Gratitude is Happiness Doubled by Wonder

  I've always been intrigued by this variety of plant, because of the unusual behavior it demonstrates. Generally we expect plants to be very slow-growing, and not to exhibit any spontaneous motion. We know some sunflowers can turn their "faces" towards the sun. Some blooms (e.g. poppies, water lillies) are open during the day but close at night. Some are the other way around, blooming at night and closing during the day (datura or moonflower, evening primrose). But the motion associated with these activities is very slow and gradual (a time-lapse video can be astonishing!). The fastest-growing plant, a variety of bamboo, can grow vertically as much as 35" per day - about 1/4" every 10 minutes, almost fast enough to be visible to the naked eye! But this plant, the Mimosa pudica or "sensitive plant," will rapidly fold its compound, fern-like leaves inward and droop when touched or disturbed. The "purpose" is presumably to protect from harm - ...

  There's a principle of persistence that applies to climbing mountains, but also to many other aspects of life. We all get tired, we "run out of gas," we get frustrated with delays, we despair of reaching our goal, we think the job will never end, we keep waiting for the weather to improve, we become frustrated with "enduring." We give up, and we probably never know if we stopped just short of the point of significant achievement. The most growth often comes at, and after, that point of fatigue. I really appreciate the quote from Ralph Waldo Emerson. It was a favorite of Heber J. Grant and is often attributed to him, but he was quoting Emerson when he spoke it. It makes sense that we get more comfortable and competent at anything we persist in doing. Hard things become easier as we become practiced and proficient. On the other hand, there is sometimes wisdom in not "running faster than we are able." Or running longer than we are able! There comes a po...

A few years ago when I was climbing Mt. Rainier in Washington, during our first-day backpack into base camp, I took this photo. The tiny dots on the slope in the distance are other hikers, heading up the hill that we will need to climb on our trek to the camp. We had already climbed up the mountainside several miles at this point with our packs including tents, food, and heavy mountaineering equipment. So we were tired, but clearly there was a lot of work yet to be done. Those other hikers looked SO far away! Seeing hikers who are that distant when you're on a hike, knowing how much work you still have to do, can be discouraging. But it doesn't HAVE to be discouraging. I always try to think instead: if they can do it, so can I! They just started earlier, but the amount of work for each of us is just the same. I'll get there! "Life" can give us similar glimpses of people who seem to be further along than we are. Those comparisons can be in financial comfort, profes...

One of the most inspiring things we can do is study the lives of women and men who have dealt with and overcome challenges in their lives, showing true nobility and greatness of soul. One of those whom I appreciate is Helen Keller, born in Alabama on June 27, 1880 - 141 years ago today. An illness at 19 months, probably scarlet fever or meningitis, left Helen blind and deaf. I can't imagine living my entire life in darkness and silence, with only the faintest childhood memories of sight and sound. The story of how Helen learned to communicate through the efforts of Anne Sullivan, starting at age 7, is well known. Keller went on to become the first blind and deaf person to earn a bachelor of arts degree (cum laude) from Radcliffe College, the female counterpart of the then all-male Harvard University. She later traveled widely and become a prolific author and speaker, and an advocate for the handicapped. She died in 1968, age 87 years. The attached complitation of some of her insigh...

  Bonnie and I were privileged to spend extra time this past week with our grandchildren (four of them shown in the photo, climbing the amazing Sequoia in the park near our home). As I had the joy of interacting with them, the sentiment of the John Updike quote came to mind. I'm no longer earning money, so that would leave only becoming a machine for eating. That seems like it could be unhealthy if that were my only function in life! So I hope to continue the interaction with the sweet and joyful spirits of these little ones. I have to #GiveThanks every day for their influence in my life, and for the blessing of having them relatively close by.

  I'm always fascinated to read "the other side of the story" regarding historical situations - the viewpoint that is not the familiar one to me, given my land of birth, personal background, culture, etc. What was WWII like for a typical German citizen or soldier? How did the people in Viet Nam view the conflict in their country? What was it like to be Japanese in the aftermath of nuclear attacks? What were the relative viewpoints and motivations of the Confederacy vs. the Union in the US Civil War? My most recent exposure to "the other side" relates to an event that occurred 145 years ago today and tomorrow - the Battle of the Little Big Horn, June 25–26, 1876. Or, as it was known among the Lakota, the Battle of the Greasy Grass. My view of the events is coming from a book, "The Day the World Ended at Little Bighorn: A Lakota History" by Joseph M. Marshall III. It's a fascinating history of not just the battle, but the events leading up to it, and...

  Recently there was a little party at our house. Leftover helium-filled balloons have been hugging the ceiling in the basement ever since. But as balloons are wont to do, they are gradually fading in their levitation skills. It's kind of eerie when they start idly drifting around the rooms, moving extremely slowly in the air currents, just about eye-level as you are seated. Eventually they give up altogether and end up as playthings on the ground for the littluns. Seems to me like a representation of life. We start out "flying high" in our youth and go on for a considerable time. But now in middle-age, there are days when I feel more like I'm idly drifting around, just being pushed by the drafts and winds. I may feel an occasional boost and float back up - but it seems inevitable that before long I'll end up down there on the ground with the rest of the "expired" balloons. Is that true?? Nope, I don't think so. Physically perhaps - our bodies tend t...

  The salsify is one of my favorite mountain flowers. Its pretty yellow blossoms appear in the spring alongside Wasatch trails in lower elevations. The younger blossoms are actually kind of tasty to eat, if you can bear to pluck such a lovely flower and pop it in your mouth. The roots are also edible, and are said to have a taste reminiscent of oysters - hence one of the alternate names of the flower, oysterplant. But it's the mature plants I want to talk about today. They form a seed head similar to the familiar dandelion head but much larger (see photo). The scientific genus name Tragopogon means "goat beard" (hence another of the plant's nicknames) in reference to the bristly seed structure. I find this plant's mechanism of seed distribution to be beautiful, elegant, and utterly fascinating. Each individual seed is situated at the base of a tiny personal parasail. When the wind blows, the seed is detached from its stalk and carried away on the air current, as n...

  As all my friends are doubtless aware, today is "National Eclair Day." I was unable to find a fine bakery to provide me with the best of this delicacy, so I had to settle for frozen mini eclairs. Better than nothing! This is another important day for me to reminisce. My mother taught me to appreciate good desserts; I guess I can blame my "sweet tooth" on her, at least in part. When we traveled with her to Europe, we were usually more excited to see a "Konditorei" - a German pastry shop - than a gelato shop. They have amazing selections of beautiful and artistically-prepared delicacies, including sweet rolls, cakes, tarts, strudels, cookies, chocolates, and more! But chocolate eclairs in particular figured prominently in my youth. When I was allowed to pick a treat during family visits at Roe's Bakery in Payson, it was always a debate for me between the whipped-cream-filled "alligator jaws" (which sometimes won because they were larger) and ...

I am bothered that people think it's appropriate to deface signs. I noticed several instances in a recent visit to Great Basin National Park - one example is shown in the first attached photo. Apparently, someone was unhappy with the word "grotesque" and decided it needed to be scratched out. They didn't think the trees had "grotesque beauty." For someone to feel so strongly opposed to using that word that they would undertake to "censor" it, I assume they either thought the word was offensive and inappropriate for a public setting (obscene or vulgar), or else they personally and strongly disagreed with using it to describe the trees. These are definitions for that adjective from some online dictionaries: - comically or repulsively ugly or distorted. - odd or unnatural in shape, appearance, or character; fantastically ugly or absurd; bizarre. - strange and unpleasant, especially in a silly or slightly frightening way. I don’t see anything inherentl...

  I love it when the peas in my garden are ripe and ready to harvest in time for Father's Day! When I pick the pods and open them up to enjoy the tasty little delicacies, I feel a special link to my Dad. Farming was in my father's blood. He was born in Talmage, Utah where his parents were homesteading in the mostly undeveloped Uinta Basin. He grew up learning to tame the wild land and figuring out how to nurture crops to be profitable. When he reached adulthood, he moved to Salt Lake City for a short time (where he met and married my mother) to work "city jobs" for a few years, before returning to his real love when my parents purchased a farm west of Payson. I remember a year he grew peas. He loved peas, and I remember walking with him as a very young boy to inspect the crop. He showed me how to pick a ripe pod and open it to expose the peas inside. But he died when I was only 7. After we sold the farm and moved into town, my mother helped me become a fan of gardenin...

  We've been spending a lot of time at our son and daughter-in-law's new home in Lehi helping prepare it for their moving. We've noticed several times when we arrive or depart that there are almost always flocks of seagulls circling overhead. It's not far from the north end of Utah Lake and only a few blocks from the Jordan River, so maybe that has something to do with it. Recently I was watching the gulls, mostly floating lazily in big slow arcs. After a minute, I imagined I saw one tuck in his wings and go into a steep dive, then pull out at the last minute into a graceful barrel roll. It was exciting! And it was a flashback of about 48 years. In 1973 I purchased a paperback copy of "Jonathan Livingston Seagull" by Richard Bach, which at the time was a "Glorious #1 Bestseller." I was quite enamored by the story and read it several times, underlining some favorite parts. My copy is still in good condition though some of the pages have come unglued. ...

  I played Little League baseball for a year when I was young. It was not one if the best experiences of my childhood. I wasn't very good - I was kind of a "late bloomer" when it came to any athletic ability. I didn't know much about baseball - I didn't have a Dad or an older brother to teach me and practice with me, and the coach seemed more interested in helping the kids who showed some potential. So I mostly sat on the bench or was sent out in right field where few balls went. I remember being at bat and being terrified that I might be hit by a pitch - the ball was moving so fast that I knew I had no time to react (you know how hard 12-year-old pitchers can throw, right? :)). One of my proudest moments was when I actually got on base (due to a walk). I think a pop fly by the next batter ended the inning, along with my chance for the hoped-for glory of actually scoring a run. Tonight I watched my 6-year-old grandson play baseball. How different it felt from my L...

  On a hike in the woods earlier this week, Bonnie and I noticed there were logs set across the trail now and then, probably for erosion control. But on closer inspection, we started to realize there were patterns on the logs, and on even CLOSER inspection, we started to realize that the patterns looked like trail maps! Clearly, we decided, they were secret messages for the highly observant hikers indicating the locations of spectacular secret ancient treasures!! Of course, it became necessary to follow the pattern of a couple of the secret maps. After some expert and exhaustive tracking, we excitedly came to the end where the spectacular secret ancient treasure would be, and found nothing... only this (see additional photos). Oh, wait...... I #GiveThanks for spectacular secret ancient treasures and the chance to discover them by following nature's carefully encoded maps.  

The attached pictures are a few of many I took during the past day. I've been thinking about how much I #GiveThanks for nature's gift of color, and for my ability to perceive it. It's easy to be impressed by the varied colors of beautiful wildflowers - they always delight me with their vibrance and variety. There is tremendous variation in the colors of rocks and minerals, in planta and animals, and of course in glorious sunsets. Color is everywhere!! People who are colorblind typically can't see the entire color spectrum. They see muted views of some colors, and for example may have trouble distinguishing between red and green. That can be a handicap in a world where color conveys meaning; but it must also lessen the joy of appreciating what most of us enjoy. I've sometimes wondered if there are other properties in the world around us that could convey information as unique as color, that maybe we are not aware of or not capable of detecting. Fascinating to consid...

  Here's one way to make a middle-aged man feel very young again: hang around for a while with things that are way, way older! Great Basin Bristlecone Pines (Pinus longaeva) are considered the longest-living trees on earth. The trees of this genus that grow at lower elevations tend to live more normal lengths of time. But when they grow at high elevations with harsh conditions, including extremes of heat and cold and high winds, their wood grows slowly and very dense and resinous. This makes them more resistant to insects and fungi. They also have to have strong roots to obtain the water they need and resist the forces of nature that would blow them down. Even when they die, they don't decay - a trunk can remain standing for a thousand years, getting polished and eroded by nature. Scientists have dated living specimens of these trees to be between 3000 and almost 5000 years old. FIVE THOUSAND YEARS! So here I was this morning, surrounded by living organisms that have been on th...