Tag Archives: parks

The good and the bad.

One of the Feather Trees

I know we are instructed as Christians to give thanks in everything, but there are things that we can’t honestly give thanks for. I’ll start with one of those Bad events:

While my family was here, we had the unhappy discovery that the fairy house creations at the creek had been vandalized, and Ivy’s beautiful sign torn down. We could tell it wasn’t just city maintenance workers reducing the fire hazard or anything like that, because although the dry grass had been chopped down a lot, it wasn’t a thorough job. And there was graffiti on the far side of the creek, along with gnomes thrown into the stream and various items disappeared altogether. The fairy who had through many seasons hovered overhead by means of fishing line, was not to be seen.

My gnome before.

 

My granddaughter found her sign and hung it up in a less conspicuous place. Probably the presence of the sign had drawn the attention of the vandals to the opportunity to destroy something. We were both very sad about this, and angry. But I don’t think Ivy has given up; I won’t be surprised if the next time she is visiting down here I find myself collaborating on a rehabilitation of the fairy village.

In the meantime, on her recent visit, Ivy came bearing my own garden gnome, meticulously painted so that he is better than new.


Starting with the refurbished gnome, I have only Good things to report.

Near a different creek that runs through my neighborhood, is a lovely city park that is Ever Green with soccer fields and Coast Redwood trees. Pathfinder and I went there with his nephews on the way back from the grieved fairy house village, and the three of them threw a football to each other for a while. I walked around taking pictures of them and of the trees that have only grown more majestic over the 36 years since we first visited them a block from our house. What a blessing they are.

On my own property, my only dahlia has bloomed for the first time. After I had forgotten planting it and before I noticed it happening it was fully open, and startled me.

Decades ago I had quite a few dahlias, but there wasn’t really room for them, so I gave them away. For a recent birthday a friend gave me a dahlia tuber, which I’d first planted in a pot, where it barely survived. So I planted it in the front garden, where it is a Good.

And the final great Good for today is Queen Anne’s Lace, growing quite mysteriously and so welcome at the corner of my own driveway. Over the years several other species have volunteered themselves among the oenethera there, mostly arriving from the garden on the other side of the driveway. This is the first wildflower that has traveled all the way from the creek path. I can hardly believe my good fortune at the bestowal of this beloved plant. May it ever increase!

I grow younger again in January.

In spite of being only 95% recovered from my illness (a wild guess at a statistic), I started something new today. Pippin and the Professor gave me a Christmas present of a year’s membership in the local regional parks agency. It includes other benefits besides free parking, but my unwillingness to waste that part made me want to use it soon and often. I’d thought that I’d need to drum up a walking companion in order to get myself moving in that direction, but today when the afternoon suddenly opened up, I decided to go on my own to the most familiar of the parks. I’ve written about this one before, most memorably just after my husband’s death almost five years ago.

It’s winter, and I knew there would be a lot of grayness on this mostly gray day; I was (surprisingly) surprised at how much there was to see that wasn’t drab. Some of the regional parks I will visit have no parking fee at all, but this one is $7! So it was a good one to start with, to make me feel the monetary value of my gift — which is surely the least part.

It’s not a huge park, but it is crisscrossed with several trails and I never have a map. In the past it seems we often end up back at the parking lot before we are feeling done, so I was trying to make the widest loop I could around the perimeter of the space. I think I did okay. Where a huge bay tree hangs over the creek, I took this picture in which I already can’t tell where the lines lie between the sky and the tree and the reflections.

In the last several months “everything,” most lately the attack of who knows what viruses, has conspired to make me feel my mortality. Not that I thought I was near death, but in just one year’s time I seemed to have become several years older, weaker and flabbier. I know youth is relative to a point, but I thought my youth might have died. It felt very good to be walking briskly in the fresh air and to be right there under the sky when the sun came out from time to time. It was shining nearly horizontally in my face or my camera lens when it did. Frogs croaked, and towhees hopped about in the bushes.

Have I mentioned that I also put my back “out” just before my battle with the viruses? I couldn’t even do anything about that for weeks, but last Friday I did see a chiropractor and am now on my way to getting back my less flabby self. The weather is of the sort that makes me want to curl up indoors with a book and a blanket, but I have had my warning, and I am going to fight against my tendency to the sedentary lifestyle.

Not far from the descent to the parking lot, I was on a ridge from which I could see across the road below to the vineyards on the slopes beyond. And on my drive home — only ten minutes! — I noticed workers pruning the vines.

January is usually somewhat depressing for me, but this year I have been distracted from the bleak weather by other things that one might think more depressing. It didn’t work that way; I was continually reminded of God’s presence and had so many occasions of joy and contentment, it was obvious that they were pure gift. And this Christmas present from my children — it is a gentle prod to do the things they know I will love. I wonder if I can squeeze in one more park before the end of January?