the end of my love affair with a pluot

in the garden, surrounded by bees

we need to sing with all the voices of the mtn

O , Great Spirit
Whose voice I hear in the winds,
And whose breath gives life to all the
World,Hear me, I am small and weak,
I need your strength and wisdom.

Let me walk in Beauty, and make my
Eyes ever behold the red and purple
Sunset.

Make my hands respect the things I
Have made and my ears be sharp to
hear your voice.

Make me wise that I may understand the
things you have taught my people.

Let me learn the lessons you have hidden
in every leaf and rock.

I seek strength, not to be greater then my
Brother or sister, but fight my greatest
Enemy--- Myself.

Make me always ready to come to you with
clean hands and straight eyes.

So when life fades, as the fading sunset, my
spirit may come to you without shame.

carbon copies

In January, Adam and I went on a road trip, hopefully the first of many. We spent about a day and a half in Texas visiting an old friend of mine in Arlington. We drove south into the Dallas-Fort Worth area in the evening, not arriving until near-midnight. The next morning we got breakfast and headed out west to climb around on some fake dinosaurs. I remember seeing cactus for the first time on our trip, and insisting that I take a picture of it, although I'm not sure why exactly. We would soon be heading west into New Mexico and Arizona where there was sure to be plenty of the prickly stuff. Hell, we even have cactus in Minnesota and it is just as sharp and just as prickly and hurts just as bad when it sneaks up into your shoe.

Remembering that this morning, I remember thinking during that trip and especially during our last trip that every town we were in reminded me of the last town, reminded me of home. Now, nature did a good job of providing a different palette, but when it came to towns and cities, the color scheme was all a dull hue of Targets and McDonalds and Starbucks and Home Depot and Little Caesars and Walmart and.... I was disappointed by the lack of character we've induced.

This really hit me for the first time at the outskirts of Los Angeles. Well, duh, right? In January, we stayed a few nights in Oceanside, California, a homey little beach town famous for their long wooden pier leading out into the waves filled with surfboards. Beach houses and condos lined the surf, but even those were appealing to us. The streets were lined with local shops, restaurants and stores, and a bustling farmers market. While there were quite a few people on the beach, I didn't understand how 179,681 people could live in this small little area.

In May when we were out, we needed some camping supplies for cheap and, not finding anything by the beach, we gave in and looked for the nearest walmart. There were three, all within a five-mile radius of each other. Getting away from the sun and surf there was this whole bustling city that suddenly looked like any Minneapolis suburb. I don't know why I was surprised, but my heart was immediately broken.

How I've been feeling, minus the dying part.

"An awakening conscience, unaccompanied by new wisdom, made his life so damn lonely, he decided he wouldn't mind being dead."

Sky Watching

Adam, Kat, and I went out, away from the city lights, to my dad's cabin in northern Wisconsin. We had heard of extreme solar flares that were supposed to hit our magnetic poles, spashing the aurouras across the skies.

Unfortunately, we saw no greens, blues, or reds. However, I did snap a couple of shots of the sky. Not bad without a tripod.