helpful.

By the way, it is very difficult to get good pictures because it is so dark in the canyons, even during days with bright sunshine. Flash photography gives very poor results and so long exposure times are necessary. It is also a good idea to have a very wide angle lens on your camera.

Hidden in the recesses of the heart

There are places where light is the intruder, almost caves deep in the heart of the stone. Where the reality is stranger than the photograph.

Frank Lloyd Wright attempted to promote a harmony between human habitation the the natural world so that a building, its furnishings and surroundings became a part of a unified, interrelated whole. He got it backward.

Human habitation can never be in harmony with the natural world. Because the natural world is in a constant state of dynamic change. Human construction resists change, while the natural world changes with each passing day of light and dark, rain and snow, wind and storm.

The natural world is always dangerous. Seeking harmony with nature and its environs means living with the possibility that the same forces that create the beauty of nature will turn on you and become your enemy.

When I dream, will I dream of aspens?

These strikingly beautiful white trunked trees grow extensively in certain climate zones. In Arizona, the trees grow above 7000 feet. Driving over the Kaibab Plateau in northern Arizona, gives you a dramatic example of the trees' sensitivity to altitude. As you drive up and down the hills, the trees keep appearing and then disappearing depending on the slight altitude loss or gain. They are most apparent in the Spring when their bright green leaves contrast with the darker colors of the evergreens. Again in the Fall they show dramatically with bright yellow-gold or crimson leaves.

Aspens grow in clumps from a single root system. Groups of aspen trees may be some of the oldest living trees.

Esplanade and Surprise Valley

Almost 2000 feet down into the Grand Canyon there is a strange slick rock wilderness known as the Esplanade. In the picture above, it is the flat area on the butte above the middle of the right side. Just to the left, appearing like a U-shaped short cut-off valley with cliffs on either side, is Surprise Valley. The Esplanade slick rock is sliced by shear canyons and covered with hoodoos. The rock resists any trail making and the only way to navigate the maze is to follow rock cairns set about every 50 yards or so. The rock formations in this area look like remnants of an entirely different landscape, one where the streams ran in an opposite direction to the Colorado River and the cliffs seem to be after thoughts.

Not a place to visit in July and August. I speak from experience.

The road goes ever on and on...

The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.

Tolkien, J. R. R. The Lord of the Rings. London: Allen & Unwin, 1954. 

 

Climbing on the granite

Little Cottonwood Canyon is a U shaped glaciated granite walled canyon in the Wasatch Mountains to the east of Salt Lake City, Utah. For many years, I lived in Cottonwood, a small community, now part of greater Salt Lake. We were some of the early rock climbers on the granite. This was one of our favorite places to climb for two reasons, there was a turn-out parking area along the road and granite was stable. This location is just up the Canyon from the famous FamilySearch Granite Vault. By today's standards our climbing equipment would be considered objectionable. It is now the standard to use non-destructive climbing aids, but at the time pitons were the state of the art. We would climb up until it got time to turn around and then we would rappel down, load up the gear and drive down the canyon to home.

I was never part of the "climbing community" since we did not drink or party, but we probably pioneered many of the common routes known to climbers today. I left off climbing when I went into the Army during the Vietnam War.