Turkey Flight

I am watching the wild turkeys fly from the roof of my house up to the high branches of the sycamores along the creek. They are tucking themselves in for the night. Light is fading so no photos of their graceful, yes graceful, gliding in the air with their huge wings spread wide.  They are native to North America and now found in Three Rivers, frequently on the meadow below the cottage.

“The turkey is sometimes called the earth eagle. It has a long history of association with spirituality and the honoring of the Earth Mother.  It is the symbol of all the blessings that the Earth contains, along with the ability to use them to their greatest advantage. The turkey can live to be twelve years old. Twelve is a significant number in that the earth revolves around the sun in twelve months, reflecting a tie between the turkey and the honoring life cycle of the earth.”    from Animal Speaks by Ted Andrews

(Ted Andrews died October 24, 2009 at age 57)

First Snow…

Snow dusting Case Mountain, view from Cort Cottage.

Trees who wait…

There is a kind of lull here, some of the trees are dropping leaves, the Chinese pistache trees planted almost 30 years ago.  I’ve just learned that the female trees have red berries that turn blue, and so the tree that was planted by birds or winds or serendipity at the edge of cottage deck is telling me of her nature…

 

 

 

 

 

 

The leaves are almost gone, a short window of autumn…unless you pay attention to buckeye trees, here long before houses and human planted trees near front doors of green metal roofed abodes.  The buckeyes are the trees that are in a hurry to meet each new season, so they can slow way down and wait for the rest of us to catch up with them.

They lose their leaves half way through summer, and many people think they are dead (yes, I know I have written about this before in this 7-year almanac. It’s possible, almost necessary, to fall in love with trees over and over again.)

This place is full of nuance and life, change, mountain, sky, bigness and smallness and tree-friends that teach of letting go and waiting.

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Break open your personal self
to taste the story of the nutmeat soul.

These voices come from that
rattling against the outer shell.

The nut and the oil inside
have voices that can only be heard
with another kind of listening.

If it weren’t for the sweetness of the nut,
the inner talking, who would ever shake a walnut?

We listen to words
so we can silently
reach into the other.

Let the ear and mouth get quiet,
so this taste can come to the lip.

Too long we’ve been saying poetry,
talking discourses, explaining the mystery
outloud.  Let’s try a dumb experiment.

(from The Essential Rumi, translations by Coleman Barks with John Moyne, new expanded edition 2004, originally published in 1995.)

The First Rain…

It’s raining! I know for those folks who live on the East Coast, this is really passe. Every year when the first rain returns after the long, hot, and very dry summer, it’s such a relief.  The earth is soaking it up.  I have hope again that Spring will return once more.  I know it’s Autumn, but rain means green to me, and green means breakthrough from the ground up, and wildflowers are not far behind.

Hello Autumn!!!

The season changes here in just one day.  Monday it’s summer with 100 degrees, the next day it’s 85 degrees, then the next day down to the high 70’s.  It is always such a relief to have the Fall show up.  The weather is so perfect these days.  Please excuse the mundane, trite nature of the posting.  I am just so glad to feel the change in temperature.

The cottage has several weekends open in October…..call for a reservation.

(photo by Elsah)

Waning Summer

Yes, I am always glad when the warmth (really I mean heat) of summer is on its way out.  Yet, I do feel a nostalgia coming over me this morning as I sit out early on the deck with bees buzzing, blue jays slurping at the birdbath, ravens squawking from high trees and the muffled loud swish sound of the river across the canyon.  The sun is just beginning to pour itself slowly, and then, with a blinding flash over the gently sloped mountain top.

The earth is still moving, turning, spinning at the speed of 1000 miles per hour.  Even when we finally allow ourselves to sit still we are not really still.

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[on a planetary note:
early, in the pre-dawn sky, you can see bright Venus smiling down at you outside the cottage window and then later, in the dark night sky, expansive Jupiter shows up to give us a "star" to make a very big wish upon.]

Jupiter via pds.jpl.nasa.gov

Venus via crystalinks.com

Deep into summer, high into mountains…

Summer is a reflective time, a slowing down for me.  I work at chores early in the morning.  Then spend time with the outside world online for a while online.  Maybe some art-making or “putzing around” in the studio.  Of course, a nap, if needed. And swimming in the river in late afternoon, where the breeze is cool from brushing over the melted snow that is called River.

The mountains know a slightly different summer, with high elevation meadows and big trees grinning wide to the glorious big sky.

Cottage meadow summer-style

Big Trees summer-style

Closing in on Summer

We are few days away from the Summer Solstice when the sun is supposed to stand still.  I am getting into my summer mode, slowing down, watching the sky, and smelling the river as I walk in the mornings.

The birds seem to be extra busy around here for some reason.  It could be that they are just loving the birdbath water I keep fresh for them.  When I sit on the deck near the bird bath, they are landing on the clothes lines just a few feet from my head.  They are chirping and talking all the time.  I saw a hummingbird sit on a branch eight inches away from a phoebee who was flitting his tail.  They seemed to be talking away at each other.  I longed for a translator.

The cottage has been slow in booking this summer, so there are scattered openings through August.  It would be best for you to call or email with your dates and keep your fingers crossed that it is available for you. I have always said that the cottage stays open for the people who are supposed to have it.

That could be you! (PS, this Father’s Day weekend is still open….very unusual.)

Bridge to Nature

I have always known that Cort Cottage Bed and Breakfast is a bridge to nature for its guests.  Bridging between city and country, between fast pace and slow pace, between asphalt and mountains, between high tech and low tech, even though the cottage has wireless internet, and between stress and relaxation…

Looking from the Dinely Bridge on my early morning walk today, the Kaweah River has dropped ten feet since last week but it is still rushing by.

upriver  downriver

We locals wait to swim in the river until late June, all through July and early August.  Swimming now would be placing your life in a precarious position.  When you come to Cort Cottage in mid-summer, I tell you about one of the best swimming holes in Sequoia National Park, one with granite pools and many waterfalls. I also say that swimming in the river washes your sins away.

Walking in the early morning…

I have two wonderful walks near home.  One is just down the road, at the road’s end, and goes up the hills and mountains on BLM land.  It is a famous place for mountain bikers, horse riding and walking with dogs and friends. But lately, I have been drawn to the river, which is down the road.  I drive down to the Veteran’s Memorial Building and walk across the highway to the Dinely Bridge, crossing high over the Kaweah River.  I turn left at Kaweah River Drive and walk for a mile or so and back.  This little “Drive” is a private road that hugs the river in places and goes higher, with river and mountain vistas in other places.  It has shade and wildflowers and creatures.  Can you see the little quail perched on the fence? It would not stay still long enough for me to get a close-up view.

I can direct you to both of these walks when you visit Cort Cottage.