Got to rename this from Bush to American War.
The Day (the day inwhich I wrote it).

February 22,2017

Wow, six years later, and again it is winter when I write this. A quick review of the text below where this writing is placed on this page brought back a few reminders of those days.

As expected, life is different in ways, age, the times and the things interesting which now consume my time. Winter has taken its share, causing its demand of attention, snow to move, many very cold days, plumbing troubles due to a rodent's desire to chew the insulation of the heat tape that warms the pipe when the temperatures are extreme ( less than 10 F). The good thing being that the pipe didn't break and its issue correction, though temporary, held, preventing serious problems in need of a greater amount of attention. I long to see my garden again. These past two months have hidden it below a blanket of snow that yet lingers there, though near melted at present. The ice that formed in those places where snow is compact in place by what ever pushes it down with force ample to remove air space. Walking, vehicles and the wheelbarrow compact snow here. Yet years and years ago I learned how to avoid ice from the above mentioned, that is to move the snow before it becomes compact by anything I may do. The shovel goes before me when new snow is present, because that activity reduces the potential to have ice becoming greatly reduced. Yet the winter brought pure ice to me, as it fell directly from the sky as rain. The ground was so cold as to freeze the water on contact where it remained, solid boiler-plate ice, more slippery than a banana peel and bone breaking solid to land upon. It is best to prevent the potential of ice for that reason. But the rain turning directly to ice changed the game. I am thankful that I treat snow as I do because thus far I've avoided falls on the ice though there has been a couple of moments of thoughtless motion. I simply remember these events having taken place, reflecting back with a belief that I will not see these conditions again this winter. I could, yet I want that nature will put a touch more heat in this area for winters remains.

The Bush wars continue, expanding like the flood waters, yet different than water, it is slow and lethal to those unfortunate individuals directly or indirectly in its path. Crazy! Sad! Shameful!

In these, my times, the days of my life currently, as of now that is, and not necessarily when this is read by any individual. The true love and compassion of my life's experience is in my path, purposefully most of my days, at least for a few moments and likely for hours. A deliberate turning of course, one that has brought with it some of the pleasant, the unexpected pleasure of making success of the music I make. Success is like any other judgment, subjective. For my own use of the word, I am referring to the satisfaction created in the process making my music come to life to be heard by any whom possess a desire to hear it. The years it has taken to achieve what I am now doing seems long. A realization that this is a road for myself alone has been a different kind of challenge to come to terms with, as both unexpected and undesirable. Although, now. alone, I am recording my music at will, creating these ideas of songs, turning the ideas into individual parts that when combined make up the whole. It is art, a peculiar form of art when done by one person. There are a lot of pieces in the process of making multi-track recordings of songs never before played in this way or performed or heard, to say nothing of knowing how to use the software used to facilitate the processes used to produce high quality digital audio recordings. It seems a never ending challenge bringing along success in its wake. The process has shown me more about possessing the patients required to continue this path, learning what recording music alone demands. And finally over these same years, I've gradually collected the physical gear that supports the entire process. Ah, now the fun happens, beside fulfilling a long sought goal of recording all of my music. Many of these songs are now somewhere in the process, some simply in a rough draft form, the beginning point I use with every recording, some nearing completion, where most tracks are recorded well, but waiting another track or two, completing what will meet the final mix and product, a new song to be heard. Fun and the reward of listening, it builds a stronger satisfaction with each track created.

Life remains good!


December 12, 2010

It is winter. Winter has evolved for me personally in my life time, well that is as a period of time in relation to its weather. I personally have experienced a large shift in how I feel about winter and what it brings. In the early years of my life I lived outside of Napa, California. Splendid weather there, but winter is, well while noticeable as what is known as winter, it just doesn't get cold as I now know cold to be. I can recall the first time I saw snow. It was a weekend or maybe even before I had started going to school. My sister and I were so excited we kept looking out the window, getting dressed to go out and play in the snow, but mostly looking out. By the time we had gotten ready to go outside to have our time in the snow, it had all melted away. Sigh... Then another year when it did get cold enough to break a water pipe, the water must have run for many hours and it froze on the ground, like an ice skating rink along the driveway. The water pooled up before freezing and must have formed a frozen surface nearly 20 feet long, by 5 or 10 feet wide. I remember it stayed frozen like that for at least a week. The memory is quite sketchy now with some 50 years having passed.

In my late teenage years we moved to Lake Tahoe and I learned what cold and snow was like. I went skiing for the first time Christmas Day, 1969. The event changed my life eventually. I was poor and skiing is an expensive sport, so being poor, I was not able to ski very often. By not very often, I mean maybe 10 to 20 times in the following 8 years.

After I returned to Tahoe after my service in the Marine Corps, I was able to buy cross country skis. There after I found winter to be a joyful time. I became anxious in fall for the first snow fall, the accumulation and cover adequate to go out and play. Winter and its snow provided what was then the best time of the year. We would go out and find the winter wonderland in the Sierra, going out to where nobody roamed. That was true of that time, though now days it is far different on the snow covered Sierra, as winter has been discovered as advances in ski technology re-sculpted the sport. We did it on double camber cross country skis, and I still have that first set of skis, in their beat up state, though they would still function perfectly well were I but able to clip them on my feet and go. Of course I have others now too, but that is a different story.

Since then I have moved away from the magical winter wonderland that can be a winter's day in the Sierra, to a lower elevation much farther north. The snow is never as deep here and it rains a lot during winter. But the busted body has taken the joy of winter as I had come to love it away from me. The joy I find in winter now is in the observation of snow in its various forms. Differing days, temperatures, and the age of snow all take a part in how snow looks as it fully or partly covers the landscape. I still find it magical when the snow sparkles on a cold winters morning, when the crystals are formed in a way that allows it. This seems a condition that is unable to be adequately captured by a camera and must be observed to fully understand the spectacle the right condition provides. It is better on a perfect day up on a high slope of untracked powder snow, knowing that you get to make the first tracks!


December 10,2010

Evening after such a period of neglect to this entire site. Yet there is no rule compelling me on to write here. Life has simply taken me in other directions. It is true that for this time I do wish I would write more here. As I see it, my world is falling down around me and it seems so hopeless while I am here feeling helpless to assist very much with the betterment of where we all live.

The truth is it really sucks being inside a broken body, learning to adapt to it is a large challenge for anyone in this or similar condition. It takes a really long time to adapt from being able bodied, knowing a life time of experience in movement then having it extracted, as though something just cut it off, gone.

I really shouldn't talk about that, it is simply on my mind a lot, almost always in the background, like a blister on you foot while sitting still.

Actually I am going to leave this as is for now, maybe come back again sooner next time and maybe say something worth speaking to.

February 16, 2010

Tuesday morning,early for me, being up at 4:20 AM local time.

I have done some strange web findings in recent days. I do this sort of thing occasionally. I simply love maps thus... maps give raise to looking at them. In my normal day's web viewing, I nearly always look at maps on United States Geological Survey (USGS) earthquake information sites. I guess growing up in California provides some basis for that sort of interest. So these days there is a vast amount of near live data showing earthquake information on map type interfaces. These maps provide: magnitude, depth, and location for everything above magnitude 2.0, world wide. But that is not what I want to talk about here and now.

Looking at these maps on the usgs sites has sparked my interest in a variety of subjects over the years. It causes me to want to see it better, to glean some sort of understanding of what is there. Google maps and GoogleEarth come into play here for me. Due to the nature of those usgs maps, having an occasional city name, my investigating took me to this place that I find to be absolutely fascinating. I just marvel at what it must be like on the ground, to walk through these places that hold beautiful patterns as seen from above. Thus I provide here a google maps insert that shows this place. Fool around and take a good look at the place as provided by Google Maps.

View Astana, Kazakhstan in a larger map
And this photo from

I look at the above image and wonder what it must be like to be among a society that would create a place like this. It seems to me vastly different than anything I have seen before, anywhere. I think it is quite beautiful as seen from above at least. I just wonder what it must be like to walk through that area, beneath that structure called Bayterek. It is impressive from my living room, and this small fragmented view found on the web. Got to love the internet!


February 05, 2010

       This day is gloomy looking outside, with rain and wind. Wintertime in this Inland NorthWest, though an odd winter it has been thus far. Very little snow has come down so far as the warm weather presists. But I don't want to write about the weather, though I want to write about something significant. It seems that I have yet to figure out exactly what to write here today. I do know I want to write. Writing about the thought process of figuring out what would be good to write will have to do for the moment.
       There is a lot in the world to choose from in writing. Generally I write about things I find of interest or importance at a particular point in time. There are subjects to avoid all together here on the net as they are personal in nature, though these are probably the very things that I need to write out for the purpose of getting a grip on life as the corners have come sharper than my ability to navigate in recent times. There is always the political topic of the moment or even one seldom spoken. The world is full of subject matter to choose from. The closest thing to me it this moment is the computer, my near constant, lets say, tool. That is a good topic to write on as it has offered me a lot in recent years.
       A few years back, I removed myself from the realm of Microsoft products all together for what has turned out to be a remarkably good transition into the realm of Linux. There were challenges at first, being without any formal background in computing, or computers. Yet I was determined to move to what I understood to be a more reliable system. My understanding proved out correct. I do enjoy the freedom from the vicious pirates, thieves and other such fun loving intruders (though their forms of fun fall under a different thought process than my own) that comes as a part of computing with Linux. The amazing part of the experience is that all the software is opensource, which actually means, free from monetary costs to the consumer, me, you, anyone.
       This past few days I went through the process of making a sitemap for this web domain of mine, which come to find out, has become very extensive over the years. I started this adventure in the world wide web back in 1997, using Windows 95 (trademark Microsoft Corp.) on a Pentium II machine. Those were the days, eh. Yet that was a much improvement ofer what proceeded it that 3.1 thing. I am getting off topic, sorry, so coming back to topic, in the process, I discovered that I have over one thousand pages running on this domain now. I was amazed to see that number. This Linux system with all the free software really offers a lot of flex to my ability to do things with the computer as I am no longer bound by the costs that were involved in obtaining software as was the previous experience with those other guys. The concept of free software for the masses really brings a better potential to humanity in general. There are so many great minds stuck behind the walls of no money. I wish everyone knew.
       There are many systems out there that fall within the free category. I use the Ubuntu 8.04 LTS "Hardy Heron" because it is a "long term support" (LTS) version. To make that sitemap I finished last night required making an xml document/file. I did it with the program I am using to type this, called Kate, of all things. It is quite a flexible program that I only discovered last week. I have quickly become fond of it, the program. I had to learn some minor programming, or relearn a different macro writing method to streamline the editing process, rather than trying to write out all those lines of xml by hand. It turned out to be rather easy to accomplish. The result of which is, now I have a sitemap to help this web site be found by readers through search functions.
       There is no moral to this above tale, just a bit of writing for yet another entry in This Day.


December 8, 2009

Another very long span of time has passed without a word written here.  I am unsure of why I ever choose to write in a publicly accessible place.  I remember times when I did believe there to be audience here and that it could cause a difference in one's day maybe.  I must admit that I have sense changed my opinion on the question of audience.  I believe now that few if any read this.  The question might therefore be why would I have concluded to write in the first place.  For myself, in this moment, I really have no caring for the amount of audience, if in fact there is any at all.
There was a time when I really wished to cause some reasonable change in our world.  I see our home (the planet) through clear eyes.  I choose to look past the clouds of disguise cast out before us by those who choose to be blinded by their need for money.  It is said that money makes the world go round, though I do know better.  I choose to recognize the laws of physics and admit freely that these are the forces that make the world go round.  Money is purely a human invention which in fact has no merit on a naturally evolved globe traveling through space.   Humans do taint what they see in order to keep this system of monetary exchange going. 

Right now in Copenhagen, Denmark, there is an international conference being attended by representatives of 119 countries.  These talks are said to be on the subject of “global warming.”  I read through some of the write-ups on this conference and conclude that the root of the talks is really about money.  Who is going to pay what, how much and other economically centered topics that are said to be connected to reduction of “greenhouse gas emissions.”  The fact is more likely true that this is an avoidance of the real issue as it is disguised by a vale to allow the monetary exchange to go on as it has in the past.  I truly believe that humans actually don't understand the real issues here for their fear of loosing the things they like in life.  Note that I didn't say fear of loosing things they need.  They can't see clearly enough to understand that the things they like will prevent their having the things they need in the long term.   We place a higher value on the freedom to drive an automobile above having food and water.  119 countries with the major industrial countries dictating what the remainder can expect.
I do understand that the problems of the human race and the place we all share is very complex.  Societies have evolved monetary systems as a way of exchange between individuals.  Individuals have formed groups and country nations which seems to bring harmony to the individual groups, countries.  The countries are like individuals in ways, all different from the other countries.  Yet with countries as players, rather than individuals, decisions which effect the monetary systems are filled with inequality, because for one, the individual systems are not on a level playing field.  Many other factors which I  surely  know nothing about are in play.   The thing I do know something about is the nature of this living system we know as our Earth.  While we are busy bickering about the differences and ways to come to equitable ways to make decisions, we are continuing our destruction of the planet at record pace, turning a blind eye to it under a smoke screen of disguise.

Enough of that!

There is sun here through this cold spell of winter like weather, yet winter is not officially here. Yet the dates on calendars is purely the pick of a misinformed human being. It may be true that in some areas, winter has yet to arrive though here in the North of Idaho, USA, winter type weather is here by late November always. I used to really enjoy the wonders of winter. Wonders in that a deep snow covered landscape provides a magical look. That which was once clearly defined becomes changed even hidden from sight or touch. The colors in the landscape are also altered. Scenes change from the normal of dirt, rock and plants, to the wild white of a wonderland. I used to ski through the magic of winters glory. Now I dream of skiing from inside my home. The dream to hear snow crystals forced together under the weight of the ski, the grace of a turn, the plant of a pole, that sound, another turn, on down the fall-line through a winters magic.

September 4, 2008

It has been a long time since placing words in this space.  Reviewing time shows that the Bush war continues.  Maybe there is new hope coming along soon.   I certainly hope that to be our case.   I was just reading some of NVC this evening.  If the people who next gain power in Washington could only open their minds to this simple yet difficult idea, our world would be a much safer place to live for all of us.  Simple / difficult, an ambiguous couple of words.  I say it is simple because idea is simple.  I say difficult because the process is generally one beside our normal pathway in speaking in the beginning. There is a lot of learning involved to become efficient in the practice.  It is a matter of practice, like most of the concepts we learn in life, we must walk the path several times before we know how it takes us to the designated destination.  

Maybe I will come back and write more often.  Fall is near and with it comes the changes of habit.   Habits, available with favorible weather.   The cold to come will leave me indoors more as being one with little ability to be physically active, the chill sinks in quickly.  Tiz uncomfortable being outside in the cold while being still.  I have no illusions to paint today.  

February 16, 2007

I don't want to be up. I want to be asleep. There is not anything here to do which draws my interest some mornings. This is one of those mornings. Up earlier than I want, up awakened by the discomfort of a painful neck. Pain influences dreaming strangely. Over time I have accumulated a lot of experience with the pain influenced dreaming. It brings about a random mosaic in story. Most of them involve an expression of pain in various vivid forms. War, stressed adventure, torture, and falling are a few topics that come to mind. Ah but that is past for another chunk of time and now wakeful time is here, dominant, and the sun is shining. Sunshine, such a rare event here on the Palouse in winter. It must be soaked up when available. This bright sun hanging in a pure blue sky is quite a cheerful view. Still I await my view of this as of yet it is below the hill on its way up through a morning. Now that wakefulness has come, coffee is on the intake, I will have to choose the course of my day yet. The choices are likely to involve this keyboard in some way. But with the sun in the sky I really should find my way outside to enjoy the real world beyond these confines. Snow has melted. Mud prevails. Time, like the trickle of water in the roadside ditch moves on in its steady journey down hill. Yet this illusion of time would be much less evident a couple of hundred miles above this location on the planet. There what we observe as shifts between day, night, dark, light would be a constant of light. Take one out of the orbit of this planet and how we observe life would alter our perception of time. Time is the ticking of a clock, marked and synchronized to the timing of the earths spin. Take the earth away from time and all reference beyond a clock disappears. What would that be. Our trivial little lives dictated by time, schedules, and clocks would find time to be less of a determinant factor in living. Time is artificial beyond the planet. Time is an illusion.


February 10, 2007  

Standing in the chill air of this Saturday's morning filled my senses in just a few moments. The fire is lit inside, still prior to effecting the room temperature, darn winter's cold. The coffee is done, first steaming cup in hand, I swing the door to the outside world, step through and quickly pull it to behind me. This being alive thing is interesting. I notice this immediate environment. My mind instantly fills with sensory inputs. There is a fresh air wind blowing in from the east, singing in the tall pines. Singing is more of a soft steady low pitched whir that slowly oscillates relative to wind speed. There are many birds out on this sun filled day under a sky so blue that it looks belonging. I hear a song sparrow down by the creek. It sings its melodic song, then goes silent. This creek, several hundred meters from where I stand, remains swollen with the volume of yesterday's rain that melted quite a lot of snow. There is a loose group of black-billed magpies in the area. I hear them, their loud raspy calls, then see these rather large birds in flight as if hopping from one small tree top to the next. They call to one another, pack like in behavior as they move over and through the landscape. The windy air puts its chill to my naked face and penetrates the thin layer of these sweat pants I wear. I glance at the thermometer, hung on the deck's railing to note the 30 degrees F and feel this is less than ample clothing for a February morning. Still the view holds me here. The unpreserved wood deck remains wet from yesterdays rain, dark and slick beneath my sandled feet. Out beyond the trees where the land becomes flat and the creek is held within its trench, most of winter's snow has retreated, offering downcast grass stalks mostly flattened by a couple of months being blanketed beneath the heavy white. Chipping sounds and a quick movement of little wings catch my attention. There is a dark-eyed junco among the bare branched willow bush at the edge of my dull, now dormant lawn. The sun is a cheerful thing on a chilly morning. Cheerful yet powerless to warm my bones in this winter's environment. It brightens the tall ponderosa pines as well as the plowed muddy fields that stretch out to the north beyond the flat creek bottom-land. Winter after the snow has melted off yet before the onset of spring has a certain quality that holds the cold exposing the raw harshness this land can offer. I feel the hairs on my head being blown by the wind as the cold begins to augment sensing, time to go back inside where hopefully the fire has begun to heat the room.


February 06, 2007

Another morning and another day. For me the day started with a disturbing telephone noise, one ring, then nothing more. It came into my consciousness as if possibly a dream yet I know better as I am quite sure of its source. I was able to drift back into real dream for another short period of time. Finally I awoke again, trying to focus on the small clock on my bed-stand which remained a blurry image through many attempts at blinking to clear what ever it is preventing focused sight in those first moments of most every day. The dream comes back clearly to my conscious mind for a few fleeting moments. Consisting of a convoluted glimpse at a chosen path from long ago, now little more than a reminder that I long for a condition in living which has thus far alluded this life. The eyes finally focus on the clock as I realize the quality of light which has filled the room while in a slumber of dreaming.

Now with coffee in reach of my hand, I sit and peck out words. There is some sun, highly filtered through a layer of cloudy sky. It is a rather soft light, consistent with many a winter's day here on the Palouse. The temperature outside has warmed allowing the frozen grip to release its water to the streams. My mind gives raise to patterned forms on the landscape as I gaze out upon my window's vista. I see the waves of snow deposited on a storming wind down on the flat below where a wetland is filling for spring's water-fowl to dabble in. Here and there the grayish dead grasses of last season protrude up through the now broken snow-scape for a last gasp at dominion and will soon relent to the next generation of another spring. My mind sees a pattern like the spotted skin of a dalmatian where the grass and snow alternate dominance. Farther in the background the creek is filling with the melt cutting through the deeply packed snow of a long winter, now giving to this new found heat. The season will change right before my eyes if I am observant enough to capture the images through this transition.

The land offers this seasonal drama most years though not always. I remember years without these long periods of snow covering the ground due to drought conditions and heat during winter. But I prefer winter to have this quality offering a reflected brilliance of white. It defines the season like a boundary. Then, like now, the boundary breaks down, bringing this transition followed by yet another splendid spring of blue skies over these fields then green. Soon the migrant birds will return to add their part and a quality to the coming season. These days of winter my bird feeder attracts but a few species. I find it amazing that birds are able to chip out a living here when winter closes the land beneath its snowy blanket. Yet there I see them looking out through the windows. They remain busy through out the light of day. I find my wonder as to what I provide them with the feeder. Would they otherwise migrate to other places were this sunflower seed source absent. None the less, I enjoy the opportunity to watch the birds attracted by the feed. I have made a log book in which I record the species of wild birds I observe here where I live. During this long stretch of winter, I refrain entering data as it is static with but four or five species in this area. Occasionally there comes an odd sighting which I will record in the log. Most winters I have a visit by Bald Eagles. They perch at the top of one of these trees that my land offers up here in the midst of the farmed land surrounding home. This place is quite like an island with mature pine trees on a sea of tilled up farmland.

Again I am somehow reminded of the early morning dream. The telephone won't ring with this computer being online. Time to transition.


February 05,  2007

Here it is another day starting for me. I found little sleep which leaves me here with the deep dark of night hanging to the time. I am hearing the radio, a seemingly informed person speaking on world politics. If one were to put the content of radio programs into boxes, sorted by category, I wonder how many boxes there would be? Not that it matters. I am unsure that there is very much at all that matters in the long term. If one could pop away from this current location to see the expanse of this universe and conclude that anything a human can do could matter across that scale, would be indeed astounding. Thus the box which one might place the subject matter of any radio program should then have no significant impact to anything that matters.

With such a point of view how can anything done matter in the least? I find it to be true and this very thing causes my point of view on the world, on life, and on a sense of purpose in living, to be out of what I believe is considered to be normal. I certainly do not choose to remain focused on the human endeavor as something to aspire to. It could be that in other parts of the world the human endeavor is filled with good constructive things contributing to the better good and I, being here in the USA, simply have no access to these good virtues other humans may do to fulfill their life dreams. It seems there is a potential to do good. I am listening to this talk radio which is discussing the war, the criminal behavior of the current president, the conformist behavior of the congress, and the potential for a spread of war to a greater arena in the Middle East. I find it very disturbing to understand that this kind of information though somehow may be good true information, does little more than to show how absurd this modern society is. As a people the country supports murder. We pay for the murder of many individuals every day. We play a very large roll in the spread of weapons, of weapons systems and of new high tech ways to proliferate killing. I have questioned the ethics of being a supplier of the tools for war as a business for years. Those who play in the political arena of our world should care enough about life to put an end to the proliferation of lethal weapons.

I wish to aspire to high ideals, to peace, to art, simply to kindness in the human condition.


February 04, 2007

Dull Gray Day

The day has been dull. It is truly a condition which I know as normal for winter here in the Inland North-West of USA. Days seem a never ending gray in quality of mind as well as condition beyond these walls. This day is quite typical, gray, wet and near void of something to bring enthusiasm. Breakfast is a pot of rolled cereal grains cooked in a suited proportion of H2O, until tender with milk added at serving time, eaten from the cooking pot. My self allotted coffee is gone, the day goes on and on. I would like to feel the stunning warmth of the sun as though it were perfect and fit in this day's sky. I long to hear the sound of robins singing at dawn. I long for spring and the willingness known to the bulbs that push up their early flowers of the season yet to come. I feel awash, blended into the gray of winter's day. I eat this cereal with a knowing that this day will soon become tomorrow, followed by yet more tomorrows which will eventually add up to spring and it's bloom of flowers alive with brilliant color, the song of robins at dawn's early light. Another dull gray day is passing.

January 26, 2007

 Gray frost, Morning light 

The cold of the outside world has shown up obvious this morning. Most of the outer most exposed pine needles appear as gray green under a thin vale of crystalline water. This morning's frost is clinging tight to most of the exposed area across this landscape. I wish to remain indoors protected in this cloak of heat. Although winter's grip has softened a bit over the past few days, delivering relief from a recent arctic blast, there remains strong evidence of mid January. There are many large portions of land now free of snow as I look out today. The mosaic changes daily. I imagine the snow will return, replacing that which has melted, yet there is no guarantee in weather beyond understanding that weather happens. Soon the sun shall crest this hill. The captured crystalline water of night will likely give way as the day progresses. It seems that change is the only constant in this universe. 

My day usually begins with the computer. There are a few priorities which call before this machine captures my attention. First is generally my desire to replenish heat with fire in the stove. I am very fond of morning's coffee also. Mornings are rather ritualistic in a way. My behavior has a definite pattern which I observe and sometimes laugh at. Some mornings I have inner conflict as to which priority should take precedence, coffee or heat. Lately the heat state has commanded rule. Open the stove, evaluate the condition inside, take appropriate action to make heat again fill this room. It is a dry fact, evaluation followed by action, sometimes a difficult trick while the brain retains the lingering effects of sleep. Sometimes the fire is totally out and other times their remains large glowing hot chunks containing that desired heat. I like the latter when winter conditions cling to the season. It means the room is usually somewhat warm with a room thermometer value greater than 50�F. These are the mornings I find ambiguity my first act of the day. Sometimes I find myself in the kitchen, pulling the jar of coffee beans and the grinder from storage before I think of room temperature. I have been in mid act of preparing coffee when an overwhelming will comes to make the fire happen. Other mornings I walk directly to stove's door. After these two tasks, coffee and heat are satisfied I push that computer button to open this realm. 

Many years back I was introduced to a course of study called, “The Artist's Way” by Julia Cameron. It is one of those 12 step programs which deals with being human and being an artist, very interesting. One of the steps dealt with a temporary modification of behavior. That is where I was introduced to Morning Pages. Morning pages is a behavior of getting up and going directly from the sleep state to a state of writing out ones thoughts (can't do this practice here in winter as the fire always calls). It is done preferably in isolation, allowing one's self to be alone, focused on their own thoughts, at the start of a given day, free of outside inputs (radio, talk with others etc.). The goal is to write out three pages of “what ever comes to mind” while refusing to relent to any temptation of disturbance beyond one's own thought. This step was to succeed at this process for x number of weeks, likely it was 12 weeks. While I was going through that process daily (and I did do it) a lot became clear to me. I found myself altered in what I consider a good way. I actually continued the practice for years, filling several spiral bound notebooks before I converted to writing them with a computer's keyboard. And now I have a rather large folder of these writings of daily self talk. Sometimes I still do this practice of getting up and writing first thing, before I am influenced by the radio or what is happening in the world beyond these walls. 

My normal morning now consists of the coffee fire duet followed by using the computer. I look at several web sites regularly. I like knowing something about the geological happenings of the earth daily. There are a group of USGS sites which cover earthquakes which are connected to near real time sensors. I can look at these sites and know about the shaking of our earth's crust. It seems very interesting to get a sample of this information in my mind which I follow over time. I guess I see patterns in where earthquakes happen. There are spikes in the frequentness of earthquakes in given areas and there are many areas which are seemingly void from this kind of disturbance. Volcanoes also capture my interest. I wish I knew of or there were a better system of delivering information about volcanoes. There are several sites which express volcanic activity around the world but these are unlike the earthquake sites. I guess the difference is that earthquakes are distinct events short in duration where as volcanoes can be in a state of eruption for long periods. I usually follow these by looking at the weather forecast before I go on to news. News. I wish there were more good news. Email fits into the scheme of my mornings somewhere also. Fact is I have a note now that just arrived. 

Sun has crested the hill now. The gray green is in its transition toward green and there are sparkling reflections bouncing off the snow in my yard. Time to go. 


January 24, 2007

Morning with the fire and coffee.

In the early part of my day, not to say it is early because here the sun has been up for hours but I just found myself in bed, content in my dreaming for hours longer than what I have found to be normal lately. Dreams can inspire me to continue dreaming at times. The peaceful adventure of some of my dreams lingers on in my conscious waking time like the remnant taste of my coffee long past its exposure to my mouth. Yet the waking comes at last with the crackle of the wood stove as its heat again fills the space from overnight chill. I find the sun to be cheerful as it is so often hidden beyond a bank of cloud in winter. This Palouse country of north-central Idaho is quite unique among the places to be found. Snow is melting off the rolling hills now. It shows off a patchwork of gray and white. The wandering shapes formed by wind blown snow thrown into leeward pockets as similarly it blew the soil which composes this land through the eons of time. The depth of small cornice deposits can remain long after the general landscape has melted away. The solar strength, angle and land aspect combine to create this magnificent vista witch changes daily until winter's grasp on the land gives way to warmer days.

I am continually reminded of my dreams in the thoughts that crop up. I do enjoy those dreams of the adventure. I am now unable to participate in such adventure as injury to the body has brought me physically to a near standstill. Yet in dream I can find my way out of my body's shell and into a sort of artificial experience which in its moment can seem so real and fulfilling. I am able to dream of walking through my world, running through it, planting trees and observing their future growth. I can enjoy the successes of completing rehabilitation projects if only in my mind. I so long to again be out on the land walking up the streams on wader covered legs collecting data about habitat condition. Little bits of information, like 23% cobble embeddedness and 0.67 M of Riffle come to mind. With fondness I look back at the memory of a Bank-Cover rating of 3 because I understand the significance of the data. Last night's dream contained a glimpse back at trees I had planted the year previous. I saw those trees and made a mental mark of their condition as viewed from a distance. They were but small green blobs on a grass covered slope among a few clumps of brush and stumps. I wonder how this is possible to have memories of memories while dreaming. It seems that dreams are invented in their moment, yet that may not be true. It could be that dreams are revisited while dreaming which might allow the possibility of the memories which occur in my dreams. The brain is a wondrous thing.

My morning can be filled with thoughts from reality also. I look out through these windows and see the countryside asleep under the frozen blanket today. Some thawing has occurred in the past two days. The birds that come to my feeder always look cheerful to me. I know it is just my thought of cheer in seeing them rather than theirs. Their activity and aliveness is a reminder. Their lives demand the relentless need of energy intake, eat or die. I am glad that our evolution has brought us to this end where we have storage of food. I look out at the world understanding it is a time for rejuvenation. Were there to be a disruption in the supply of goods today, I would surely perish. It may be better to leave such possibility of thought in the deep recesses, hidden and unvisited. Yet a reality such as that could come to be very rapidly and I know it to be true. But like the taste of the coffee which lingers now I will move on. Soon an orange will fill my sense of taste, supplanting coffee. The morning closes. The fire still crackles in the corner. An orange, what a nice thought.


January 23, 2007

Ethics and Stuff  
I often wonder about human behavior. There are so many influences on what we do from day to day. The basic demands are the demand to feed, the demand for shelter, and the demand for clothing. These demands may be the most influential parts that drive humans as basic habitual stuff. Sometimes behavior comes straight from these three primal demands, where as; other times the fringe of need can motivate one to "do" something. The need to feed causes us to seek a way to provide ourselves food. For most of us that means that four letter word work comes into play. To work one has to physically move from the shelter we call home to the work place. Most in this country drive in automobiles or small trucks to get there. That in-tern causes the use of fuel, rubber, petroleum lubrication products, glass to see through, plastic and steel for the outer shell, copper wires, gears, motors, etc. That whole brings me to think of the ethics of using these materials to fulfill our basic needs.
So we use artificial means of transportation basically as a means to deliver our bodies to our place of work. This allows us to earn the money which provides us with our feed in what ever form we prefer. The money also provides us the ability to purchase housing and clothing. Which brings us to expendable capitol. It is expendable capitol which I feel causes the planet so much harm. Most humans spend their expendable income, even spend more than they can earn which I find to be a troublesome behavior outside the scope of this written intent. People get hung up on collecting stuff, pretty stuff, happy making stuff, luxurious stuff. Much of these things are un-necessary to have but the demands of our society bring these things into play as desirable items. The desire then becomes a demand followed by a habitual behavior to be saturated by luxury items. Stuff like convenience products, paper towels, disposable cutlery and dishes seem to me totally out of the boundaries of what we humans should do.
Well I find myself in quite an ambiguous self conflict. I like having things too. I like the convenience and the luxury of stuff. Yet I am conscious enough to understand that most of the stuff is in some way harmful to use/consume. Here in the USA we are fed images which instill the desire to have stuff we really do not need. There is enough power in the message to overturn our logical minds, which allows us the will to reject the logic of considering what being without this stuff would be. I really like having stuff. I try to refuse the influence of images of stuff to sink into my brain and creating the will to have stuff. It is difficult.
I may revisit this topic or not. What is stated is so incomplete. Just a scratch of the surface of the ethics of having stuff.


January 17, 2007

Ah, the gentile sound of Beethoven's piano sonata no. 8. Now and then I find it very rejuvenating to expose myself to a morning of music from that classical style. I can find myself turned in thought's direction by this simple effort of calling up some of this type music on the computer. It helps me to deal with the gloom of cold winter's days also. The snow is softly drifting down from above as I peck out these words. I have nothing to do that must be done in the moment. Breakfast cooks on the stove, hot cereal, and the day passes with a simple ease. There is want in me for spring to arrive here on a January morning. I'll have to continue my awaiting on that one. I sometimes feel rather trapped in here, wondering how and if I'll ever be able to to get out of the screwed up spine condition to regain a “normal” life. How I long to do what I used to know normal to be. So I have to lift myself out of those thoughts to a higher plane of acceptance and think other thoughts. It is cheerful to think of the birds out at the feeder, to observe their beauty and behavior while they sometimes seemingly cavort around. Animal behavior is quite an interesting observation. Behavior in itself is a curious consideration. Survival benefit is the innate creator of all behavior I would think. And in that I cause myself to wonder why I am writing this here now. Is there survival benefit in writing something like this? I think not. Should that cause my thought on behavior to be altered somehow. Is it that there is a difference between the cause of behavior in humans separate from the behaviors exhibited in other animals. Thought and reasoning may be unique to humans yet in many ways that seems to me, an irrational theory. I do find that there are many thoughts which come to me on occasion which are irrational in nature. In spite of the irrationality, come, these thoughts do. With that I believe it is time to set this group of thoughts aside to allow for something constructive to enter my realm of thought.


January 14, 2007

It has been darn cold for a few days here. The last time I looked, at 2:00 PM it was about 9 degrees F. It has been like this for three days now. The good side is that I invented a new word “brrrreautiful,” because it is cold and beautifully sunny outside. It is too cold to do much outside but I did go out and do a couple of things. I had to put more water in the bird bath so those few birds around here can have a drink of fresh water. I have a heater which keeps it ice free on these cold days. I also took a couple of photos of the ice on my window. It is so beautiful but I was not really able to capture the image. None the less I got this one to share.

Then I went off and took another one of the garden in its dormant time under the icy layer.

I am kind of distracted today with the football games on the TV. I await spring hoping to keep the water in a liquid state within my home's pipes. There is certainly nothing important to share.


January 11, 2007

To anyone who reads. Last night the President of the USA told the nation his plan. I think it is past time for the American people to stand up and voice their opinion even if it is contrary to that of the President. There is a march planned for January 27 in Washington DC. Find out more here. I believe it to be a pivotal time in the world. I believe it is time for the people to make a clear statement to our President that we no longer choose to follow the course he is taking. The President didn't understand what the voters said by electing the Democratic party as the majority in Congress back on November 07. What will it take to cause the President to understand that the people of this nation no-longer wish to participate in his warring policies. What will it take to cause the President to understand that War will never resolve the issues before us. Personally I do not want to kill any person, or every person, who has the will to stand up and voice their opinion against the use of force, even if their communication is expressed by a use of force. The tit for tat, you hit me, I hit you, childish behavior has to come to a close. I do not agree with using force, lethal or otherwise, in any statement between peoples. The world situation has to be looked at from a different point of view. The United States foreign policy should be transformed to one of truly seeking solution rather than pushing what is claimed to be its will, by destructive means. I will say to anyone right now that the actions of force created by the United States in the world today, is the will of a small group of people rather than the will of the majority of this country. Killing without Judicial review is against the ethical behavior standard to civilized peoples. We are civilized aren't we? We will be better off through the use of civil means to resolution to differences, what ever these differences may be. This warring policy of destruction is also contrary to basic human rights. Weapons of war are unable to be Judicial, unable to be thoughtful and unable to provide any justice to any cause. The weapons of war must be set down and abandon as a means to finding peaceful harmonious rule of law. I believe the people of the world want and deserve peaceful co-existence based in the rule of law. Rule of law should be one set forth by the people effected by the laws.


January 10, 2007

    I went out for a short walk today. Not much of a walk just a little short walk as I can only walk short distances any more. Out there in my part of the world it is so serene especially on a snowy winter's day as this was. I walked along in that fresh snow being very observant of the surroundings. The county road of snow covered gravel reveals all the foot traffic of the past several hours. First I passed the tracks of three deer that were heading west along the road before they broke off to the flat creek bottom to the north. Next I crossed the track of a coyote. It was not much of a find seeing these tracks. Down the road at my destination for turning around there were two more tracks left by deer. These two came up to the road, where they turned leaving the road again on the same side with which they arrived at it. Their track went out into the bluegrass field along the creek's low rim.

    On the way back home there was little that caught my attention of the surroundings. I seem to have caught myself up in thought. Thinking of the position in life where I now find myself. Walking down the country road, on a snow covered winter day, alone.

January 09, 2007

    Today I have been sitting here in contemplation of many things.  This time of year brings a lot of beauty to the landscape. I looked out the window at the mosaic pattern of snow, ice and large clumps of grass which could have been just as well pasted as scraps of paper in different shades of gray scale on a carpet.  The pattern so simple yet coming from the complex system of natural processes so far from simple.  It would be a joy to capture the image in a photograph, yet I think it impossible as there is a fore drop of trees which intrudes into this image. My mind has the ability to overcome the needle covered branches of pines between my eye and the vista.  This season brings a mood to the land which is rare and beautiful.  The view is held in an embrace of ice which is hard and slow to change.  The cold grips the land bringing a near constant till new snow comes adding deepening layers to the mosaic.  The layers may reveal stronger contrast in the melt which slowly evolves toward spring.  Then again a sudden warm rain could wash the patterns from view in a rapid way over night or in a single day.  The natural cycle in a winter's day holds true only to winter.  We know that there can be no flower to push forth color here in the icy north.  It will wait the season in stillness, as memory is held in its genes.