News Trend Ranger Lately|Actual

creature comforts

With Joy And Wild Abandon?

Not gonna lie. He is getting up there in years. And his health is not what it used to be.

But his days are a sweet succession of

long, lazy naps,

patrols around the backyard,

delicious drinks of cold, refreshing water,

more long, lazy naps, and

a handful of dog treats, as made available by the humans for good behavior.

As usual, his routine builds to the predictable late-afternoon crescendo: walk time.

You may recall that years ago, Ranger and I fell into the habit of taking our daily exercise at 4:20 p.m. Somehow, this clever boy set his internal alarm clock to this hour, and I've been living with the consequences ever since.

Just yesterday afternoon, for example, we were both dozing on the couch as I pretended to watch TV. All was peace and quiet, except for the rain pitter-pattering on the windows, the lolling thrum of the dryer in the next room, and my dog's gentle snores.

Suddenly, without ceremony, Ranger popped open his eyes, climbed down off the neighboring sofa cushion, turned around to face me, and began to whine.

When Ranger whines, there is no ignoring him. He's a regular mosquito in your bedroom at night.

I peeped one eye open to glance at the clock.

4:19 p.m.

Mhmm. He's that good.

So off we went into the wet wilderness, and for the next 45 minutes, my dog wagged happily as he hunted up and down suburban sidewalks, greeted the other neighborhood dogs with glee, heeled smartly as we crossed streets, and generally behaved like an all-out gem.

Soaked and satisfied, we headed home, where I whipped up his deluxe dinner. We raised him on simple dry kibble but lately have come round to treating him to a variety of pricey dog foods, stirred together into a scrumptious stew.

Ranger ate every bite with relish, stepped outside for a long drink of cold water, then curled up in a delectable if damp ball on the couch. Though he kept a close eye on me, following along as I moved from room to room, Ranger slept like an angel for the rest of the evening.

In fact, he's snoring at my feet right now.

* * * * *

I don't know how much life is left for Ranger. But then, none of us know for sure, do we.

However, I am completely certain of one thing - Ranger is making the most out of every sweet moment of his life.

* * * * *

I have written literally dozens of stories about my boy, Ranger - here are a few of my favorites:

Road Trip Day 10: Howell, MI | a sweet visit with my mom

Sleeping Beauty | creature comforts

With Joy And Wild Abandon | a dog on the beach

Camping: It's All About The Memories | oh, but that photo is one of my favorites

Adventures In The Woods |  a muddy dog is a happy dog

My Homemade Macaroni And Cheese | in which Ranger is forced to wait

News Trend We Shall Overcome|Actual

source

We shall overcome

We shall overcome

We shall overcome someday

Oh, deep in my heart I do believe,

We shall overcome someday.

In honor of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr's life and legacy, we sang this song in church today.

As the words unfurled from my tongue and the music swirled about the room, my mind's eye was transported back to the days when he was alive.

The Lord will see us through

The Lord will see us through

The Lord will see us through someday

Oh, deep in my heart I do believe

The Lord will see us through someday.

Though I was only a little girl, I intuitively grasped the issues of his work.

Decent men and women were upset that the world did not treat them fairly.

Just because they were black.

Some whites were upset about it too.

I recall seeing pictures of the marches in magazines and on television, and I was deeply touched by what I saw.

We'll walk hand in hand

We'll walk hand in hand

We'll walk hand in hand someday

Oh, deep in my heart I do believe

We'll walk hand in hand someday.

These people, some genteel in their formal coats and dress shoes and stylish hats.

Other wearing the plain simple clothes of working folks.

Calmly, serenely, they walked in steady streams.

The sound of their footsteps often punctuated by spiritual songs

As if they were coming home from a morning at church.

You would never guess they were fighting against evil.

But even as a tiny child, I knew they were.

We are not afraid We are not afraid

We are not afraid today

Oh, deep in my heart I do believe

We are not afraid today.

And today, though we still have a ways to go before we completely overcome the dark powers of racial inequality, the truth is that we have come a long, long way since the days of Dr. King.

But sometimes, I wonder if we have lost track of the truth that racism is a spiritual battle.

Dr. King knew that it was.

He invoked the power of the pulpit and prayer in his pursuit of peace.

His speeches convey the lilting cadence of God talk.

His Biblical references and spiritual imagery flow freely.

And sometimes, I wonder if we have forgotten that.

So today, on this day that celebrates the life of this courageous and remarkable man, I pray that we remember and lift up equality as not a political issue or an ugly argument about white privilege.

I pray that we remember what Dr. King taught us - that racism is evil, and only God can truly set us free from its wicked grasp.

And I pray that someday, we will indeed live in peace.

We shall live in peace

We shall live in peace

We shall live in peace someday

Oh, deep in my heart I do believe

We shall live in peace someday.

* * * * *

More reflections on this special man:

MLK Day Musings

News Trend There Were Plenty Of Fish In These Seas|Actual

Our daily conversations are peppered with popular cliches:

Live authentically.

Tell it like it is.

Be all that you can be.

Today is the first day in the rest of your life.

While these sayings may contain some wisdom or at least a kernel of truth, I generally try to avoid them like the plague.

But after a lovely afternoon at the Seattle Aquarium last week, I was surprised to find that these old chestnuts were deliciously adequate to describe my visit.

* * * * *

Last Friday afternoon, my second- and fourth-born and I zoomed down from suburbia to our fair city's waterfront, where we ditched the car and strolled amidst a chaotic construction zone till we reached our destination.

^ Is that foggy horizon the spitting image of a January day in Seattle?

Yes. It is. We hustled out of the damp, drizzling rain and into the cozy warmth of the aquarium and came face to face first with this awesome sight

^ A massive saltwater aquarium full of native Puget Sound marine life, including a gigantic one-eyed rockfish and an underwater Seahawks football helmet. We strolled past the front glass at a moderate pace without taking much time to stop and stare.

Seen one silver fish, seen 'em all.

^ The next series of exhibits captured the variety and outrageous creativity of Pacific Northwest tide pool life.

Anemones, sea urchins, sea stars, mussels and other tempting specimens, all available for viewers to touch firsthand. And this was pretty cool, but honestly, we explore wild tide pools every summer during our camping trips to the Pacific coast.

So you know, been there, done that.

^ Following along a massive maze of rocky viewing areas, we were transported into an underwater landscape of coral reefs resplendent with tropical fish and sea life. Compared to our local species of gray, grayer and grayest, these flamboyant fishies were a breath of fresh air; we lingered especially long over the adorable little clown fish and the haunting white jellyfish.

We surely stopped to smell those roses.

* * * * *

At this point, the traffic flow directed us out of the main building and onto a covered pathway leading among a series of outdoor exhibits.And while I'm not going to complain too much, it's important to remember that we were stepping out into the chill of a rainy winter afternoon. Saturated from the beauty I'd witnessed inside, I wondered whether the remaining attractions could possibly live up to the adorableness we'd already seen in the comfort of the interior.

Little did I know that I was about to have my socks knocked off.

Outside live the marine mammals:

Northern fur seals.

Harbor seals.

And four of the most adorable sea otters you could possibly imagine.

And even on this damp and dreary day, they were forever in motion:

Swimming

Diving

Cavorting

Eating and

Playfully chasing each other round and round

For almost an hour, we stood and watched, immune to the shivering cold, transfixed by the joy and merriment of these adorable beasts.So caught up in the moment were we that our cameras remained in our pockets, our eyes riveted on the animals' antics.

We were like kids in a candy store, and hands down, these were our favorite moments of the trip.

As we hiked back to the car, I thought how my visit had grown exponentially more satisfying with each new attraction; the payoff of the last exhibits being infinitely more rewarding than the first.

And I realized that even though I had fully enjoyed the early sights of our visit, we had definitely saved the best for last.

P.S. If you didn't find it, the underwater Seahawks helmet is visible in the second photo from the top. Counting from the left, starting with the woman in red and her child in white, look between the fifth and sixth people. At the height of their heads, the deep blue helmet sits on a rock.

News Trend Priyanka And Me Again|Actual

On a day full of goods and bads, rights and wrongs, ups and downs, I found myself so spun around and flustered that I momentarily lost track of who I am and what I stand for.

Then, this little gem landed on my Facebook timeline.

And in an instant, I remembered.

Thank you, Nat, for posting the picture.

And thank you, Priyanka, for shining with a light so pure and true that everyone around you can see the truth.

Life is for loving, and that's that.

* * * * *

Read another story about my sunny little friend:

Priyanka And Me

* * * * *

And if you like, delve into the stories from all my adventures with the little princesses in India:

Under The Same Sun

Indian Princesses

Art Is Art

Puzzles

Primary Colors

A Meal To Remember

Do Hard Things

Rooftop Supper

Getting There

Trust Me, This Will Work

On The Balcony

At The Market

Content

Water And the Word

Sanctuary

Walks In The Sun

Playing With Sticks

Indian Sunset

Charminar: The Mosque And The Monument

Charminar: The Shops

Full Circle

Oh So Special

Together

Three Fantastical Deserts

Three Things About India

News Trend Vast And Beautiful Mysteries Of Life|Actual

Just moments ago, Ranger and I stomped in the front door on return from our daily walk, and we have quite an adventure to share.

We were late getting started today. I was out running errands until after five, so Ranger was more than ready to go when I returned. I dropped my groceries on the counter, changed my shoes, and off we went.

In other nature news from my house today, my amaryllis burst forth in bloom.

It's only fair to say that Ranger waited patiently for me. My fourth-born, who was napping on the couch with our boy while I was gone, did mention that at one point in the afternoon, Ranger got up, looked at her, and offered a lukewarm whine. She hushed him and he obediently lay back down. Then she checked the time. 4:31 p.M. Not bad.

Darkness was settling in as we crossed the foot bridge through the ravine behind the school and came upon my secret place.

Well, yes. My original plan was for this phenomenon to take place in time for Christmas. So like a month ago. But really. Who's counting.

Okay, so it's really not that secret. The foot bridge leads to an administrative outpost for the adjacent high school. Tucked into the woods, this rectangular, out-of-sight office building is surrounded by a paved lane that wraps around three sides - short, long short, and then leads back out to the main school campus. By late Friday afternoon, this secluded area is always deserted and quiet.

Today, Ranger and I hopped off the foot bridge, same as always, and began our journey around the back of the building.

As usual, Ranger was working the full extent of his fifty-foot lead, wandering back and forth across the lane, sniffing the landscaping around the secret building on our left, or the wild perimeter of the woods to our right.

I suddenly noticed two unfamiliar women up ahead, standing in the lane on the long side of the building, about ten paces ahead of us. They turned round to face us and spoke in greatly exaggerated but utterly undiscernable whispers.

I had no idea what they were trying to say.

Instinctively, I began to coil Ranger's rope, slowly increasing my control over him in an uncertain situation, and he hunted obliviously on.

As I moved a few steps closer, the women repeated their message and with a burst of adrenaline, I understood.

"There's an owl up here in the lawn."

Oh, good gracious.

In my book, there is no bad time for nature to burst forth in glory and knock my beauty-seeking socks off. This profound mystery took place before my very eyes today, and I'm grateful indeed.

For years, in the wee-est hours of the night, I've listened with my heart beating out of my chest to the majestic calls of an unseen owl in my back woods. But never have I seen one of these noble predators. And knowing how elusive these nocturnal hunters can be, it never even occurred to me to dream of seeing one.

The long, back length of the secret building is not lit, which was good news for the owl but bad news for us, as we strained our eyes to make him out. But one of my new companions noticed a movement.

"Oh, he just flew up into that tree!"

Turning this way and that, we strained to see the bird's silhouette as he perched in the branches of the fifteen-foot tree planted right up against the building, but I still couldn't make him out.

We quietly stepped along the dark lane, hoping to find an angle that would allow us to catch sight of him.

I think what I noticed first was the quiet shudder of the tree as the feathered beast pushed off against it.

What I saw sent chills over every inch of my body.

An enormous, ghostly white specter passed almost directly over our heads.

An utterly silent flap, flap of powerful wings swiftly propelled the bird over the lane and into the waiting woods.

And, expertly maneuvering its wings just so, the owl landed with speedy but soundless perfection on a tall tree branch, just beyond our line of sight.

My impromptu companions and I gasped with delight.

We stood for a long moment, reminding each other of what we had just seen, as if none of us could believe it herself.

Then we parted company, strangers no more.

Ranger, for his part, had not noticed a thing. And the owl had not seemed to care one bit about him.

We finished our walk, Ranger happily sniffing as usual, and me contemplating the vast and beautiful mysteries of life.

* * * * *

For more stories about my owl, read these:

Burung Hantu

The Third Time

This Powerful Gift

News Trend Burung Hantu|Actual

In the Malay language, the word "owl" is spoken asburung hantu.

Directly translated, the words mean, "ghost bird."

In this dimly-lit, late-afternoon photo of the secret building,

my owl's favorite tree is the one on the left.

I saw my owl again.

On our usual walk today, Ranger and I headed across the foot bridge toward the secret building where we saw him the first time, at pretty much the same hour of twilight..

We rounded the back corner of the building, and I strained my eyes in the falling light to see if I could make him out on the lawn where we found him on Friday.

Nope. No owl in sight.

Sigh. I've been hoping all week to encounter him again but you know what they say about lightning striking twice in the same place.

It rarely happens.

So I let Ranger continue to lead me around the curve of the lane, trying to be not disappointed.

Just to be sure, though, my eyes scanned the tree - actually three narrow trees, planted side by side by side against the back of the building - where the owl had alighted on our first meeting.

And there he was.

A pale shadow in the deepening darkness.

Just a few meters off the ground.

Utterly and perfectly motionless.

I gasped inwardly and stared.

While I could not make out his face - and he certainly gave me no hints - I am pretty sure that owl stared at me as I slowly and carefully tiptoed past his perch, my oblivious red dog trailing happily behind me.

When we cleared what I perceived to be his air space, I turned back to take another long look at my owl. Honestly, I was hoping against hope that he would fly again, moving swiftly and silently into the nearby woods.

But he didn't. He just sat stone till, enjoying, I presume, the emerging darkness that brings him fully to life.

And I couldn't help but think, as the Malay do, that my white owl looked just like a pale phantom in the night sky..

Burung hantu. Ghost bird.

The very idea sent delicious shivers down my spine.

And I hope very much that I will see my owl again soon.

* * * * *

For more stories about my owl, read these:

Vast and Beautiful Mysteries Of Life

The Third Time

This Powerful Gift

News Trend Simple Life|Actual

Lean,

Simple.

Pure.

This minimalist, mostly abstract work is everything that Impressionism - natural and fresh and filled with dappled light - is not.

Yet both styles of art sing to me.

And in both, I see the world.

Because both are bursting with life.

Watching people.

People watching people.

Watching cowboy Elvis.

Irregular orange rectangles

Stacked blue squares.

 I am seriously thinking about climbing them.

 Yellow fades to purple

Glass fractures light.

 Golden squares on squares.

 Geometry unleashed.

I never tire of contemplating this simple life.