Category Archives: nature

Guests make thank offerings.

Roger and Izzy had to leave early morning to catch a flight in Los Angeles this afternoon. When you are traveling with a toddler you need to give extra time for stopping proactively at places like parks, and time for unexpected events of various sorts. We mostly said our good-byes to them last night. So they weren’t there at breakfast when the remaining six of us gathered for the last time.

During the months that I’ve looked forward to this family time at the cabin, my mind has been buzzing with ideas of things I’d like to say, topics I wanted to discuss with my college-age  grandchildren while we were together day in and day out. I didn’t really trust those ideas, because I’m not the kind of person who brings up topics for discussion! The phrase “some spiritual gift” vaguely expressed what I wanted to give in person, separate from my ongoing prayers for them.

As the week went on, the fantasy faded, and I just enjoyed them immensely, and loved listening to them and being with them. We got to know each other a little better. Philosopher’s girlfriend C. I had never met before; I quickly fell in love with her.

This morning I discovered that the new prayer book from St. Tikhon’s Monastery includes the “Akathist Hymn of Thanksgiving: Glory to God for All Things.” As I read this prayer alone on the deck, it dawned on me that sharing it might be a kind of “spiritual gift.” After Nate blessed the food, and everyone was beginning to eat, I read several portions, beginning with these:

“I was born a weak, defenseless child, but Your angel spread his wings over my cradle to defend me. From birth until now, Your love has illumined my path, and has wondrously guided me towards the light of eternity. From birth until now the generous gifts of Your Providence have been marvelously showered upon me. I give You thanks, with all who have come to know You, who call upon Your Name.”

“O Lord, how lovely it is to be Your guest. Breeze full of scents — mountains reaching to the skies — waters like a boundless mirror, reflecting the sun’s golden rays and the scudding clouds. All nature murmurs mysteriously, breathing depths of Your tenderness. Birds and beasts of the forest bear the imprint of Your love. Blessed are you, mother earth, in your fleeting loveliness, which wakens our yearning for happiness that will last forever in the land where, amid beauty that grows not old, rings out the cry: Alleluia!”

This thankful spirit was expressed by the three teenagers who wrote in the cabin guest book before they left for home. Excerpts:

“The cabin is such a sweet place to simply be, and I am so grateful for the opportunity to do that with so many people that I love.”

“I’ve never seen so many stars so clearly, nor have I been able to see the Milky Way. The Sierras are a wonderful place to be! …This time being up here, I could really take in the smell of the pines, marvel at the granite domes as the sun sets on them, enjoy the clear blue water of the lake, the cool nights and breezy evenings… and enjoy being out in the less-altered land of the beautiful world God gave us….”

“There is so much peace at this cabin to the point where it feels like an oasis. When I figured out that there was no service at the cabin I was nervous. I quickly realized, though, that having no connection to the rest of the world is part of what makes this place so special.”

“You have brought me into life as if into an enchanted paradise. We have seen the sky like a chalice of deepest blue, where in the azure heights the birds are singing. We have listened to the soothing murmur of the forest and the melodious music of the streams. We have tasted fruit of fine flavor and the sweet-scented honey. We can live very well on your earth. It is a pleasure to be your guest.”

“I see Your heavens resplendent with stars. How glorious You are, radiant with light! Eternity watches me by the rays of the distant stars. I am small, insignificant, but the Lord is at my side: Your right arm guides me wherever I go.”

If you look closely at the railing in the second photo from the top of this post, you might be able to see the green fencing that has been installed over it, for the protection of little ones and the peace of mind of their elders. Lora could freely run around in and out of the cabin at will, and she did. I held her up above the railing so she could throw seeds down to the chipmunks that scurry around under the deck.

There have been lots of changes and improvements at the cabin since the last time I was here, including a new generator to replace the WWII veteran, and a new propane stove. The old one I think was the original stove installed in the cabin when it was built in the 1950’s. The thermostat was broken, the burners often had to be lit with a match, and the oven door would fall on your feet if you didn’t hold it up when looking inside.

Pearl made good use of it all week to make fabulous meals including shakshouka, a dish I’d never heard of. She had eaten it in Israel, and brought all the ingredients up to the cabin to try making it herself for the first time. We ate it for breakfast, including pita bread she made from scratch that morning.

And “the kids” made dinner twice. An addictive dish Izzy contributed was rice cooked with butter, lime, and cilantro. This experience of having other people cooking for me every day was pretty wonderful!

Last night Nate and Philosopher were gone fishing for a few hours, and they came back with six rainbow trout. This made Lora extra happy and she hugged herself again. The trout were featured at breakfast this morning while we contemplated God’s providence.

On this departure day of my family, a huge blessing has been bestowed on me in the clarity that this prayer hymn provides about spiritual gifts. I felt and experienced and learned again what I had somewhat forgot, that the most precious gift we can give each other, out of that abundance that has been given to us, is LOVE.

“Glory to You, ceaselessly watching over me.
Glory to You for the encounters You arrange for me.
Glory to You for the love of parents, for the faithfulness of friends.
Glory to You for the humbleness of animals which serve me.
Glory to You for the unforgettable moments of life.
Glory to You for the heart’s innocent joy.
Glory to You for the joy of living, moving, and being able to return Your love.
Glory to You, O God, from age to age.”

(If you squint, you might see me walking in the middle of the picture.
Izzy took the shot on her way up Gumdrop.)

To think about the nature of lies.

“A lie seeks to make true something that has no true existence. It is an ‘alternate,’ make-believe universe to the one in which we live. Our desire for alternatives (and our fear of reality) are among the many motivations behind lies. It is revealing, however, to think about the nature of lies (which also reveals the nature of the truth). It is, at the very least, a matter of existence.”

“That which is true, is that which truly exists. As such, it is always its own strongest argument. If it truly exists, it will continue whether I believe in it or not. The truth does not require ideology. This carries the corollary of a lack of anxiety. If the truth abides, whether I believe it or not, then I am not bound to ‘make it so’ through the efforts of a culture war. It is, rather, for me to live it, to give thanks for it, and enjoy its fruit in the world.”

-Father Stephen Freeman, in this article: “‘Make It So!’ vs. ‘Let It Be!'”

Northwoods Prayer

This morning I woke in the northwoods of Idaho, at the home of my goddaughter Rosemary and her husband. I sat on their deck and watched the green aspen leaves as they quietly fluttered and twirled against patches of blue sky background above.

Unfamiliar birds squawked and twittered in the neighborhood, glorifying God. And I found this prayer in my prayer book, that asks God to teach us to use our voices to pray as well. The prayer itself is good instruction.

“My Lord, I know not what to ask of thee. Thou alone knowest my need. Thou lovest me more than I know to love Thee. Father, I am thy servant: grant me all I dare not ask. I ask neither for a cross nor for comfort; I simply stand in thy presence. My heart is open to thee. Thou seest my needs, of which I myself am unaware. Look upon me and act toward me in accordance with thy mercy: smite and heal, cast down and raise up. In thy presence I stand, reverent and silent before thy holy will and thy judgments, to which I cannot attain. To thee I offer myself in sacrifice. I commend myself to thee. I have no desire except to fulfill thy will. Teach me to pray. Do thou thyself pray within me. Amen.”

-St. Philaret of Moscow

A story of creamcups and scouring pads.

The washcloth and the scouring pad were right there, and plenty of (salt) water, for cleaning up, but my grandson Scout and I didn’t need them for that, as our recent snacks had been eaten out of hand. We were at the third beach of that morning, earlier this week when he was down here by himself visiting all his grandparents.

Scouring Pad Alga

On the way we had traveled over “Wildflower Hill,” as I’d named it two weeks ago. Most of the April flowers had faded, but foxgloves were in bloom!

Our first stop at the coast was at my most frequently walked beach, where we spent the most time and effort around the adjoining lagoon, and climbing up and down the dunes.

Beach Wormwood

Our family and other homeschoolers used to play here 20 and 30 years ago. I found a few pictures showing us back then, when Kate was an infant:

Scout wanted to see the beaches that he’d gotten to know last summer, so next we went to one of those, where we noted the layers of different colors of sand, and the color of the ocean.

Yellow Sand Verbena

It was chilly and breezy, so we were glad to have our windbreakers. He was swimming in his borrowed jacket (but not in the ocean!), and I was squeezed into mine that I’ve outgrown, but they worked fine.

Creamcups

California Goldfields

At the last beach, after our snack, Scout wanted to explore “on the other side of those rocks,” and he soon came back to tell me it was urgent that I come, too, and see the tidepools.

I was so surprised. All the times I’ve been on that beach, and I never knew… It was the most interesting collection of creatures I’d ever seen in tidepools. And all around, new plants as well. Thousands of mussels grew crammed together on the rocks.

California Mussels
limpets
Gooseneck Barnacles
Lots of Feather Boa Kelp still rooted to its rocks.
Giant Green Anemones hiding in sand.
Turkish Washcloth
Black Pine Seaweed
Rockweed

Besides the plants and animals whose names I’ve mentioned in captions here, we also saw Black Oystercatchers, Bee Plant, Dogwinkles, Sea Thrift and Silverweed. These many evocative names began to swim in my brain and tried to form themselves into a fantastical story… but in the end all I could extract was the vision of me at the sink with those seaweed dishwashing tools, the Turkish Washcloth and the Scouring Pad Alga. We picked off the real live leaves of various kelps to bring home; I’ve yet to make soup out of it.


It was quite a stimulating day. Scout and I shared the feeling that our minds were buzzing, our hearts full with the excitement of such life and beauty lying quietly under a few inches of water or briefly exposed, shining with the glory of God. He’s already planning his next visit to this spot, and how his mother must join us to share the joy. Sounds good to me!