Winter...

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“Look round and round upon this bare bleak plain, and see even here, upon a winter's day, how beautiful the shadows are! Alas! it is the nature of their kind to be so. The loveliest things in life, Tom, are but shadows; and they come and go, and change and fade away, as rapidly as these!”

~ Charles Dickens

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I've mentioned many times my love for sitting here at my qwerty in the early mornings and watching through the windows the morning's dawning. With the big sky we have here at the farm, sitting in the middle of the valley as we are, we witness some awe inspiring sunrises and sunsets. But for me it is the sunrises... I'm a morning person and I can think of no better way to start my day than waking with my part of the planet. Living out in the desert in southern Oregon had to be my favorite place for day after day sunrise greetings. The quiet in such a broad expanse suits me.

Here in the south Willamette Valley we get our share of fog. Especially as autumn moves into winter we see more and more fog. There are different fogs that form... and I'm a sucker for those low, thick, drifting fogs that ebb and shift and only get 3 feet or so deep, hugging the ground. The next photo is from a couple of weeks ago:



Back in early October we had our first snow in the Cascades.



It surprised me a little... Oct 9 is way early. But our weather here in Oregon can be pretty diverse from year to year. I've lived here long enough to know the stories of the "big snow" back in the '60s (I'll follow up on this with some more specifics). Here in the valley we apparently had 5' - 6' of snow and the storm shut life down for a few days. As I heard the stories (and you'll hear 'em hanging around old farts) it dawned on me that that storm was the one that dumped 20' on Opal Creek when Indian Billy was the only person in camp. 20'!

My first ever snow camping trip was in the Sierras, led by my friend Greg Burke (his photo galleries are linked over in the left column), when we went into the backcountry skiing on a base of about 25'. Phenomenal skiing and fabulous views. With 25' of snow under us there were no rocks, no brush, just big, big trees, snow and sky. Aaah, such good stuff. Of course I'm less a fan of snow now. Its cold, creates extra work and takes more money out of my pocket...

... anyway... that snow in October kind of told me that we were going to have some real winter storms. Then came the rest of October and such great weather! Then came November. One of the warmest and mildest Novembers I remember. There were a couple of good freezes and the cold snaps really made the autumn leaves put on a great show that lasted way longer than normal because the weather was so cooperative.

But now we've had some real winter. Down to 10º here early last week. Snow and ice. The weather almost shut Portland down earlier this week.

Our last good snow storm came overnight and the morning was gorgeous... here are some photos from that morning:











I hope everyone stays safe this winter in the cold climes of the northern hemisphere. Those of you in the southern hemisphere... you're on your own with that warm weather stuff...

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“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; because there is not effort without error and shortcomings; but who does actually strive to do the deed; who knows the great enthusiasm, the great devotion, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement and who at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly. So that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.”

~ Theodore Roosevelt

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The West... women... war... and just random thinking...

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"Kids. They're not easy. But there has to be some penalty for sex."

~ Bill Maher
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I'm so proud... I received my first official rejection for a story idea submitted to a national, popular publication! Gosh...

But that step of submitting a pitch is exhilirating. And I'm going to have to do it again. The challenge has been made.

I mean I was thinking about it last night. About my life here in the west. I truly love the west, I believe I live and have grown up in what is still a truly wild wild west.



We still have cowboys (buckaroos!), Indians and struggles over land, water and law. And I thought about those people I have met, the people who represent so many different aspects of belief, of profession and outspoken passionate activism that have inspired so much in me, for me. People whose touch upon my life has brought personal change and growth. People who are public figures, and people who remain very private citizens, yet have definite effect upon this wide open landscape that I see as the place "where I'm from."



I've roamed a lot of this vast expanse, from oceanside to the Rocky Mountains and meandered through many parts of the broad western desert. I've roamed from the southern border to the northern, from Texas to Idaho, California to Colorado...



I've found myself in the midst of battles both epic and insignificant. And to experience them, not just as events to view, but in which I participate as an active advocate for one side or the other, is for me a treasure. I would not exchange any of my adventures for a life of middle class, suburban comfort. I cringe at the thought of myself as someone who did the family, 9 to 5 job, TV watching middle-American thing. While I find nothing wrong with that -- heaven forbid! some of my best friends have spent their lives doing just that -- I know for me it would have been a kind of submission and rejection of spirit. And submissive I'm not. I'm Scandinavian. Hard-headed. Sometimes I feel like the descendant of a long line of Vikings and nomadic Reindeer herders who is just trying to get back home after a long, long journey to a strange, faraway land. I love my freedom and room to roam...



I give thanks to the gods that be for a rich lifetime, even tho' I've been a poor man monetarily most of that time. I've been able to love (and be loved by) beautiful, wild women. I've been friend with cowboy, Indian, cop and robber. I've broken bread with Muslim and Jew, Buddhist, Christian and Pagan. And (to paraphrase Edward Abbey) while I've never been lost, I've sure been a mite confused at times. I've failed and succeeded and have grown as a man. I know where I live and have a pretty good idea about those with whom I share this earth. Sometimes I can easily curse humanity and wish a pox upon its collective head and sometimes... sometimes we are as regal as any life form in the universe and I am so glad to have this form and this life. Sometimes we radiate in truly vibrant glory and sometimes we grovel in depths dark and dismal. I suppose therein lies one of the great gifts of friendship, the necessity and the reward of being loved, and loving...



I've come a long way... and find, still, my life is just beginning.
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OK... I'm going to venture onto dangerous ground here. In a move that endangers the very fabric of reality I havta speak out on a subject that has affected me every day of my life. I'm going to talk a bit about women.

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... no bolts of lightning...

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... no bricks thru my window...

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Ok... I think its safe. But I'm not actually worried, I like women. My mother was one. My sister too.

Every girlfriend I have had has been one. My ex-wife is one. Heck, I'll bet Santa's wife is one...

Besides the obviousness of being born from woman I'm sure glad for all the good women I've known. Kinda fond of some of the bad women I've known too... but seriously...

As I think about this I'm not really sure where to start. I guess a big "Thanks!" would be appropriate about now, so ladies, "Thanks!" I know you have collectively put up with a lot of shit from a lot of men for a lot of years. See... this is what an education gets me. I know that hundreds of thousands if not millions of women in Europe died during that continent's "rise to civilization." That is the cost of to a matrilineal, agricultural collective type society when it runs into a patriarchy willing to rule by extremely heavy hand. Violence is the hallmark of such men. But truly? Those who would (and have, and do) rule by brutal decree, are a pox among men. There are those among us who have no problem beating women and children. There are those of us men who are terrible, terrible people. And in that regard, we men have failed to control and remove this particular vermon from our communities. But I do believe that -- if it is not too late already -- there may be that pivotal shift in men's collective thinking that says we have reached that point of "enough."

I know how women's history has gone and it is a sad legacy that says far more about men than it does women. But the heroic woman archetype is as real as that of man's. We share that legacy... that both our genders have produced true heroes and too often made the ultimate sacrifice putting forth the proposition that life is sacred and that we will stand up to anyone in defense of home, family and community.

to be continued...
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My nomination for picture of the millenium:



That image just blows my mind. Thanks to brother Marty for showing me the Nat'l Geographic magazine that had the story. From Mexico's Cave of Crystal Giants...

In the same edition is this great shot of the Tarahumara in Mexico:



A People Apart
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According to a new survey, women say they feel more comfortable undressing in front of men than they do undressing in front of other women. They say that women are too judgmental, where, of course, men are just grateful.

~ Robert De Niro

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