What IS that????

 

I am a solo hiker most of the time. One of the places I go is into a mile square of uninhabited land with two valleys, a few caves and two streams. One of the hikes to my favorite rock shelter and ice cave is a 3 mile round trip from my back door. 

The valleys typically do not have cell service. This is my neighbor's land held in a family trust. The only time there are humans on it now is during deer hunting season and perhaps turkey season.

The one brother who farmed the land died in an accident involving an old John Deere 5 wheel UTV. The guy that was with him survived and tried to call 911. He couldn't get reception. Of course that was 2005, however my phone dings often and tells me a message "No Voice Service Available" when I am in the valleys.
I've been riding solo or exploring this land by foot since 1997. 

With my last check up and some tests done, I was dx'd with severe osteoporosis [I don't feel it!] and there was a question about an anxiety attack I'd had. Was it anxiety or A-Fib or something else. I was required to wear a heart monitor for two weeks. 

The monitor showed that I had a normal heart with no issues. 

So my doctor asked me if I was still hiking solo in isolated areas. I told her yes. She asked that I not go anywhere without cell phone coverage and always lay out a path and let someone know by calling them when I leave and when I get back.

I rolled my eyes at her and sighed. 

I read the book last year called When You Find My Body: The Disappearance of Geraldine LarGay on the Appalachian Trail. She had a locator device that she never activated because needed to be synced with her cell phone and her husband said it was complicated, so she left it with him. In short, had Geraldine had her PLB activated, she wouldn't have died.

So I had been considering a PLB for a while and had been doing comparisons and reading reviews. I didn't want a fancy gadget so I settled on PLB1 rescueME. Just flip up the antennae and push the button.

I admit it. I won't likely change my hiking habits in the near future. I am a wanderer and explorer. I'm comfortable out there. I'm at ease. 

This is just a safety device that would help me in case I got into a scenario where I needed to be rescued. It won't protect me and it won't save me from an injury. 

I do generally write down my intentions on a pad of paper and leave it in the vehicle when I am at the Reserve or other places. I practice safety when I hike. But things can happen. And I don't always stick with my plans. 

When I opened the box and held it up for hubby to see he asked me:

What IS that?

I replied in the simplest terms I could.

"Honey, it is my Help Me I've Fallen and I Can't Get Up! device!"

This may sound a bit like overkill to some folks but think about it. I don't have someone to go with me 95% of the time. I admit it, I am older and perhaps no wiser. But if I really get into a situation, I don't have to depend on cell service. And that is worth it to me.

Oddness

I may be in one of those moods. What kind of mood? 

Gosh I really don't know. I walked out yesterday morning and watched the sun rise over what used to be the Merry Meadow. It belongs to the neighbor and we no longer brush hog it or fence it for pasture. At one time it was nice to walk through that well groomed pasture. I think there were about 10 acres of it. Now it is a nightmare to walk through unless the snow has pressed down the weeds and grasses.
Still, the morning sunrise is still beautiful to watch.

The Teddy and his lonely tea party. 
I spray painted the cups and sauces.
They were purple.

My husband's Aunt sent us this huge decoration for our house. I don't have the heart to tell her that it is way too large for my tiny house. I chuckled at the word 'Family' on it. 

Let's just say that I don't get the Warm Fuzzies with the word Family.

I get what it is supposed to mean though.
I was sorting through my mini boney dinosaurs to figure out which ones I'd keep and which ones I'd send to my youngest grandson. I set the ones I wanted to keep for photos on the mini bench in front of the place I stashed the Family sign for the time being.

[I have no idea where I would actually put it. Really...I don't! 

I'm thinking though it would 

make a nice frame without the letters to use for a 

flat layout and still life photography... hmmm....]

Other meandering thoughts. My flower garden is going great guns and it will be time to start collecting seeds for next year's gardens. The barrel I had in the middle of the plantings is now surrounded and one has to peek through the towering plants to see what is on the spool top I set on the barrel.

The Tree Ent looks

pleased.

Think so?

The tiny brass car with the hen and chick in it looks like it is doing well. I have to remember to reach in and water that and the ones in the tea cups....

Maybe I'm feeling the ... well, I don't want to call it stress... but perhaps it is stress...

The stress of worrying about something I can't really do much about. The worry about the coming winter. The worry about world events. 

Perhaps what causes my feelings of unrest come from something deeper. The cost of Isolation and being careful. 
The feeling of waiting for that Other Shoe to Drop.

Sometimes I go to do something and I just stop. I look around and feel as if I've lost my way a little bit. I stand and wait. Then I think of something I should be doing. And of course then I do something else.

Distracted and disjointed.

I sure hope this oddness passes.

I think I'll take Charlie for a stroll now. Unless I should be doing something else.

[Oh...and if my kids read this they'll get the reference to Family. It isn't about them, they will fully understand why I chuckle at the word.]

 

Perseverance

I keep going back and it isn't because of the beauty of the creek.

It isn't always beautiful.

Just over a week ago it was rather dull looking and choked with weeds. Yet I still came.
I still sat by the trickle of water and just opened my mind.

I often go by myself with no dogs. No other people. I sometimes prefer it that way. The creek becomes something else when I invite others to explore it. I do enjoy it, but I enjoy keeping the creek secrets to myself also.

Sometimes I just stand there and do nothing.

I simply admire those familiar rocks and trees. These places that bring me great comfort and at times sadness too.

Yesterday was one of those days that the creek felt like a secret place.

The air was heavy, warm, and humid.
The creek was cold and refreshed from the latest 2" of rain.

A fog hovered above the creek.
It was dark and the trees were silent and still.

I had a gambit of emotions run through my head as I carefully picked my way along the rocks.

When I stand still and let the forest and creek surround me, I feel small and invisible, yet large and powerful, and meek and humble at the same time.

I simply stand and am amazed.

I reached the spot where the trail heads back home and glanced up to see the lonely Teddy Bear that I'd found after the flash flood.

He simply looked so lonely.

I posed him on a rock and took this shot in the heavy fog.

Suddenly my Creek walk took on another feeling.
The feeling of sadness and loss.
The Brown Teddy Bear looked and embodied so much loss and emotion in this single photo that I was stunned.

He had been swept away with another Teddy Bear in a huge flood and had been found.
He'd survived mud, rocks, rushing waters...

He was Hope
He was Love
He was Lost
He was Sadness
and
He was Perseverance...

Goodbye Morris.

Here is Charlie helping me, sort of. He is actually just playing in the yard and amusing himself while I dig out the hostas from around the pine trees in the yard.

Those hostas needed thinning a few years ago. Yesterday afternoon was when I decided to do it.
Well, there is a reason behind it.
Morris left us in February and I couldn't bury him. I know. It sounds disgusting and strange, but there you go. We froze him.

Morris always without fail ran to these two trees and peed on the hostas or the tree itself every single morning and night. It simply was his personal place.

I wanted to spruce up that section of yard anyway. I was tired of the same old thing year after year. The hostas look great in the spring and so tired and crummy by late summer. Perhaps a nice hosta and two colors of impatiens would look good.

There was several minutes of crushing heart ache as I placed Morris in the ground. I held his head and cried like a baby, wailing just loud enough to make Charlie cry. It is with the final act of kindness and deepest love that I placed him in his favorite spot.
I'll never quite get over Morris. I never have gotten over the other pet losses I've had over the years. Each dog has always take a special part of my heart with them.

Goodbye buddy, I hope to see you on the other side.

I hope you found Badger and the two of you are reunited.