Farewell darling village

A full week has passed and I felt like I'd never left; fun with my homies, walks in the Glen and Clifton Gorge, drumming w/the YS gals, and many home-made meals and meals out, by and with my Ohio girls.


I've been trying to post pics of the gorge today and can't seem to make them stick. If you see any it's because I was successful.


Some wildflowers lined the gorge path and spring water dripped off the million-year-old cliffs along the gorge. Below me and looking down at them as they flew to join their mates in the cool and misty morning, Canada geese looked like arrows with wide feathered tails. Cedar limbs of lace shifted from green-blue to yellow from the sun's rays. My dog and I were the only ones on the trails and after the steep climb back up the steps from the South Rim, we sat on a bench next to a sagittal cut of an ancient White Oak the park had erected to show what was going on in the world during the time of its birth. I thought about the harsh, harsh winter we had endured this year and welcomed the rites of Spring in the Springs.


Tomorrow I'll walk these forests again with my friend, Tishia, whom I taught to hug the Glen Helen trees when she was a toddler. We will hug them again, Her Fran and My Tishia and give thanks for our lives that crossed, then separated, and met again.

Spring in Yellow Springs

My friend, Pam's, sump pump buzzes like mine does back home in Maine. Many downpours yesterday to the extend that her backyard looks like a pond. Tucker had to wear his raincoat, as did I, on our walks. This morning, though, shows sunshine lighting up Pam's Hemlock that that buffer her home from the road and protect my ears from loud mufflers on the cars that zip by on Dayton-Yellow Springs road. In late day, Tuck and I walked the bike path that runs from Ellis Pond, across Polecat Road and beside a farm field, over a brook. The brook was full and freely flowing. I could smell the earthworms, those that survived the flooding rains. Across the farmland stand families of trees the color of Paine's Grey on my art palette and accented by light sienna formed by budding trees. This Ohio landscape has the appearance of Asian art, the colors muted and delicate.


It's a good day for a walk along the top rim of Glen Helen, which sits above the gorge. I hear the Dutchman's Britches are blooming. I may be too early for Trillium.


I have a wonderful and giant photograph of a buck Whitetail Deer bathing in the rushing waters of the Gorge. The photographer happened upon him in the early morning; a gift from nature.


Ancient fossils of fern and shells can be found in stones that lie along the brooks that flow through Glen Helen. Vibrant Cardinal, red birds, send their sentimental tones through the woods. It is a magical place that draws folks to it in hopes of reconnecting to their biological roots, out of the prehistoric goo. Over 100 years ago there was a health spa where people could go to soak in the minerals of the Yellow Springs; iron most likely.


So, I'm off to the Glen, a place I've walked many times to soothe my soul during rough times and also to share sensual lunches with my love of the times. I'll think of the latter while I'm there and give thanks for my Ohio gals and the forces that joined them to me two decades ago.


Tonight I will drum with the drumming circle I helped start nearly 20 years ago, beating the sound of many heartbeats.


When I'm here, I wonder why I left 14 years ago. I've not encountered any other village in this nation that is as bucolic as Yellow Springs.

Oh Ohio.

Great to be in the company of my Ohio friends once again:
To breakfast with Carol, then number tiles (don't know the real name of the game) with her 90-some year-old mother Ruth; not I'm addicted to the nameless game. The grand-daughter of Carol and Jan, Rachel Claire, helped me beat the britches off Ruth. That child's mind is faster than the internet.


There's a small community park near my friends' homes and Tuck and I have walked it several times; in-between me eating Skyline Chilli and UDF (United Dairy Farmer) Cherry Cordial ice cream (oy vey!). Yesterday we had the park to ourselves except for one woman. On her second turn around the track I asked her how many miles she walks. "Oh, sometimes I just have to get away and I come here and pray, enjoy the sun and the air." We shared some of our own joys then I said goodbye with "Peace to you Sister." "The same to you, my Sister," she replied. This lovely interaction was brighter than the sunny day for me.


I have always found the people of Ohio to be friendly and open; giving direct eye-contact on the street, in stores; accompanied with a smile and hello. Ohio remains a home to me.


Tuck and I also spent some time at one of my favorite places this week, Miami Whitewater Park. We walked the paths and watched a father pick a turtle out of the river and take pictures of it for his children. I was afraid he might try to keep it, so I hung around and requested he put it back in the river while I was there. I think he really didn't want to but I wasn't going to leave until he returned that beautiful turtle to its home.


Thunder storms rolled in two days ago. This morning I had to dodge lightening and downpours to take the dog out. Don't you know he refused to do his duty on such a day, so I was soaked through my raincoat.


I haven't taken pictures of the area because there are some earlier on my BlogSpot from a previous year and the trees are not yet budding.


I'm also sucking up the cable TV programs on these rainy days.