Photo Journal

0possum

… beauty lies even in humble, perhaps ugly things, and the ideal, which bypasses or improves on nature, may not be truly beautiful in the end.

Albrecht Durer

In the tall unmown grass, the little opossum approached my window.

Snuffling and chewing, he ate while I watched, and a tick nibbled on his ear.

His tiny hand-feet almost danced across the lawn as he wandered back into the woods.

Sometimes small things lead to great joys.

Shmuel Yosef Agnon

I had been home for two days after a long road trip. I was a little tired; a little lonely. I was staring out the window in the early morning, when a movement caught my eye. An animal, larger than a squirrel, but smaller than a cat, appeared from under the hemlocks, sauntering across the back lawn. I couldn’t tell what it was at first. It had a shiny grey coat. It had big, beautiful black eyes. Its head was down, nose to the ground, rear end high and it was lightly stepping through the wet grass. At first, I thought it was a woodchuck, but when it came close, I realized it was an opossum. I don’t think I’ve ever seen one so clearly - but then, I never see them in daylight. Usually, I see their shining eyes in the headlights when I come home at night. They always seem creepy and ugly then, sneaking around in the dark. I didn’t know they did that because they see better at night. I didn’t know much really. I didn’t know they can climb trees, using their tails to help grip the branches or keep them from falling. I didn’t know they are not vulnerable to snake venom, so they can prey on poisonous snakes. I didn’t know they eat many garden pests. I didn’t know their back “feet” are more like hands, with opposable thumbs. I didn’t know what good company they could be to a lonely traveler in the early morning. What a blessing.

If you want to learn more about opossums, click here.

Thank you so much for being here.

And later that day, another blessing…a peaceful moment by the lake as the sun dropped through the scattered clouds.

A brief pause

Rejoice with your family in the beautiful land of life.

Albert Einstein

This picture was taken at the Secret Garden at Grand Hotel on Mackinac Island.

I visited the island with my sisters and our mom this week, as a celebration of my mom’s 80th birthday. It has been so much fun being together, laughing, playing games and talking for so much more time than we usually have with just the four of us. It didn’t leave a lot of time for writing, however, so I will keep this post short.

I hope you have a wonderful week! Thank you for being here!

Mackinac Bridge, a five mile long suspension bridge that connects Michigan’s Upper and Lower Peninsulas.

Camping in the Rain

A mind that is stretched by a new experience can never go back to its old dimensions.

Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr.

A view of the start of Appalachia at sunset

The thing about

camping in the rain

is that when the rain stops

you go outside-

and you are lighter,

the world is lighter,

the birds are singing again

and a little joy creeps back

into your heart

and you walk the muddy path

splashing just a little bit more

than strictly necessary

smiling like you never saw the sun

until just today

when it pushed its way

past the heavy clouds

and shined.

Rain-soaked White Cave Path at Mammoth Cave National Park, where my boots got muddy, and I smiled to be back outside.

Tall grass flattened by rushing rainwater on the hillside next to the path to the historic cave entrance at Mammoth Cave

A journey is a person in itself; no two are alike. And all plans, safeguards, policing, and coercion are fruitless. We find that after years of struggle that we do not take a trip; a trip takes us.

John Steinbeck

This trip was not what I expected. I expected quiet and peace and trails and warm nights reading by a campfire. What I got was a lot of rain. Thunder. Tornado and hail warnings. More rain. Flooded campgrounds. Then, periodically, the sun would come out and I would get out and go. It made every moment I spent outside really special. In Arkansas, I got to experience the warm steam rising from the ground at Hot Springs National Park on a cold day. In Tennessee, I got to run along the Mississippi River. In Alabama, I got to hike with my sister, Rita at a beautiful little trail system near her home. In Kentucky, I ventured into a deep cave (see last week’s post here) and came out with a resolution to face my fears instead of avoiding them, and I’m excited about that shift in my attitude. The trip wasn’t what I expected at all; but on reflection, I think it was exactly what I needed it to be.

Now I am home in Michigan, where all the spring flowers are blooming early. The air is cool and crisp in the morning, and the neighborhood animals (and the neighbors!) are making me feel welcome. I’m so happy to be here. Thank you for being here with me. See you next week.

a mass of lilies of the valley cover the ground in the woods near my home