......camping with nana

Yogis,
Every summer I spend at least a few nights camping in my backyard. It’s the best of both worlds! Woods, wildlife and stars……no travel, a kitchen for cooking and a shower in the morning.

My grandson has been wanting to camp with me. Last weekend I decided to sleep out and checked in with my son but they were hoping to go to their bay house for the weekend. Options were for me to go with them or them to drop Johnny off here. He turned 7 earlier this month so I figured he was old enough to choose.

I got a text later that night. Johnny chose ‘camping with nana’! It kind of sounds like the name of a weekly outdoor tv show. Hooray!

I ran to the store to stock up on camping essentials. Marshmallows, graham crackers, chocolate bars, burgers, watermelon and glow sticks. He didn’t own a sleeping bag so a quick overnight order was placed. The owl visited me that evening and I kindly asked it to return the next night so my grandson too could experience the thrill of a hoot in the night air.

He arrived the next morning raring to go. Luckily, I had a full agenda planned.

Off to Glen Echo park we went to ride the carousel. The same carousel in fact that his father rode often as a young boy. We walked the park. Played on the playground. Visited the aquarium. And of course, picked up a pizza for lunch.

Now it was time for the camp activities to commence. First on the agenda…..prepare the firepit. Stick hunting ensued.  I showed him the way to layer and he loved the idea of using dried pinecones as fire starters. He found the perfect marshmallow roasting sticks and got them ready.

Next, setting up the tent. He helped with the poles and immediately wanted to get in and check it out. Right on cue, Amazon showed up with a sleeping bag. Pillows in. Tent ready.

After a hearty dinner we lit the fire which blazed, cracked and popped. He explained to me the physics behind the cracking. Much time was spent throwing sticks on the fire which was perfect since all the summer storms had sent quite a bit of wood down on my property. The smells, the heat, the sounds.

Smores were next. Messy, gooey and oh so delicious. As we sat licking our sticky fingers the owl arrived and sang us her song. Thank you, owl!

Washed up and teeth brushed we lit our glow stick necklaces and climbed into the tent. ‘I don’t think I will be able to sleep with all the noise out here. I need quiet’ he announces. I tell him that is part of being a camper and that I know he can do it. We lie there together and look at the stars. Before long he is sound asleep.

I feel movement. Opening one eye I find him looking at me. It is 6:05. The sun is rising, and the birds are awake and ready for the day. We see how many bird calls we can identify. I tell him that opening my eyes as morning is breaking is my favorite part of camping. The sky overhead turns pink. We are both awed.

One of the great joys of being a grandma is being able to share your gifts and passions with someone you love with all of your heart.  My hope is that when Johnny is a grown man with kids of his own and he takes them camping, he remembers that his very first experience was…..camping with nana.

Anyone want to come to ‘camp nana’?
SARAH

.....first impressions

Yogis,
My niece was dropped off at college this week. Being a freshman in a new room, a new state with new people is one of life’s big leaps. No one knows her. No one knows her past or her story. What she likes or what she doesn’t. Where she ‘fits’. College presents us with a clean slate.

I remember so clearly being dropped off myself. My parents waving goodbye while we were welcomed by a beer truck at the entrance to the dorm. I was seventeen and believed that I could choose to be whoever I wanted to be in college. I finetuned the first impression that I wanted to present as this new Sarah. Not that there was anything necessarily wrong with the old me, but I felt I could be cooler.

I knew already that first impressions are hard to get past. We humans, with our forever judging minds, make a determination about another in moments of our first introduction. How they look, move, speak. We walk away from the encounter sure we can sum them up in a couple sentences. We don’t even have to meet them but can simply watch them from afar. We know ‘their kind.’ We have created an image and we carry it into our next meeting. As if human beings were that simple…….

But aren’t we all wearing masks? Is what another sees when they meet you the true you? Or maybe you are you presenting what you think they want to see.

It’s a practice to not allow the outer to distract you from what is inside the other. I decided several years ago that I wanted to take on that challenge. To look beyond the persona and see the person. I’ve made it a habit (as best I can).

To others it sometimes appears that I am naïve. Don’t you see how that other person is? Don’t you realize they are taking advantage of you? I’m often told I am ‘too nice.’

I can clearly see what others are seeing but am learning that with time I will also be able to see the deeper layers. The ones that matter. Giving everyone the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps they are going through a challenging time. Maybe they were always praised for being the loud jokester. Or they weren’t ever given permission to speak up for themselves. We don’t know what molded the mask, but we can choose to get to know who is inside of it.

There are those times you meet someone and there is an instant connection. You look in their eyes and see them. Often though you must dive beneath the hard crust of the first impression and see what lies below. Think about friends you have now and what you thought of them the first time you met. Or even your spouse. A teacher you dreaded but by the end of the year became a lifelong mentor.

At our center we are all the same. That is where I want to get to know you……

Never quite pulled off that ‘cool’ impression,
SARAH

.....zinnia

Yogis,
It’s summer so I am immersed in flowers. Black eyed susans, passionflower, echinacea and sunflowers all hold a special place in my heart. What would I do without cardinal flower, goldenrod and bergamot. But I think if I had to pick one flower as my all-around go to garden favorite, zinnia may be my choice.

According to Wikipedia:   Zinnia is a genus of plants of the tribe Heliantheae  within the family Asteraceae. Members of the genus are notable for their solitary long-stemmed flowers that come in a variety of bright colors. The genus name honors German master botanist Johann Gottfried Zinn (1727–59).

According to me:  Zinnias are fantastic!

I don’t feel like my garden is complete without zinnias. Although they are not native to our area, they are easy going plants, draught and pest tolerant, happy to share space with the natives and add that dependable burst of color all summer long. Every time I look out the back window, they catch my eye.

Zinnias can be started easily from seed. Buy a pack of seeds, or better yet, ask a gardener friend for some seeds from their plants toward the end of summer and you are set for the next growing season. In March I start some seeds in my indoor aerogarden (I highly recommend this wonderful indoor starter) but in early May you can also just spread them in the garden. I do both! You can never have too many……….

From afar you can’t help but notice them, but get real close and you find a party going on in the center. It looks to me like streamers, confetti, horns. Zinnias are not shy.

Yes, they provide much delight to us humans, but that is almost a side benefit. The insect world loves them! Bees, butterflies, grasshoppers….. I seem them all stop to visit the zinnias. Zinnia is also a favorite for hummingbirds. And who doesn’t want hummingbirds in their garden?

They come in so many shapes and colors. If pink doesn’t do it for you, grow the orange or red. Old fashioned frilly ones, more sparse modern shapes, dwarf size and ones that grow and branch up to five feet tall. They also love to be cut and put in vases in your home, bringing summer indoors. They have great staying power and cutting them to the next stem encourages even more flowers.

Where to plant them? They are sun lovers! The more the better, however they will also agree to bloom in partial sun. Shade or wet spots, however, are not their friend.

Now that I think about it, I am beginning to be known as the zinnia lady in our town. Each year I grow zinnias in the community garden along with many other flowers and herbs, but it is the zinnias that are the star of the show. ‘Saw your zinnias today!’ I often hear.

As summer winds down and each bloom drops its petals leaving the seed pods which begin to dry, cut them off and keep them in a dry spot inside. In spring you can start the process all over again.  The perfect circle. Thank you zinnia!

Grateful for flowers,
SARAH

.....fairy tale

Yogis,
This time of year it’s hard not to feel like you have woken up in a fairy tale. The peak of summer with its lush canopy of green, full heavy bushes and brilliant displays of color as the zinnias, phlox and black eyed susans hit their stride. Bird song fills the still air while the consistent background hum of the insects sets the vibration for the day. Can you feel them? A feast for the senses.

Its impossible to spend time outside and not be amazed by something.

Take this past Tuesday. It had rained overnight and as Phoebe and I head out to run we find something in the middle of the street. Closer inspection reveals the lump to be a frog out enjoying the morning moisture. ‘Well good morning!’ as we greet him and head on our way.  A moment later a dark outline appears, with eyes glowing from a nearby streetlight. I recognize the telltale shape with pointy ears just as Phoebe gets a whiff. Mr Fox sits in the street waiting for us to get close before scooting into the nearest yard. He watches us pass.

The afternoon brings a deer family napping at the edge of my woods. I step out onto the deck and the male bluebird flies up to greet me. ‘I haven’t seen you in a while! Welcome back!’ I head out to put meal worms in the feeder. Three morning doves, two cardinals and a titmouse swoop in to join the excitement. ‘She’s coming!’ I hear them exclaim.

‘I haven’t seen many butterflies this year’ I think, and on queue a yellow swallowtail floats in to land on a vivid fuchsia zinnia, as if posing. A small snake slithers by. Rose mallow spreads herself open and invites me in.

As I check on the cucumbers (almost ready) I can’t help popping cherry tomatoes in my mouth from the fruit laden plant and plucking leaves of arugula straight from the ground. Yum! My leg brushes the rosemary, and her heady scent releases. Aaaahhhhh……  The freshness of the mint in my lemon water cools my soul on this steamy day.

A hummingbird hovers.

Fresh sliced watermelon, corn on the cob, sliced peaches in my yogurt, ice cream cones……. You would think I had died and gone to heaven. Wait. Perhaps this is heaven.

Some believe that if we put our head down, be good and make it through this life we will be rewarded with something spectacular. I can’t help but believe that we are already being given the extraordinary right here…..right now. This gift.

You won’t find me waiting. I intend to dive headfirst into this glorious messy rollercoaster of a fairy tale I am living. I can see and feel the divine mystery here in every single part of it.

 And then there are dragonflies……
SARAH

....stormy weather

Yogis,
About ten days before a vacation I start checking the weather forecast. Knowing full well it will change a few times over the next week, I want to at least get a sense of the general trend in temperatures and moisture. As we get close to departure, I am always happy to see a row of bright sun icons on the days ahead, yet if we spent a week in the Outer Banks of NC without at least one good storm, I would feel gipped.

This past week we had three.

Here is what typically happens. All 60 of us will be enjoying the day on the beach. Full camp set up with umbrellas, beach bags, coolers, chairs and bocci games in progress. Someone will notice the sky beginning to darken behind the dune but since we can’t really see what’s coming we continue on. Eventually the breeze picks up and a thick black cloud crests the dune and we have about eight minutes to take everything down and make a run for it.

A line forms at the base of the single set of about thirty steep steps that take you up and over the dunes. Everyone loaded like pack mules while the first drops begin to fall. A race against time as we finally reach the house, dropping the beach equipment and running in.

I’m not sure if it’s the combination of the high heat and humidity, the lack of tall trees, the ocean on one side with the sound on the other or all of the above, but the storms are fierce.

Because the sky is unobstructed, the views are amazing. Both the front and back edges of the storm are visible with tremendous cloud formations in multiple layers. The skies open up to sheets of rain which immediately create pools on the street. Then the wind arrives with all her might. You can feel the whole house sway. Heavy wood deck furniture which I certainly can’t lift, she has no problem moving about.

Next is the lightning and thunder. Vivid streaks of lightning light the sky as they draw zigzags from clouds to ocean. Flashes in the sky coming from every direction. Cracks of thunder which make you leap even when you know they are coming. Or those long deep rumblings that I feel in my belly. I remember being told when I was young that was God bowling.

Bring it on! I love it all! Mother Nature reminding us who is really in control lest we begin to take ourselves too seriously.

We watch the show from the screen porch or even from the hot tub tucked between two decks. And where storms at home are quick, there they linger. Appearing to be coming to a close, only to shoot an unexpected lightning bolt your way. My heart pounds.

When the calm arrives and the skies finally begin to clear, colors spill in to fill the gaps between the clouds. It takes my breath away. How can there be so much beauty?

Still wet and sandy from the day at the beach, it’s finally time to take a shower,
SARAH

.....beach personalities

Yogis,
Do you think places in nature have personalities? An energy that is all their own? I spend time on many different beaches and notice that each one is unique. Even two sitting right next to each other have different vibrations. Different sounds, smells, and ways of being.

I was in Cape May NJ last weekend for a couple of days and got to know a bit about her personality.

For the past 38 years I have been going to Stone Harbor which is only two beaches north of Cape May. As a veteran I know the rules, the culture and where to get a good pizza. In Cape May, I was a newbie.

First, the architecture is completely different. Old Victorians in a rainbow of pastels and jewel tones, each with exquisite lattice work, line the streets near downtown. Grand hotels from bygone years smelling of old wood take you back in time. Hydrangeas in full bloom circle the homes while stately trees create a canopy on the side streets. But the differences go deeper than how it looks.

The house we stayed in, like almost all the homes there, had a spacious wood front porch with sturdy green and white awnings which reached beyond the railings, creating an inviting private space to pass some time. I couldn’t wait for coffee time on the porch after my run and for cocktails after dinner out there watching the world go by…….which goes by mostly on bikes.

Everyone rents a bike! When a cousin would ride by, they would check to see if anyone was on the porch, and if so, park the bike and come up for a chat. A few minutes leads to an hour. The kids join in. Another chair is pulled up. A fresh bottle of wine. I am reminded of why people had front porches. They create connections….. causing people to pause. In today’s world, social life has moved to the back deck. Also nice, but no one is going to happen by.

Back to the bikes! They are the preferred mode of transportation. At home I don’t really ride a bike. I am nervous with the traffic. But my love for biking as a child was rekindled. Cool air on my face and hair blown back by the wind. The side streets almost car-less so we were free to weave and make wide turns. Riding back late at night under the stars I almost got the nerve to let go of the handlebars. Maybe next time.

Even the seagulls have their own way of being. In Stone Harbor we train our children from a young age on seagull etiquette. Nothing is to be opened and eaten until you are safely seated under the beach umbrella. No umbrella? A big beach towel over the head will suffice. But Cape May seagulls do not view the umbrella as an obstacle and think nothing of flying under to snatch that piece of left-over pizza from your hand.

Your paid beach tag pinned to your shorts each time you walk onto the beach entrance. Sounds of bicycle bells in the evening air. Horse drawn carriages passing by, adorned with flowers and ribbons, reminiscent of Cinderella. Old swing style cds playing on the stereo in the house as we prepare dinner.

I was introduced to Cape May and I like her style. What is your beach town's personality?

Off now to visit another old friend…..the outer banks,
SARAH

....a day in the life

Yogis,
Much of my experience in summer is done through my feet!

During vacation I watched the fascination that my six month old grandson had with his feet. One of life’s early rites of passage. As soon as he lies down for a changing, the feet fly toward the ceiling, the hands grab hold, and into the mouth they go. Chewing and slobber ensue. A sensory delight. Our feet are one of the first body parts we become aware of and they then take us on every step of this magical journey of life.

Summer is the time to set them free! Have you been outside with bare feet yet this summer? Have you given them new experiences? Our feet tell us much about the world around us. I’ve been noticing a day in the life of my feet.

In the mornings after my shower, I don’t put on shoes. As I move through my morning routine they feel the cool smoothness of the wood floors and softness of the area rugs. They notice if something is sticky. Or wet. At times when I walk through the foyer I feel sand and an image appears of Phoebe romping at the river’s edge. Out comes the dust broom or mop.

My feet head outside, loving to walk through the morning dew on the grass. No matter how hot or heavy the air is, my feet are cool as a cucumber. The clover tickles my toes. Walking in grass quickly brings back memories of summer childhoods. Soft. Lush.

Next on the agenda is a stroll through the vegetable garden for some weeding and harvesting. My feet land on the bare earth which seems so dense compared to the grass. Solid. Grounding. Home.

I walk the flagstone path of my wheel which runs north to south and notice how completely different it feels from the mulch path that leads from east to west. I stand on one of the rocks that create the outline of the garden so I can reach in to cut a flower. Noticing how my toes leap into action to keep me steady.

To get back to the downstairs door I walk across the gravel driveway. At the beginning of the summer I do a considerable amount of ‘ooh-ah- ing’ as I walk gingerly on my pale winter softened feet. But by July they are tan and tough and I am walking the entire length of the driveway. I know it sounds silly but there is something about being able to do that which makes me feel powerful!

Mud, puddles, hot sidewalk, the sand, my yoga mat……..my feet tell me exactly where I am. And when dirt gets stuck between my toes, I head for the hose for an exhilarating foot shower.

Finally, as the sun is setting on Phoebe’s last walk of the day, the still warmed blacktop of the street feels heavenly.

Happy feet,
SARAH