Victoria’s Secret

I plead “hay-fever!” Definitely has discombobulated my life—but I am slowly gathering.

And what have I gathered?

I spent a couple of days in Virginia City and Nevada City. Virginia City is a rare exception to all those early settlements that were destroyed by fire. It did not go through that experience, so original wooden buildings from the days of the first gold rush in Montana—1863—are still standing. And contain, in some cases, the last inventory that they held when abandoned in the early 20^th century.

Nevada City, only a scant 1.5 miles away from Virginia City, and now owned by the state, is a testament to a man, Charles Bovey, who with his wife spent much of his life in an effort to safe historical buildings. He purchased land in these two cities and made sure that buildings from around the state in danger of disappearing did not. Fortunately, like-minded folks succeeded his efforts, and they left a living history of what Montana was like in the 1860s.

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The weather turned wintery this past week or so. Hours of rain turning into snow; one of those storms where you are mesmerized by the large, drifting flakes and the weird perspective they give as you drive through them. In the small–very small–town of Wisdom, I was front and center for a mesoscale convective system; 6-7 hours of thunderstorms feeding through one-after-the-other. The first storm was about 6pm and the last around 1am. Just as the thunder, rain and hail was fading away to the NE the flashes of lightening were already visible to the SW. Hail pounding on the roof of Kairos sounds like the end of the world!

But all the rain and snow did pretty much end the fires. I had been still operating under smoky skies and closed roads. The Montana Department of Environmental Quality had declared most of the areas where I have been as “very unhealthy.”

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Does anyone know if kingfishers exhibit a different behavior in the fall? Like being more visible and raucous?

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I watched the hard work of a diligent red-naped sapsucker being exploited by a squirrel and bees. All three species availed themselves of the oozing nourishment exposed by the sapsucker and spent alternating, lengthy periods belligerently claiming the small spot for themselves.

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I assume these are some kind of anchoring system–engineering folks out there have any answers?

???

What are these?

Rock Anchors?

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At some point in my life, I realized that I was composing scenarios of events that hadn’t happened yet; creating dialog for discussions that I was purely guessing might even occur. And to top it off, over in the corner of my imagination, the arbiter of all this—brace yourself—was a frog. Heaven knows where this came from and I am sure that some people, I KNOW someone out there, will label me as having borderline personality disorder or whatever appropriate psychological aberration applies.

I gave up that practice with the frog many years ago, but recently found myself composing thoughts into sentences, then into stories, and thought of those ties to the past. I no longer suffer from the insecurities and fears that probably generated my friendly frog and finely honed, but unrealized, dialogs. But I do find that I now lack that most essential component of our conversational lives: intimacy.

This summer I recognized that I greatly miss conversation, not the how-about-this-weather, how-are-you kind, but the real, nitty-gritty talks you have with folks covering just about anything and everything. In the past I have had some great companions that provided just that breadth and depth to my life. It dawned on me tonight that what I miss most is the intimacy of conversation; the pure, simple act of being close to someone, not sexually or even physically, but mind-to-mind, heart-to-heart.

Surprisingly, this was all triggered by something I read regarding doubts and insecurities in regard to the work that we produce and provide to others. This a quote from Martha Graham:

“It is not your business to determine how good it is nor how valuable nor how it compares with others expressions.

It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channel open.”

A real conversation provides a connectedness with others and requires a knowing of yourself; of what you are giving/offering to others. Yes, it takes “other’ to complete intimacy, but first comes the openness—the honest, simple, unobscured gift of who you are. Conversation helps develop that gift, allows you to bestow it to others, and allows others to do the same.

Though it is very one-sided, my being able to write this blog keeps this channel of me open. And I have a lot to say—just ask the frog.