Sweet Silver Lining

just watching the clouds…

Thirty October 17, 2009

Filed under: raNdOMnesS — dragonfly180 @ 11:51 am
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“A Lady Who Thinks She Is Thirty”

by Ogden Nash

Unwillingly Miranda wakes,
Feels the sun with terror,
One unwilling step she takes,
Shuddering to the mirror.

Miranda in Miranda’s sight
Is old and gray and dirty;
Twenty-nine she was last night;
This morning she is thirty.

Shining like the morning star,
Like the twilight shining,
Haunted by a calendar,
Miranda is a-pining.

Silly girl, silver girl,
Draw the mirror toward you;
Time who makes the years to whirl
Adorned as he adored you.

Time is timelessness for you;
Calendars for the human;
What’s a year, or thirty, to
Loveliness made woman?

Oh, Night will not see thirty again,
Yet soft her wing, Miranda;
Pick up your glass and tell me, then–
How old is Spring, Miranda?

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Posting this poem (and even just coming across it the other day) is so relevant right now. I am turning thirty in less than a year, and the number is already bothering me. I spent a little under $100 the other day on special cleanser and day cream to help even out my skin and supposedly make fine lines disappear. It hasn’t done anything of the sort, and I just blew my money for nothing. A friend pointed out her eye wrinkles a few weeks ago, so when I took a good look in the mirror later, I realized that I’m getting them, too. Yikes. Yet, as the poem points out, I am still in the Spring of my life, so why should I worry over tiny lines and wrinkles. Yes, they will deepen and I will age, but I am still youthful now, so I should enjoy it until it fades away. Besides, everyone thinks I’m younger than I really am, so I should be happy with that. Now that I’m taking good care of myself, maybe I will age gracefully.

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Fall October 12, 2009

Filed under: raNdOMnesS — dragonfly180 @ 8:37 pm
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406JordonVillageFall
I love this season. There is something delicious and special about the sights and smells of Fall. Summer’s green that was once vibrant to our eyes but that has dulled over time is suddenly disrupted by intense, fiery colors. The air begins to smell like smoke, dead leaves, and winter. The spicy smells of cloves and nutmeg fill people’s homes. Bright orange pumpkins and giant pots of vivid red, yellow, and white mums against brown grass and pale yellow hay bales decorate lawns and front porches.

happy scarecrow
Every Autumn, there is a tug at my heart that makes me feel like I was meant for another place, some picturesque little village in the Northeast, maybe the Catskills, or maybe more Southern than that, the Ozarks perhaps, where there are pumpkin patches and farmers’ markets and real scarecrows and Fall Festivals and color unimaginable. Some place where you actually have to wear sweaters and boots and scarves against the chill of Fall. A place where everyone knows you by name as your move from shop to shop on the quaint little square. Of course, my Autumn Village only exists in my head. Could there be such a special little place? Maybe I will come across it some day.

pumpkin_patch_large
It’s actually pretty strange that I love Fall so much. The vibrant color that it brings is only a precursor of the muted gray and brown that the world will become during Winter. The chilly mornings and evenings are reminders that Summer’s warm breezes will soon be hidden for a while. They are a promise that hard, miserable weather will soon arrive.

Perhaps people need continual change. I retreat from change as much as possible, but although I fear it, sometimes a little change does me good. Maybe change is necessary, something that God understood as He came up with His awesome design. After all, our lives are continually changing and not just with the seasons. As much as I love Summer, I am definitely ready for cooler weather and a different atmosphere by October. I crave a reprieve from the oppressive heat of Mississippi by then. I guess that is why I love Fall so much.

 

Tishomingo Camping Trip October 4, 2009


Did someone claim that camping is stress-free fun? I don’t think so. It was an adventure and definitely enjoyable but not totally stress free. I suggested that Jamie and I go for a little camping trip about a month ago. Primitive camping. You know, the whole tent and sleeping bag and camp fire scenario. I thought that a little trip like that would be a good ‘get-away-from-it-all’ reprieve from the daily grind. Well, a four day trip turned into two which ended up becoming a one night trip into the wilderness, mostly because we decided not to leave on Friday night when we’d both be tired and irritable from work. Mind you, even knowing that it was going to be one night, we had a list almost as long as the notebook paper I wrote it on. The closest I’ve come to roughing it was sleeping in a tent in the wooded area across from a friend’s house in high school. Her parents could have heard us if we’d have yelled. We told stories around the campfire, freaked each other completely out, and all three huddled up together in the humongous tent and slept like babies surprisingly. It’s a nice memory. Anyway, my previous experience with primitive camping wasn’t very realistic, and I really didn’t know what to expect.

We left late because both of us didn’t go to bed early enough on Friday night. It was after 9 a.m. before we left the house. Tishomingo State Park is over two hours away, so it was around lunch when we got there. After we found a nice camp site in the primitive camping area, we headed on over to the Swinging Bridge to check out the trails, the 62 ft. rock that climbers often climb, and the waterfall that the ranger told us about.

tishomingo oct 09 003me and Jake on our hike

tishomingo oct 09 028Jamie and Jake

tishomingo oct 09 034huge rocks scattered the trails

tishomingo oct 09 050the Swinging Bridge

After hiking and checking out that particular trail, we headed back to set up our camp and get our fire going. The tent was very easy to put up and so cute and cozy, just what I wanted. After a little drama about sleeping bags and Jamie’s trip into town to get us some better ones while I stoked the fire and made coffee over it, we chilled out, cooked some hotdogs, and made yummy s’mores with Ghirardelli dark chocolate. I want one just mentioning it they were so good! Jake even got a marshmallow. It got dark and chilly quickly. The moon was full and bright. Since we only had the fire and some chemlites, we decided to snuggle down in our tent and watch a dvd, so we turned in early. Yeah, I know, really roughing it! *lol* The ground was kind of hard and uncomfortable, but it was tolerable. The cold was an issue at first, but after getting down in the sleeping bags, I got pretty warm and was satisfied. It wasn’t as cold as I thought it’d be.

At about 4:30 a.m., I awoke to Jamie’s snoring, and since there were other campers somewhat near us and because I couldn’t sleep for it, I nudged him and told him to turn over. As I was laying there trying to go back to sleep but too awake to do so, I heard what sounded like something being knocked over. It could have been in a neighboring camp, but I wasn’t sure, so I kept listening.  Shortly after, I heard a growl. It wasn’t Jake or Jamie. They were both breathing softly in their sleep. It was deep but short and quiet. I sat up to listen harder. I heard whatever it was growl again, but this time, it was two short almost snort-growls, like something was sniffing the air. Thoughts of bears flashed through my mind, but we had cleaned up all of our food and put it away. It could have been a coyote or dog, I guess. I don’t know, but I was scared. Jamie realized I had sat up and asked me what was going on. I told him what I’d heard. We sat there for a few minutes trying to hear it again, but we didn’t. Jamie was far braver than I was and grabbed the flashlight and slowly unzipped the tent. He looked all around and could see nothing, so he took Jake out and walked around our camp. Soon, I was doubting myself and wondering if I’d just heard Jamie’s belly rumble with hunger.  When I was sure that nothing was going to come back and have us for a late night snack, I dozed back off. I awoke a couple of times to the sound of drops of water hitting the top of our tent. I assumed it was dew dropping from the trees above and went back to sleep. Eventually, I awoke to rain hitting our tent. It is such a soothing sound! We napped for a while, trying to wait out the rain and hide from the cold. We had planned on doing some more hiking Sunday morning after the chapel services, because the rain wasn’t supposed to arrive until the afternoon. We weren’t so lucky, though. During a break in rain, we quickly packed up the truck, loaded up Jake, and headed home (after finding a Waffle House for some coffee and a much needed late breakfast).

It was an interesting trip. We learned some things to do and not to do. For one, we probably won’t take Jake again. It was fun to have him along, but it’s kind of a hassle to take him hiking when he wants to stop for other dogs and people along the trail. Did I mention that he is terrified of the rain and of thunder? He slept at our feet most of the night, but when it began to rain, he crowded us by getting under the sleeping bag with us!

tishomingo oct 09 057

Also, I think we might bring an air mattress next time. The hard ground is just not for me. Taking a lantern would have been nice, especially when I thought there was something sniffing around our campsite. We also found out about a canoeing trip they do daily up there on Bear Creek from April through October, so next time we’ll leave in time to try that.

Well, I think I’m off to go make a few more s’mores, this time over my stove in my nice, warm kitchen!