Saturday Sojourn - Red Rock Canyon, Boulder City, NV

"In wilderness I sense the miracle of life, and behind it our scientific accomplishments fade to trivia."

- Charles Lindbergh






Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area, Boulder City, Nevada



Las Vegas is well known for its "Strip," a main thoroughfare through the city known for its grand hotels, noisy casinos, and opulent entertainment. Sparkle, glitz, and glamour is the name of the game on this street, and there seems to be a never-ending contest of one-upmanship to see which developer can build the most impressive monument to conspicuous consumption. It is an eye-popping experience to travel the four mile length from end to end.

If you continue west of the strip for just another fifteen miles, you will see for yourself how insignificant the human contest to impress really is.

Red Rock Canyon, a protected site of 195,819 acres in Clark County, NV, has been home to no less than six separate cultures of Native Americans through the history of North America. It is a vast expanse of red rock formations, sandstone peaks, and other-worldly plant species.

The scenic delights here make the Las Vegas Strip look like nothing but tiny tacky children's toys. Indeed, you know as you hike through any of the dozens of trails that all that glitz and glamour is close by...somewhere, but there is absolutely no evidence of it, no matter where you turn in any direction. You are surrounded only by the greatest grandeur imaginable...the stunning beauty of the Earth herself. 

This was our second visit to Red Rock Canyon in about six months, and I suspect that we will continue to explore it each time we come to visit the Happy Couple. I can't imagine ever "finishing" this tour.

Here are just a few of the images I captured on this visit...  

Delicate beautiful flowers are evident, though

almost all are shielded by a phalanx of thorns, 

 Huge rock monoliths scatter the landscape

Look closely and you can still see the
ancient petroglyphs on the cave walls...

The flowers and berries were bright spots of color in the scenery

...and even felt as lush as an English garden at times.

The rock formations were a kaleidoscope of colors...

 ...and some of the paths were a deep soft red.

 The scrub oaks found their places between the immense rocks

...and the Joshua Tree cacti were always close by

Some of the formations appeared to be frowning...

But this one was definitely smiling...

Today I hope you can take a few minutes to drink in the powerful beauty of the earth around you.

What a strange choice of music...you may think that as you listen.  I did listen to hours of Native American music as I prepared to choose something to honor and reflect the Southwest for this post, but my mind kept drawing me back to Edward Elgar and his majestic music of Nimrod from "Enigma Variations." This version is conducted by Daniel Barenboim with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, opening the 1997 season at Carnegie Hall.

Elgar never held back. This evocative piece is indicative of the sweeping panoramas, the magnificence of nature, and the deeply felt emotions of the day. Enjoy. 

Saturday Sojourn - Sakura (Cherry Blossom)

"Live here on earth, blossom! As you move and shake, flowers fall. My flowers are eternal; my songs are forever. I raise them, I, a singer. I scatter them, I spill them, the flowers become gold; they are carried inside the golden place. Ohuaya ohuaya."
- Nezahualcóyotl (1402-1472, ruler of Texcoco, now Mexico City
 from display at Museum of the American Indian, Smithsonian, Washington, D.C.



Sakura, Digital photograph, Reya Mellicker, 2011


I had the good fortune to visit my dear friend, Reya, in Washington D.C. just two weeks ago at the height of cherry blossom season. Another dear one, Linda, traveled from her home in Oklahoma, and the three of us experienced the beauty together. I 'm still reeling from the enormity of it all.  What an extraordinary display, and what healing time it was for me.

Here's our walk around the Tidal Basin (which, itself, covers 107 acres). It turned out to be quite a hike, which Linda  later affectionately dubbed the "Cherry Blossom Death March".  Trust me, it was worth every blister!

As we walked down East Capitol and the profusion of blooms came into view, it produced a sort of 'cherry blossom euphoria', as you can see by the looks on our faces.

"Frothy!" proclaimed Linda...and who wouldn't be euphoric upon seeing this?



 



Photo by Reya Mellicker



I even admit to tasting one of these beautiful blossoms...it was spicy and pungent.

At the end of our sojourn,  Reya went to the water's edge to dance shamanically among the blossoms.

 Photo by Linda Van Treese

It was a graceful and beautiful way to give thanks for an unforgettable experience, and to say goodbye to Sakura, the cherry blossoms.

The music selection for today is the beautiful traditional Japanese folk song, "Sakura, Sakura". There are dozens of renditions, from those using ancient tradititional Japanese instruments, to modern jazz arrangements.

I selected this version, an original arrangement for piano created and performed for you by Masashi Yamanaka. His arrangement is a heartfelt depiction of the tiny yet magnificent flowers. When I listen, I can see the blossoms as they come into full bloom, flutter on the trees, and fall to the ground. Enjoy.

After the Rain

"Under my head till morning; but the rain
Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh
Upon the glass and listen for reply...."
- Edna St Vincent Millay

Take a Bow - Reya Mellicker, digital photograph, 2011

The rain came in uneasy waves through the night, each storm more insistent than the one before it. The charged skies cackled constantly like hags on their brooms, and the drops of rain tapped incessantly on the bedroom window.

I rose to watch the skies, and wondered at the sight. Thunderstorms at any time are impressive to watch, but at night, one must use all the senses to see clearly.

I stepped out onto the deck out back by the woods, and felt that fresh, clean, breezy air that always seems to arrive with a storm. The scent of the rain was clear, too, and I found myself wondering why the rain smells the way it does. Arcs of lightning flashed above the treetops, thunder ruptured the silence, and the rain came down in earnest.

There is a funny little tinge of fear I feel as a storm begins, and isn't that a primal feeling? It's a feeling of awe at the unknown and uncontrollable, I think, and probably a universal feeling. Do you feel it, too?

Just as universal as the fear before the storm is the peace we feel after the rain. The world is washed clean, the air is sweet, and we feel the soft stillness left by the storm. Oh, what a beautiful feeling it is after the rain. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about.

I don't know how long this peace will last...well into the morning, I hope. But for now, I'll appreciate each beautiful, quiet, clean, precious moment of "after the rain."

A great big thank you to my sweet friend, Reya, for allowing me to use her exquisite photograph for this post. To see more of her astounding photography, go to her blog, The Gold Puppy.

Another big thank you to a dear friend in the ballet world, Amy T., for the video you are about to see.

Amy is a wonderful ballet teacher in Ohio, and says about this piece, "...Every great once in a while we get to feel like we are the wind, the ocean, and the sun, and make others believe it and take them on that journey along with us."

Well said, Amy.

I know you'll feel the beautiful peace of "After the Rain" as I did. Enjoy.


This is Damian Smith and Yuan Yuan Tan of San Francisco Ballet in "After The Rain" choreographed by Christopher Wheeldon, and performed at the Fire Island Dance Festival in 2010. The music is "Spiegel Im Spiegel." from the album "Alina," by Arvo Part.

 

Saturday Sojourn - Reckless Spring

"Everything is blooming most recklessly; if it

were voices instead of colors, there would be an

unbelievable shrieking into the heart of the

night." - Rainer Maria Rilke

What a difference a day makes. It was as if Spring had overslept and was suddenly awakened by the alarm clock. "Hurry!" she exclaimed to the trees, shrubs, flowers, and birds. "We're late...get busy!"

I went outside to find that things were blooming quite recklessly, not with the usual springtime order of events. The leaves on the deciduous trees suddenly decided to unfurl in all their sweet chartreuse splendor...

Though there is still no sign of the unusually stubborn daffodils and tulips, colors on the shrubs and trees collided against each other...

Wild Dogwood (yellow blossoms)

The beauty of the songbirds... purple martins, bluebirds, finches, and cardinals, combined with the less melodic crows, grackles, and jays, to produce a cacophony of sound that never ceased.

And the mysterious "Brigid's Gate" down the path from our house, which looked so barren this past winter...

Now looks like this...

...and I suppose before too much longer, it will be completely hidden from sight.

I missed the usual commune I've come to expect in the last few days with Brother Heron. Instead, he ceded the pond at Weldon Spring's nature path to a fisherman in human form, one who was much larger, noisier, and less graceful than he.

When I finished my meditation, though (seated at a pondside bench) I opened my eyes to see him (the heron...not the very large man) fly overhead to the sanctuary of the back woods.  So at least we said hello today.

Apparently, spring this year will be a raucous event filled with the chaos that invariably accompanies oversleeping. Each spring is different, I suppose, and this one promises to be memorable.

Today I hope you witness spring...somewhere.

The music I selected today is a little longer than most I choose (I never want to take up too much of your precious time), but I promise you this one is worth the seven and a half minutes out of your day.

This is Beethoven's "Sonata Op 57, 3rd Movement", or "Appassionata." This video is of Valentina Lesitsa in rehearsal before a Vienna concert in 2009. Like Spring today, it's filled with excitement, passion, and a bit of chaos. I think you'll be amazed by how fast Lesitsa's fingers fly at the end. Enjoy!

Seeing Flowers

"Happy are those who sing with all their hearts, from the bottoms of their hearts. To find joy in the sky, the trees, the flowers. There are always flowers for those who want to see them."
-  Henri Matisse



Weldon Spring is acting a bit like Toronto this year. A few feeble daffodils have appeared, rather faintheardedly, but the cold wet weather has yet to yield to enough sunny hours necessary for the usual springtime profusion of blooms.

This means I'm forced to look for other forms of beauty on my regular walks at the Weldon Spring City Hall nature path. Here's what's been going on:

The new Big Red Barn (replacing the old one that burned down last summer) was installed in the fall.

It's very handsome, don't you think?

Apparently, plans are underway to spruce up the front of

City Hall as well:

They're breaking up the old concrete driveway...

And preparing for a brand new two lane road.

Brother Heron and I have become much better at

not frightening each other...

Along with the Canada Geese, he now allows me to watch him fish for his dinner...

...though I'm pretty sure he went 0 for 5 on this outing.

I found this perfectly formed little home for some creature

in the back part of the trail, which calls for further

investigation as Spring continues... 

and the sky was as beautiful as any impressionist painting...



So yesterday I tried, and will continue to try, to see the flowers. As Matisse suggests, sometimes it's simply a matter of choice.

Today, I hope you see the flowers.

I've selected a beautiful orchestral work to share with you this morning, Gabriel Fauré's "Pavane in F-sharp minor, Op. 50" written in 1887. This one is performed by the NHK Symphony Orchestra in Tokyo, and is conducted by Vladimir Ashkenazy (be still, my beating heart!).

Fauré wrote this pavane ('pavane' is a piece of music named for a stately royal court dance of the same name) for a patron of his, Countess Elisabeth Greffulhe, and it originally included dancers and a chorus of singers in a spectacle to be performed at her garden parties in the Bois de Boulogne. Oh, yeah...if I close my eyes I can see the flowers now. Enjoy!