Colorado - The Royal Gorge

Ridges and red rocks surrounded us 360º, and we were in the center of it, dangling from a little gondola,  1,053 feet above the ground. The little gondola slid along as I snapped pictures of the scenic view. The mountains were hues of blue in the distance and the red canon rock flamboyantly showed off its splendor. Below was the Arkenswa river, rushing past, making white caps while the water pushed past the rocks. And amongst it all was the bridge -- the largest suspension bridge in America -- standing its ground, tall and proud. 

While walking across the bridge you could look down and see through the crakes between the plants. It was kind of insane to think about how such a structure could keep that high you up and let you view for miles. 

Around mid-day, we made the climb down the gorge, through the mountains and out to the plains. The thing that's cool about being out in the Front Range of the Rocky Mountains is that when you look North, you see a big rocky wall that ripples and winds. Yet, just turn your head to the South and you can see as far as your eyes can see. There's nothing for miles and miles. I can definitely say that this day was one for the books. 

4.14.17

Life has gotten to me again, but today, I’m stopping it all and taking a moment to enjoy the weather, iced coffee, a book, and the greenness that has flooded my back yard. I haven’t been able to write these past few days so getting to take the time to sit and type a few words is a nice thing.

________

I went and bought a fern, a cactus, and a few succulents today. Lowe's was as busy as you would expect it to be on a sunny spring day. People clamoring like ants around the herbs, potted flowers, and hanging plants. Some trying out the outdoor cushions and couches. I went straight to the sea of green. All the plants and grasses and succulents make me feel at home and full of life. Green is my favorite color and that’s one of the reasons why. 

It took me about 10 minutes to pick out which fern I wanted. There were big ones and small ones and one that looked like they contained a small jungle under the leafy greens. I picked one that was sort of in the middle, small enough to hang on my hook at home but still had the jungle likeness to it. I picked out a flowering cactus and a few succulents, too. 

After I made it through the checkout, fought traffic, and make it back home, I realized I didn’t have any potting soil, so I had to go back out again. This time I went to Menards, which was a good choice because compared to Lowe’s, it was completely dead and the soil was cheaper.

The second time I pulled up into my driveway I was ready to tackle the task of putting the succulents in their pots with the potting soil. I forgot how much I love potting plants, making them a little home to grow and bloom. The soil got under my fingernails and made the palms of my hands black as cole. It was soft and moist and pure. It was reliving, sticking the roots of the plants down into the soil, giving them a chance at life and a new surrounding. Planting seeds are the same way, only you’re waiting and praying the little seedling break through the topsoil with little green leaves. Growing up towards the light, higher than high.

That reminds me of when I was little. I used to love plants but I was never able to have them. I always thought that if I was just about to get the seeds, then I could take some dirt from the garden out back and use the pot I painted for school. I remember once I tried to use the seeds from a fruit. I can’t remember what fruit it was, an apple, I think. I extracted them from the core and the rushed up to my room to get the pot. Inconspicuously I when outside and collected the dirt I needed, then slowly, I placed the seeds down into the soil and watered it with tap water. 

The seeds didn’t grow like I hoped they would. There were several things I did wrong. I planted the seeds too deep in the soil and I used our softened tap water. It was then I learned that soften water is never good for plants. Once my mom figured out what I did she and I went out to the store and bought a packet of flower seeds and then she helped me plant them the correct way. The flowers poked through the soil grew little sprouts and turned into colorful blooms. Now that I’m sitting here thinking about it, I’ve always had a love for plants like that, in all their greenness. 

________

Sitting outside listening to the birds' chirp is a nice way to end the evening. My dog is running around getting into mischief every now and then. She’s so curious and full of wonder. When you’re only four months old, the world is a whole expanse just waiting to be explored, even when the world is just your back yard. 

“I’m headed home with three plates of food and two bags you can’t look in, easter is coming you know.” - my mother to me while talking on the phone. 

Other Than Just Running

English 202 // 08

Twenty minutes of Melodies

  I woke up, 8:29. The sun illuminating my room, through the sheers. I gave the pages and the ink my morning; wrote poetry, drank coffee. I listened to french jazz music and made cinnamon rolls. I got ready and curled my hair. I was ready by dix heures et demie du matin (ten thirty in the morning). I left soon after that...

  I walked into a small bookshop, and bought a book. A poetry book. A book of poetry by Mary Oliver, to be exact. Then I took myself and my newly boughten book to the teahouse around the corner. It smelled of tea leaves, and the window seat was open and free. The window seat is my favorite seat in the whole cafe. I ordered black vanilla mint, it was $2.50, and then sat down in the golden stream of light, warm and inviting. I read poetry, occasionally looking up and out at the passerby's and the lone tree swaying in the wind. At 1:45 I got up and made my way to class. We talked about poetry and rhythm and rhyme. It was good. I rarely get days like these, and I’m trying to fix that. 

 I made my way home on the country roads. The wide, blue sky stretched out, flaunting it’s vastness. The sun near the horizon, because it’s close to winter now and the sun sets early. I think I’m getting old, because time seems to pass to quickly. There was a slow driver in front of me. I passed him on the right, though I probably shouldn’t have, I need to learn how to go a little slower. 

 Once I got home, I called my mom and put some water in the kettle to make green tea. (I like tea, don’t you see?) I put peppermint in it, because peppermint makes everything good. It’s dark outside, 6:45. I’m just now realizing how fast, yet slow, life goes. Moving two speed, simultaneously. 

I rarely get days like these. I rarely stop to take a peak at what life offers other than just running...

   We live in a world that is lost in the light of a screen. Almost never do we take the time to look up from that little white box to see the real things around us. The tangible, real living things. 
                                                                         ___________

    A few days ago, my family spent an evening over at Epcot in Disney World. We had a FastPass for TestTrack and the School Bread (properly titled Skolebrød) from Norway was calling our name (best treat ever, by the way). As we were leaving the park, we stopped by the bathroom. I waited outside on a bench with my brother while everyone else went in. All the people around us were on their cell phones. The light from the screen was lighting up their faces as their thumbs scrolled up and down their Facebook pages or Instagram feeds. I would’ve been on my phone too but it had died. It was somewhere buried down in my purse, unable to give me the entertainment I needed. I decided to people watch. The sky was growing dim and the lights on the Epcot ball were starting to shine -- yellow, orange, purple -- people all around were starting to take photos of it. There was this one woman I noticed, though. She sat in a red electronic wheelchair, the kind that the people sitting in them can control themselves. She was there, with a camera in her hands, looking up and taking photos of the big, lit-up ball. I could hear her shutter click slowly, letting in enough light so that the photo wouldn’t turn out dark, but still see all the beautiful color. I just sat there watching her, wondering how her photos would turn out once she got back to her home or hotel. After a few moments, I realized that I probably shouldn't be looking over at someone for too long, reminding myself that I didn’t want to look like a creep. Right before I looked away, the woman leaned on the front handle bars of her wheelchair with her elbows, stabling her camera for another shot, but as she did one of her elbows hit the reverse button and she started zooming backward in her wheelchair. Once she got it stopped, she looked up over at me. I just smiled at her, not really knowing what to do or say. She just smiled back at me, and then she started laughing. I started laughing too. There was just a small moment of light in the dusk that evening, as we both looked at each other and laughed. 

“Thank you. Thank you for laughing with me,” she said, “If my kids were to be here right now they would probably be yelling at me.” 

“You’re welcome,” I told her, not exactly sure what else to say.

She went on to say something else but a crowd started to gather and her voice got lost in the clutter. At the same time, the rest of my family came out of the bathroom and they continued to head out of the park. I waved goodbye and she waved goodbye back.

“What were you and that woman laughing about,” asked my mom as we walked away. 

I told her a shortened version and left it at that. I walked out of the park that night with a smile on my face.

___________

    I’ll probably never encounter that woman again. I will always remember her laugh, though. And the fact that if I was on my phone, I would have never been able to have that connection. Maybe all that woman needed was someone to laugh with her, not scolded or yell at her. Maybe, just maybe, that small moment of relief, that small moment free to laugh with a stranger, made a difference in her day.

 Where else can we make that small connection with people? My favorite author, Hannah Brencher once wrote, “...God needs me in the lives of other people, not their social feeds. It's hard but glorious to remember that real life happens off the screen. It happens in elevators and waiting rooms and restaurants and countertops.” 

 God need’s us in the lives of other people, not the people in our social feed. He needs someone to laugh with a person who needs to laugh and help a person who needs help. We need people and people need us. I find myself looking down into my phone way too often, instead of connecting with people around me. I will never know when some need just a fraction of  my time or a hint of my smile. Maybe I should let my phone die more often.  

    If you find yourself always lost in the light of your phone screen, spending way too much time on the people in your social feed instead of the people around you, I encourage you to let your phone die. Look up and give a smile to a stranger. You never know when someone needs to laugh. 

From the Café

Just as we sat down in our seats, thunder cracked and rain started to pour from the sky. For being dinner time, it was rather quite in the café. We got there right before the rush. The clatter of plates and the hum of voices soon to come. But right then it was just us, sipping coffee and watching it storm out the raindrop clad windows. I picked up my camera and took a few shots. This is one that I love the most. 

 From the Café // 01