Blue and Yellow

Oh my gosh, Phoenix was glorious. The city itself is unremarkable except for its cleanliness and easy access to everything but it doesn't matter because of its crown of blue sky and yellow sun. The low light angle at this time of the year just makes it that much more attractive. The temperature hovered around 80 degrees all the time we were there. I can prove it-I was swimming in an outdoor pool one morning at 7:30 and didn't need to sprint from the pool to the spa. Another example: We ate dinner outside on our friends' patio and I was barefoot at 8:00 at night. The coyotes were a-howling and the stars were a-twinkling all swirled together with the smell of the bbq-ed salmon and the vanilla scented candles on the table. It was heaven.

The tourist highpoint for me was our visit to the "Vincent Van Gogh Alive" exhibit at the Phoenix Science Center. I was enthralled and awed by this multi-sensory experience into the life and work of this artist. And it was so apropos to my class work this week that centers around the relationship between an artist and his art. Unforgettable.

But the very best part of the trip was the time I got to spend with our friends Cheryl and Irvin. What fun we had! And the absolute best was when Cheryl and I had a few hours to ourselves while the guys played golf. Just like old, old times. Talk, talk, laugh, sigh, talk, and talk some more. She helped me find a solution to a very disturbing problem I've been grappling with for the last several months. I knew I could count on her. She is such a treasure.

The Sun at $49.99

I finished my daily allotment of rows on my sky scarf four days ahead of time today because we're going to Phoenix tomorrow and I don't want to schlepp this bulky boxed project with me. And I knitted the future four days all in yellow because that's what the sky is expected to be like in Arizona with an accompanying temperature near 80 degrees. So the sun will shine on my life for the next few days and not only from the sky but from the smiling face of my good, good friend Cheryl and her good guy husband, Irvin.

I've known Cheryl since I was in the seventh grade. That was in the year 1959 which was a very long time ago. She is now my oldest friend on earth. She is one of the few left who can remember any of the specifics about my own childhood so I stand secretly in a selfish kind of awe of her. She's one of my power figures. When we were in junior high, she was one of those girls who just knew everything and everyone including the most amazing facts and stories about the cheerleaders and the yell kings. In high school, she could handle her cigarette the way Tippi Hedren did in the movie "The Birds" when she was calmly sitting on the bench in the school yard with the weird birds beginning to fill her background. In fact, Cheryl recited the whole plot of that movie to all of us at one of Karen's famous slumber parties that my parents actually let me attend. We were so scared by her realistic interpretation that we couldn't go to sleep but I was immensely grateful for her narrative because I knew I would never be allowed to see such a movie. There was nothing uplifting about it, according to my mother.

And then, believe or not, Cheryl and Irvin got married a year after we graduated from high school when I was still struggling with Shakespeare and wondering how I would ever pass my math requirement and desperately shopping for a husband of my own. The two of them are still happily married today and living in the perpetual warmth of Arizona. They come home to Oregon only when the heat is absolutely unbearable in that part of the country. They spend part of their summer at the Oregon Coast and we visit with them there. But now I am excited to go see my friend who understands more about me than anyone on earth except maybe for my sister. And for that reason, she is one of my best people. And, wow, did she ever look good in those short, short pleated Pendleton skirts and matching sweaters that we wore in the old days!

Lucky Thirteenth

Check this out! Today was my lucky owl day. I just felt right in my bones this morning that I would see this Western Screech Owl. Traffic was good, there were only a few people at the refuge and there was no one on the trail until my return. I did spot squirrels and chipmunks and walked right through a flock of Canada geese without disturbing them one bit. That seemed like a good omen. The forested area was deserted and I found myself slowing my steps as I approached the tree but VOILA! there it was! I held my breath as my shaking fingers readied the camera. He let me take as many pictures as I wanted and only opened one eye for a quick glance before going back to sleep. I was walking at least six inches above the trail on the way back. What a thrill! New score= Owls 13 and Owlers 4. (The camera date is wrong. I forgot to readjust it. Darn.)

Saturday Sunset

Back to the wheat warehouse and the giant fir trees today where Bobbie had discovered many more owl pellets and ventured that the owl had probably been watching us fiddle around in the old building from the top of one of those trees. We inspected the warehouse carefully, used our new binoculars on the huge trees, poked at some pellets and then set off cross country roads where I got to see an active beaver lodge that Bobbie had discovered a long time ago. The winter scape was gorgeous and only outdone by the sunset which we watched while swiveling our heads to the owl site parked at the perfect spot to see him leave either the warehouse or the big trees. We were foiled again but the warm winter day was exhilarating and we celebrated it with dinner at La Margarita in Salem. DELICIOUS.

Empty Branches

I'm pretty sure the owls see us coming. They spot our car and then quietly make their way to the far side of whatever grove we plan to scout and simply lift their wings and take off. Maybe if we looked fast enough before we get out of the car we could spot their rear ends heading out. Once again, lots of evidence-pellets and whitewash-but no owls. We even laid down on the duff of the grove floor next to the farm house at Howell Territorial Park on Sauvie Island and stared up into the swaying limbs for a good long time. Lots of sunshine, a brisk fresh breeze, and old oak leaves to scrunch through all added to the otherwise joyful experience of this rare and bright February day. And then the drive back around the island in the long shadows of late afternoon with the empty fields and winter trees basking in the last rays of the almost warm sun made the whole trip so worthwhile.

Food, Nature, Valentine

Here's a simple little food to nature connection that you can easily put together. Serve it up with a sweet red or chocolate treat and, viola, Happy Valentine's Day!