Browned

It's been a strange year weather-wise.  It seems as if our weather's been weeks ahead of the calendar since the winter.  We had hardly any snow or sub-zero temperatures in January or February. We experienced 80-degree days in March.  We endured unseasonably cold weather in May. And in June, there was hardly a drop of rain, causing the grass to slowly become brown and sad-looking and crinkly under foot.  As Mother Nature has parched our area, Larry and I have taken to the watering can, giving plants and shrubs around our condo regular cool drinks.  Usually, we hardly have to water at all in early summer because Mother Nature seems to perfectly time the rain.  But not so this year. Now that mid-July is here, it makes me wonder what we will experience by autumn.  Some of our trees and shrubs are so stressed that they're already changing color or losing some leaves. This drought is have worrisome and even catastrophic effects on our farms.  Water and locally grown food are truly precious commodities, and in a drought, they become even more apparent and important.  Nature continues to astound me with its power, its ever-changing beauty and its mysteries.  I remind myself in this browned state that there is much to enjoy every day in nature, no matter the season, no matter the weather, no matter the color of our summer - green or brown.

Something for Everyone

My friend Rene showed me some PVC pipe pieces recently that she had bought at Delaney's, a local surplus store complex.  This mid-summer conversation about Delaney's took me back to mid-summers so many years ago when, as a child, I'd accompany my mom and dad to Delaney's, usually because Dad needed some type of tool to complete a project at home.  While Dad looked in earnest for the item he needed, Mom and I would circulate throughout the big store and seek out treasures.  Delaney's has always been one of those places where there's something for everyone.  From packaged snack treats to barrels of shoes to bins of children's books to shelves of tools, Delaney's was always a treasure trove in this child's eyes.  I recall Mr. Delaney sitting behind the counter and answering customers' questions, mainly about prices because nothing in the store had a price tag.  I really liked Mr. Delaney and I was fascinated  that he could quickly calculate in his head the price of any item that crossed his counter.  Those were great mid-summer adventures. I was grateful that Rene reminded me of them.

All's Fair

Larry and I visited our county fair today, first to work in a tent sponsored by my employer and then to enjoy all of the great sights, sounds and tastes that a county fair offers.  I love our Sauk County Fair.  It epitomizes the rural spirit, presented in a setting that's appropriate for all ages.  I like to look at the farm animals that are lovingly cared for by children and youth.  I like to tour the display buildings featuring floral arrangements, crafts and baked goods bearing blue and red ribbons.  I like to walk through the midway with its carnival games and thrilling rides.  I like to hear the concerts in the grandstand.  I like to eat something delicious from the 4-H stand.  At the county fair, I get to see friends from a lifetime of living in my hometown.  There's been a lot of talk lately with the passing of Andy Griffith about small-town values and the joys of rural living.  I felt very much today at our county fair as if I was happily living in my own Mayberry experience and, all of a sudden, I realized I was whistling that old "Andy Griffith Show" tune.

No Complaint Zone

I read something interesting online about a Kansas City pastor who challenged his congregation to go 21 days (the amount of time it reportedly takes to develop a new habit) without complaining.  He even handed out special bracelets to remind his parishioners to live complaint-free lives.  Whew!  Would I be up to that challenge?  It's pretty easy to let a complaint slip every now and again, from wishing it would rain to lamenting that it's too hot to barking about how unfair something is.  Then again, if I'm aiming to live a life of gentleness and gratitude, what better time than now to start my own 21-day challenge?  So, here goes my experiment.  At the end of 21 days (July 31), I'll report back in as to how I think I've done.  I don't have a special bracelet to remind me, so I'll use my wedding ring as a prompt instead.  Each time I look at my ring during the next three weeks, it'll remind me to curb my complaining.  Wish me luck!

For the Birds

While listening to bird songs on the Internet, I realized one recent day before the prolonged heat set in that I was hearing a house finch on my computer, as well as outside the open window.  It was fun to hear the call and response between the two, wondering if the bird outside was somehow attempting to communicate with the bird inside my computer.  In my quest to become more knowledgeable about our area's feathered friends this summer, I've not limited my education to their sounds.  I've also been working to identify more of them by sight.  During one evening walk at Devil's Lake State Park, I saw some shiny bluish-black birds with brown heads in a little cluster on the edge of a wooded area.  Could they be brown-headed cowbirds, I wondered? I'll never be an ornithologist, but I'm enjoying my attempts to expand my understanding and identification of the many delightful birds that break through the everyday sounds with their glorious song.

Where I Belong

Local author Ken Lange wrote in his book A Naturalist's Journey about his love for the Baraboo Hills.  "When we have formed their acquaintance, we become attached to them," Ken writes -- a quote attributed to William Canfield, an early Sauk County historian.  Re-reading Ken's book recently and, in particular the Canfield quote, has been reassuring to me, for I have had a lifelong love affair with the Baraboo Hills, this place I call home.  I often say to Larry that I can't imagine being able to live anywhere else, for the Baraboo Hills, the Sauk Prairie and Devil's Lake State Park are just as much a part of me as my DNA. We likely all have places that are important to us, where we feel we are our real selves and where we just know that we belong.  I believe that the more we interact with those special places, the more our lives will be balanced and healthy.

Have Fun. I Did.

I heard a woman speak recently about her deceased husband.  During her remarks about him, she showed the audience a small notebook in which her husband had written down information about their finances and investments to help her after he was gone.  He only wrote in the first few pages, leaving the majority of the book blank.  On the last page of his writings, there were only four words written across the top: Have Fun. I Did.  Hearing those four simple words got me to thinking about how I live my life.  Will I be able to say at the end of it that I've had fun?  I certainly hope so.  Those words also made me think of a funny Steve Martin comedy skit from years ago. Martin said, while brilliantly playing his banjo, that the instrument just didn't lend itself to sad songs.  Then, he proceeded to try to sing one with dreary lyrics. The skit was hysterical and I recall laughing every time I heard it.  The question is:  How much do I sing that song instead of reciting the words that the husband had left as an enduring message for his wife?  As we live our lives and experience all that it has to offer -- some wonderful, some incredibly difficult, it's easy to cart around the banjo song's sad lyrics.  But I'm going to work very hard from now on to replace those words with Have Fun so that when it's all said and done, I'll be able to conclude it with I Did.