First. Rejoice with me. My poem for the newsletter of the Denver Gem and Mineral Guild (Tips and Chips), “Dog Days of Summer 2024,” was selected to be included in the Rocky Mountain Federation newsletter. It’s a rock club thing.
My BLOG has been out of commission for more than a week. So, today, now that it is up and running, again, I decided to send the BLOG that you would have received last week, Wednesday, September 4. As you will be able to tell, I’ve been on the West Coast for a short while. But, as Daughter #1 was driving us back from our trip to Seattle and Portland, I thought about these things. So, here goes …
Daughter #3 shared this story with me about her recent trip to Seattle for a mother/daughter trip. I thought you might enjoy the journey.
Years ago and for about twenty years, I was privileged to be a volunteer at Ghost Ranch in Northern New Mexico. You may remember, from earlier articles, that I worked with Pomona Hallenbeck, the watercolorist-in-residence. I went there so often taking her class that I became her “gopher.”
This week’s article will be very short. The past weekend, my path was to be in our local hospital. Apparently, nothing very serious, but I spent from Saturday at 4 am to Sunday noon with the health care specialists trying to figure out what was going on.
I have always loved autumn better than summer. If I put together a “hate” list, summer would probably be at the top. Winter is my favorite. But, autumn is usually very nice. We get the color. We get cooler weather. And, sometimes, it even snows. Make no mistake; Autumn is on its way.
I can remember a few heavy snows close to Labor Day. “Tree trimmers,” they were. The autumn change hadn’t had time to do its work. Leaves were still gracing the trees. Some late summer flowers were still blooming. So, the natural thing to happen when an early snow comes is that trees get trimmer and flowers die. This week, I’m giving you a poem written some time ago. And, not only does it encourage the autumn, it also talks about one of my favorite collections.
Rocks. I’ve loved rocks since I was a kid. My house is filled with rocks – well, not as many as there used to be – I’ve given some away. And, some (like the huge piece of amazonite that I had) have simply disappeared. It seems to have gone into Never-Never-Land.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Autumn Color
They come on quietly.
The colors.
Sometimes, the snow
brings them. Red. Yellow.
Orange. Purple.
Where green held
Forth in the summer.
Rock collectors don’t
Need to wait for fall
To see the many colors
Of Autumn. They can
Just take a look at their
Collections.
Amethyst
Fluorite
Rhodochrosite
Gold
Barite
Topaz
Wulfenite
Elbaite
Beryl
Copper
Dark, dark
Smoky quartz.
Green. Yellow.
Red. Orange.
Pick a color.
Any fall color.
It’s probably right
There in your
Collection.
““““““““““““““““““““““““`
A very good friend has just had very serious surgery. She lives in Nebraska. And, the wind blows and blows in Nebraska. When she decided to leave her position at Ghost Ranch in New Mexico, Larry was kind enough to help me move some of her possessions to our storage unit. Later, I was able to take them to Nebraska when she settled into her new home in Nebraska.
Ogallala, Nebraska, is home to a most enjoyable “rock” museum. The Petrified Wood and Art Gallery houses a terrific collection of petrified wood, as well as works of art.
The wind blows in Nebraska. It blows and blows and blows. Here is one of my older poems about wind and my love of rocks.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++
Wind and Rocks
Does the wind always
Blow in Nebraska?
Thursday – the wind blew.
Friday – the wind blew.
Saturday – the wind
Almost blew me
Off of the road!
Colorado’s Sand Dunes
Are sculpted by the wind
Against the mountains.
Nothing can stop the wind.
No mountains to slow it down.
No tall buildings
To change its direction.
No such obstacle
In Nebraska.
The wind just keeps
Blowing sand across
The prairie floor.
Blue agate
Nebraska’s State mineral
Can be found in Northwest
Nebraska.
But, not along
The Platte River.
The Platte
At Ogallala
Gives up
Petrified wood.
Did it wash down
From Colorado?
Twin brothers
The Kenfields
Donated their year’s old
Collection of petrified wood
To the town
“It must stay in Ogallala,”
they said.
Friends of the collection
Found a building
To keep the collection safe.
Petrified Wood & Art Gallery
Inside, not just cross sections
Of petrified tree trunks
In the collection;
Or chunks of petrified woods,
But 3-D structures.
Houses
Churches
Windmills
Wagons
All made from
Slender slabs of
Petrified woods.
Cut with their diamond saw
And fashioned piece by piece
Into the buildings and wagons.
I fell in love
With this tiny collection.
If I lived in Ogallala,
I’d become a docent
For the collection.
But, I can’t live in Ogallala.
The wind blows in Ogallala.
I don’t like wind!
+++++++++++++++++++++++++
Be Safe and Be Well
The Cranky Crone
Thoughtful comments are appreciated.
**Anyone interested in visiting the exceptionally wonderful museum in Ogallala, Nebraska, can see it there. It’s worth going.
My favorite poetry to write is haibun. As a reminder, it is prose followed by haiku followed by prose followed by haiku, etc. My haibun is always three prose sections and three haiku. This poem was written for the Tips and Chips, the Denver Gem and Mineral Guild newsletter. I hope you enjoy reading about the “Dog Days of Summer 2024.”
Let me warn you, this is a rant! This is one of my most favorite “pet peeves.” So, if you are not ready for a rant, today – just stop reading. You may have heard some of this before; but, I ask your indulgence – please bear with me.
There are certain things that bother me. Yes, believe it or not, there are things that BOTHER ME!
I had another BLOG prepared for this week when I had a dream. Last night, I dreamt of my daughters’ dad – the love of my life. How many off us remember the very first time and place when and where we met that love? Thanks to Daughter #1, I have a photograph of the place where I met him.
Eighty-six years ago on July 2, I was born to my mother Hazel and father Chester. Eighty-six years! Since my eightieth birthday, I’ve had a birthday bash at my favorite, local Mexican food restaurant. Except for the COVID year, that is.
This year’s party was another exceptionally fun party for me. I love watching as many as thirty of my friends and neighbors get together for this party. People who see each other once each year at this event.