by Winding Pathways | Dec 19, 2015 | Reflections/Profiles, Wonderment
A couple of times each week I walk the nearly two mile circumference trail around Cedar Rapids’ Cedar Lake. It’s a great way to get exercise and watch a diversity of wildlife in the downtown area.
On Sunday, December 13, 2015 a near magical encounter occurred. Heavy rain was predicted for the afternoon so I planned my walk for late morning. Light drizzle was falling as I approached a parking lot surprisingly full on such a gloomy day. A woman was putting snacks and beverages on a picnic table. When I asked her if she was planning a winter picnic she replied, “Nope, you’ll see a bunch of runners on the trail. We’re raising money for a friend who has leukemia. He has limited health insurance and is having trouble paying medical bills. He’s not able to work and has two young children.”
Although she didn’t ask for a contribution, I handed her ten bucks and began a counter clockwise walk around the lake, just as a knot of runners was just finishing their first clockwise circuit and were enjoying snacks. They again set off running and soon I began meeting them on the trail.
The word was out. All had heard that a stranger in a blue raincoat had given $10. Every runner I passed smiled and said, “Thanks.” One woman stopped me and said, “Thanks for helping my brother.” Then, an older man stopped and said, “I want to shake your hand. You helped my son!”
Later in the day I thought how fortunate I was to have been able to give a tiny gift to help a man I didn’t know and be thanked by so many dedicated people. What a wonderful Christmas gift they were giving a dear friend of theirs and me, a stranger. Rich
by Winding Pathways | Nov 28, 2015 | Birds, Children/Play, Labyrinths, Nature, Travel/Columns, Wonderment
What fortune to have contacted Lisa Gidlow Moriarty who was constructing a labyirnth at Healing Waters Health Center in Hudson, WI. Rich and I joined the crew and after the lines were drawn using high technology of a bucket and rope and a tire iron to gouge the circuits, we placed rocks that had been hauled in. The concentric circuits quickly asserted themselves and the labyirnth was completed in no time at all! The day was cold, but the hearts and spirits warm. What a fun experience.
The children are quick to spot birds and squirrels.
Time with extended family in the Twin Cities was restful and hilarious as the children explored outside, spotted birds with “noculators”, and constructed wonderful toys from Legos.
Thanksgiving morning four of us walked a lovely labyrinth at St. Patrick’s Catholic Church in Plymouth, MN. Set down in a barrow area, the labyrinth is formal, well-maintained and has a light feel to it. While set apart, it is visible and still private. Well done.
Along the Mississippi
Our drive back along the Mississippi River yielded a fabulous view of Tundra Swans near Minneiska, MN, and a really terrific lunch at a humble looking (on the outside) but spectacular on the inside creamery now restaurant, wine tasting stop and cheesery near Alma, WI. Pretty fabulous. And, the countryside of The Driftless” area (NE Iowa, NW IL, SE MN and SW WI) is gorgeous even on grey November days. Decorah, IA, boasts are pretty great coffee shop and small businesses.
by Winding Pathways | Nov 16, 2015 | Reflections/Profiles, Travel/Columns, Wonderment
Winding Pathways usually blogs about wondrous happenings in backyards. It’s normally rural news about plants, wildlife and weather. Here’s a change from the Big Apple, America’s largest city.
In the midst of rush hour on November 10, on my way back to Iowa after a difficult visit, I, (Rich) took a bus from New Jersey to New York’s Port Authority. When the driver opened the door bus occupants flowed into a river of humanity snaking its way through the monstrous terminal-along corridors, down escalators and through more corridors, until finally we were outside by the New York Times Building.
Needing to find the shuttle to LaGuardia Airport I went to where I thought it would be. No luck. No shuttle. Rather frazzled and running short on time I found a young policeman and asked where the Airport shuttle was. He said, “You look tired. Just follow me”. He delivered me to the shuttle ticket guy.
Then something truly “New York” happened. After buying a ticket and getting seated on the shuttle the driver entered. He was a tiny Asian man who looked to be about 15 years old but certainly was older. I’d be surprised if he weighed 100 pounds and he spoke no English. A blond woman sitting near me also spoke no English. She may have been Scandinavian and could not find the proper ticket in her purse. She and the driver were not able to communicate, so the young driver exited and soon came back with a bus employee with a deep Southern accent who was about three times his size. She politely pointed to the proper ticket nestled with many others in the European woman’s purse.
Everyone smiled as the passenger handed her ticket to the driver. We were soon off to LaGuardia Airport with the young driver ably worming the bus through Manhattan’s snarly traffic.
Three people. None shared a common language. All wanted a positive outcome…….and that happened. It was wondrous.
by Winding Pathways | Jun 7, 2015 | Bugs, Labyrinths, Nature, Wonderment
We walked as 19 individuals in a single community waiting with anticipation for the first glimpse of the magical firefly dance. From ages two to mid-sixties with a healthy mix of 20 somethings visiting the Indian Creek Nature Center for the first time, we shared, questioned, chatted and on entering the sacred space surrounding the Prairie Labyrinth, approached reverently. As we began, Teri P read the powerful verses from Longfellow’s Hiawatha about the night and the fireflies:
“All the air was white with moonlight, All the water black with shadow,
And around him the Suggema, The mosquito, sang his war-song,
And the fire-flies, Wah-wah-taysee, Waved their torches to mislead him;
And the bull-frog, the Dahinda, Thrust his head into the moonlight,
Fixed his yellow eyes upon him, Sobbed and sank beneath the surface;
And anon a thousand whistles, Answered over all the fen-lands,
And the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, Far off on the reedy margin,
Heralded the hero’s coming.”
Then, we walked. Each tapped the drum. The children ran eagerly searching…searching and returned somberly. Adult Pilgrims stepped into the labyrinth and fell into silent reverie.
But the night was not. As nature does when given the chance, the evening filled our senses. We wove in and out along the path to the center looking with soft eyes upon the emerging summer prairie. Knee-high grasses cascaded to the ground. Virginia Mountain mint scented the air. Creamy Penstamen turned their tubular faces to the setting sun while butterflies gathered one more sip before dark. Field sparrows, red-winged blackbirds, robins, geese winging overhead called in succession and in the distance tree frogs tuned up for the night chorus. The west glowed faint orange like early evening fireflies do. The earth gave way beneath our foot falls. But, no where did we spy the enchanting flicker of a lightning bug.
In Center, we stood silently after the Firefly poem from “Song From the Sandhills” by Paul F. Long of Kansas. Remembering. Evenings full of magical light as these Coleoptera of the night etched their dance on our memories. In corn fields before potent sprays. In hedges and taller grasses between yards before hedge clippers and riding lawnmowers. In front yards and back yards before monoculture craze took over.
Then, one by one each of us caught a glimpse of a faint glow deep in the grasses. We pointed. Nodded. Smiled. Shared silently. More and more the winking in the prairie woke us up as the fireflies began their dance and story of intrigue – one of code talk, mystery, “femme fatale”, and murder! As the evening darkened and cooled, their lights changed to luminescent green, the pace picked up and the males began to appear higher up in the air. Escorting us out of the Labyrinth.
We walked happily back to the Center as the frogs and toads in the pond chanted, “It’s OK, let them glow, go slow, go slow.” (Virgil Ellis)
by Winding Pathways | Apr 11, 2015 | Geology/Weather, Reflections/Profiles, Wonderment
At three a.m.the mind wanders many paths. Sometimes they re-join and a message emerges.
During an early morning thunderstorm awakening, I recalled an experience at the open pit mine in Arkansas digging through the muddy rubble for crystals. Small points eluded me until an experienced crystal hunter helped train my eye. A few way too large chunks unrealistically tempted me. At one point, filthy, covered head to boot heel with thick red Razorback mud, I paused and looked around.
Razorback Red soil heaped up for crystal seekers to dig through.
Four things happened in quick succession. Surveying the devastation of mining, I started to cry. As I reached down in the ruined earth to apologize to the elegant, imposing crystal in front of me, a thought as clear as a refined crystal came to me, “Mining is a vicious activity.” As if to confirm my thought, deep red blood splattered on the rock. It took a few moments for me to realize the blood was mine! I had sliced open my little finger along the length of the last phalange on a razor sharp edge of the rock.
I just stoode there watching the blood drip on the crystal and sinking into the brick colored soil. I let the bleeding go, partly from shock, partly to wash out dirt, partly as a tribute for the violence done to the earth.
When I returned to the car we cleaned off and bound the wound, which kept bleeding for hours and opened up and bled many days after. On the way home, I reflected on the raw crystals and the lovely pure white and clear refined crystals we “ohhh” and “ahhh” over and buy in stores.
Our lives are like these crystals. Sometimes we are torn from all we think we know and love. The forms of violence are endless. The list goes on and on. In the raw we are rough, stained and fairly unattractive. Refined, we can glimmer, gleam and shine – sometimes in genuine completeness. Other times if too refined, we can become phony looking because our true selves are hidden by another factor – false perfection.
As I reflected, my little finger began to ache – again. A reminder of a time when I sympathized with Mother Earth and received a scolding from her. A lesson to share.
by Winding Pathways | Mar 4, 2015 | Labyrinths, Wonderment
Teri P. is an articulate, sensitive pilgrim of Labyrinths. Below Teri shares insights from a year of walking labyrinths in the Eastern Iowa area.
“First time in the labyrinth: Maundy Thursday April 17, 2014
“(Christ) Episcopal Church – Replica of the Chartres Labyrinth. Eight people there. I felt like people were walking fast. Faster than I wanted to. I tried to do the walking meditation as I was taught, but I felt pressured to keep moving. I walked with one foot ahead of the other. Reminded me of walking on the balance beam as a kid. Made me think of Dad. Marion said gymnastics must be where I got my good posture. No other impressions except calm.
“Regis Labyrinth: Saturday April 19, 2014- after a run.
“This labyrinth was a tribute to a beloved teacher. Stones along the path are engraved with inspirational words, “Patience” “Courage” “Pray”. At the center is John 14:6. Situated on the hill behind the school gives the labyrinth a restful feeling of solitude. I think I shall call it my” local”, like you do with a pub. Just a few blocks from my house.
“Solon Labyrinth: May Day 2014
“There was a cold rainy drizzle. When you drive onto the property you see a large round barn. Very cool.
“But around the back of the barn it gets even better. This massive stone arch is perched on the bank of a pond. It was laid up dry, by someone who understood the principle. I made Marion take a picture of me standing under it. As I walked the circuits I began thinking, “if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams….” At the center I moved from one rose petal to the next and wondered where this energy came from and where it would take me. I don’t completely understand, but I seem to feel lighter each time.
“Prairiewoods, World Labyrinth Day : May 3, 2014
“Marion tried to organize a walk, but she and I were the only ones to show up. Marion knows all the bird calls and frog sounds and any other sounds along the path to the labyrinth. When we arrived there were four young women there. Two inside the labyrinth, two outside. We watched the two young woman as they walked. One carried a stick and wrote in the sandy surface of the circuits. Marion measured the energy in the labyrinth – the dowsing rod circled 18 times – clockwise. I walked with two turkey feathers. Tail for guidance, wing for strength, according to Marion. The girls left and a deer showed up to watch. Deer totem means you are highly sensitive and have strong intuition in Native American culture – according to Linda. (When mom died and deer would show up at unexpected spots she started saying Mom sent them to tell us everything was good.)
“Indian Creek Nature Center: August 1, 2014
“Hot, buggy, beautiful sunset. I think we started at 7:00p.m. The prairie grass completely hides the labyrinth from the road. The path is mowed among the wild flowers. Not sure how many people there were. Eight? The path was wide enough to pass people so I did not feel I had to hurry. I set my intention. Not to worry. Things at work were getting to me. I carried a feather and tried to feel my way. I tried to smell and touch and listen – more than I saw. Some of the flowers you could smell easily – I only knew the obvious ones. When I got to the center I started thinking about being in a vortex, wondering why the path was the same in and out, and how winding a wire is part of a battery, isn’t it? I walked out feeling happy – while in the labyrinth I did not think about work at all.
“Laughing Labyrinth: Nov 1, 2014
“The labyrinth is open for walking. I arrive around 8:00 a.m. No one is there. I park my car, take a feather, ring the bell and announce my intention. “Help me with my grief.” Is that an acceptable intention? I still don’t know a lot about this. It has been two years since Dad died and I still miss him a lot. I try to be present. I look at what remains of the flowers. I smile at the metal dragon fly that looks very much like the one in my yard. I wonder what the magnolia tree looked like in the spring. I take my time. I stay in the center for a while, knowing that Marion told me that resolution does not always come while you are here, sometimes it happens on the way out, sometimes days later. So I make my way out, redeposit my feather and am ready to meet the day.”
