Monthly Archives: August 2013

Generosity Killed the Cynic

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20130828-180550.jpgGenerosity on the trail comes in many forms… day hikers spontaneously offering us snacks, strangers providing us rides to town, and the anonymous angels who leave beers in streams with a note that says “Enjoy.” It is humbling to find ourselves surrounded by these gestures each day.

Today we tip out hats to the several friends and family members who have generously sent us mail. We know it woulda been hella easier to send us an email and we so appreciate your time, thoughtfulness and generosity. They often feel like answered prayers on difficult days.

Thank you Michelle L, Kate C, Lynn R, Tania K, Steve U, Kate R, the Golden Archer, and the folks at Velocity for sending us packages, letters or postcards. You guys are the bomb.

And ever/always a shout out to Sandy and Gerry for sending us the essential weekly mail drops that provide our food along the way… The added articles and homemade snacks are always warmly appreciated.

“If you have never seen them unpacking a clown car, I cannot explain to you this state of constant arrival.”
– Groucho

“Turn to yourselves rather than to your Gods or to your idols. Find what hides in yourselves; bring it to the light; show yourselves!”
― Hakim Bey

Sandy the Salamander

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Every time I see a salamander I think of my mom Sandy.

When I was growing up she became enchanted by a newt she found living in our greenhouse. Now I can’t see a little lizard-buddy without being reminded of her compassion for “all creatures great and small.”

The morning I took this shot was following a thunderstorm… we counted over 50 little salamanders on the trail in a few hours. They are as prolific as our slug-buddies in the NW.

“If you can expel it from your body in a fine mist, there is no need to dig a cat hole.”
– Harpo

Whitman Sez #3

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The smoke of my own breath,
Echoes, ripples, buzz’d whispers, love-root, silk-thread,
crotch and vine,
My respiration and inspiration, the beating of my heart, the
passing of blood and air through my lungs,
The sniff of green leaves and dry leaves, and of the shore and
dark-color’d sea-rocks, and of hay in the barn,
The sound of the belch’d words of my voice loos’d to the
eddies of the wind,
A few light kisses, a few embraces, a reaching around of arms,
The play of shine and shade on the trees as the supple boughs
wag,
The delight alone or in the rush of the streets, or along the
fields and hill-sides,
The feeling of health, the full-noon trill, the song of me rising
from bed and meeting the sun.