Category Archives: Metaphor

Character, Emotional Health, Goals and Dreams, Health and Long Life, Metaphor, Photos, Poetry and Prose, Spiritual Well Being, Uncategorized

Survive or Thrive? Putting my house in order

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Cherry Odelberg, November 2011

The fall weather is beautiful.  It makes me want to set my house in order, get rid of the chaff of a lifetime, prepare for a cozy and uncluttered winter. At the approach of 2012, I made it my goal to live the year as though it was all I had been given, a gift of 365 days to thrive or survive.  I have survived, stabilized, reached a rhythm of contentment where I love my life and am mostly free of worry.  Yet, in the remaining two months, I want to thrive.  There are still things to do, places to go, people to see; even as I tuck everything in for the winter. I want to finish strong. Though it is not baseball season, I would love to knock one out of the park before the year’s end. A home run, a victorious finish, that’s what I want. How about you?  Are you exhausted by the time of year or exhilarated by the time of year? I want to align with Caleb:

Mt Garfield from Holy Cross

Give me this mountain!

‘Tho my sight is gone my vision has not dimmed.

Morrow Lake Trail

Give me this mountain,

And renew my strength to mount on eagles wings.

For I have seen you miracles and I believe your promises,

I have run the race, and in your name I now obtain the prize!

Give me this mountain,

One more thing before I die,

Hermits Rest, Morrow Lake

One more chance to prove your promises,

One more war to wage for right,

One more race to run with you right there by my side.

There’s been fire by night and clouds by day,

Manna eaten along the way,

Dry land where the sea had been,

And water from a rock to meet my need.

Morrow Dam Lake

Give me this mountain!

Tho a valley lies beside it,

And Jordan River bound s the other side.

Give me this mountain!

Let me conquer while the young men stand in awe.

I have lived to see this moment and from the highest peak I’ll cry,

Independence Monument, late summer inversion, 2012

“Give me this mountain!

And in peace;

Let me die!”

Cherry Odelberg 1995  (the irony of this date is not lost on me, I was 40 years old when I wrote these lyrics and first recorded the accompaniment)

Emotional Health, Health and Long Life, Metaphor

Off the beaten path

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A few days ago, I chose to walk a local private trail counterclockwise and in doing so, spied a little used foot path that branched off toward the east, but obviously connected with the well worn and maintained bicycle trail a few acres over. I meandered through a couple of dry creeks and around huge fallen boulders and abruptly found myself making an ascent. It was a narrow foot path with not much margin for error or balance.  To my right, a sheer drop off of 15 or 20 feet to the gully; on my left an acute and slippery slope to where the arroyo once again appeared. I realized I must be walking up an arch, a natural bridge over the wash, but the bridge was made of bentonite and random sized rocks. For one heart-stopping moment, I realized I could, in a matter of seconds, meet my doom; either by a fall and injury in an unfrequented area, or in a pile of rubble as the clay gave way.  It never occurred to me to turn around (I might have lost my balance) and soon I was on the other side, marveling at the whimsy of erosion. This clay arch, where doubtless a roiling flash flood tumbled during a downpour three days ago,  is only 100 yards or so downstream from where the much travelled bike path crosses the dry creek bed.  In the opposite direction, thirty yards up this same gulch is the territory of a collared lizard who brightened my day with his breathtaking brilliance a few months ago.Who would have thought?

Life is like that. You can be in a familiar place, only a few hundred paces from where you caught a glimpse of success and suddenly find yourself precariously perched on a bridge made of clay.

When I stepped off the beaten path, I could see the juncture with a familiar and well-traveled bike trail in the distance
As I rounded the boulder near the center of this picture, I found myself abruptly on a clay bridge
This sheer dirt wall fell away on my right, while steep slippery slope was on my left. I was on a narrow ridge.
I realized I was on a clay and loose rock arch
A gulch where waters of flash flood had roiled a few days before
Looking down (dry) stream from where the gulch crosses the bike trail
Looking upstream
…where I spotted my first collared lizard in the spring

It’s not that getting off the beaten path is wrong.  I highly recommend it.  But, it can be pleasantly surprising or even momentarily terrifying.

 

 

 

 

Emotional Health, Health and Long Life, Metaphor, Spiritual Well Being

Dead Lizards on the trail

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From time to time while out walking, I come upon dead lizards on the trail and I wonder, “What went wrong?”  How did it happen, on the vast expanse of trails, that these relatively tiny reptiles were in the wrong place at the wrong time?

How did it happen that this relatively tiny reptile was in the wrong place at the wrong time?

These desert canyons and rocks are the natural habitat for Collared lizards, Whiptails, and at least seven other varieties. I hear dozens of them scurrying from the trail and back into hiding or onto a  safe rock each time I hike. Given that a lizard can run up to 15 miles per hour and a bicyclist on this challenging terrain will not likely approach that speed, it seems odd when the two collide.

Male Collared lizard in my front yard, April 30, 2012
Whiptail May 17, 2012

Oh sure, it is life in the fast lane a mile away on the pavement, where bicyclists speed upwards of 35 miles per hour, jackrabbits and cottontails meet their doom when the rubber meets the road on 1/2 ton vehicles; and danger of mashup lurks for the similarly sized deer, elk, cyclist and desert bighorn. Somehow it just seems a bit melancholy to find the lizards on the everyday, ordinary trails of life.  Not in the fast lane.  Not basking in the sun. Not even slain at their post guarding their territory.  Dead at the crossroads, a casualty of mutual happening by. Somehow, I identify with that.

Lizard going about its business, camouflaged and sunning on a rock May 22, 2012