Posts Tagged ‘Perceptions’
Decidedly Different
From balmy Sunday to blustery Monday we experienced an almost 40° (F) temperature swing, factoring in the “windchill” reading that resulted from the strong northwest gusting wind. Nothing says October like a cold, cloudy, windy day.
I took Delilah out for a short trek around the property when I got home from work, during which we fed the horses and then wandered a few trails in the woods to check for downed branches.
At one point, even though I didn’t feel as though I was seeing anything, I sensed there was motion occurring through the trees, and I kept my eyes glued in that direction in hopes of picking up some confirmation.
Was it a bird? Likely possibilities included grouse, pheasant, or even wild turkey. Something led me to believe it was big. Something else gave me the impression it was right in front of my eyes, but I was not seeing it. Honestly, what came to mind was the movie effect of “Predator” in camouflage mode.
All these mental gymnastics happened in a fraction of a second. Putting it all together, I discerned the white I thought I had seen was, in fact, the tail of a deer.
We had just come down that hill a short time before, and ended up circling back on our path in a way that may have surprised the keen senses of the shy animal. I was energized to find it had stopped its movement at a place that gave me a clear view of the head and face, as the deer looked directly back at me from an incredibly short distance away.
It was probably the closest I have been to a live, wild deer in years. I glanced down at Delilah, who was nose-to-the-ground busy, following the myriad smells that surely exist on our well-used trails, but she showed no evidence of detecting how close we were to something that would no-doubt thrill her to the extreme to pursue.
When I looked back for the deer, I realized how difficult it was to detect it through the trees while it stood motionless. I started to walk again, coming around the corner to climb the hill where Cyndie and I had just been working on the fence, hoping to get a better perspective on where the deer was standing. I was also scanning in hopes of finding others, under the assumption deer are usually in a herd.
What I discovered was that my movement was enough to drive the deer off and I had been unable to detect its departure. Delilah didn’t show any sign of sensing the scent of immediately fresh traffic across our trail. I wondered if the deer had been surprised by the recent appearance of the fence we just put up over the weekend.
There were no other deer in sight as we climbed the hill toward the house, and toward the respite from the wind it would provide. Had I not picked up the fleeting images of that whiteness and the almost imperceptible motion of the body through the trees, I would have missed it altogether.
Allows me to imagine how often I have probably done just that on these trails in the last few years, and been within similarly close proximity to wildlife, while being entirely unaware.
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See Ya
We’ll see ya later, September. It was nice knowin’ ya! Somehow, when I blinked, the whole month of September slipped past me. How can it be the last day of September already? I must be having fun, because time sure is flying.
I definitely had fun last night. Since I didn’t drive all the way home after working extra long at the day-job, I had the opportunity to take in a movie on the big screen before heading to Cyndie’s parents’ house to sleep. It’s been a long time since I was in a movie theater, and this one had been recently renovated, making the experience something special.
When I asked to purchase a ticket, the gentleman asked me what seat I wanted. He had a map of available seats on a monitor, from which I was to make my selection. I’ve never had to do that before. It was kind of strange. It was like picking a seat on a plane when purchasing a ticket to fly, which is becoming standard practice, but for some reason the standard didn’t translate in my head when it comes to movie theaters.
They boasted that one of the obvious advantages was the ability to buy your ticket in advance and show up right at the time of the movie. Your preferred seat would be open and waiting for you.
The reserved seat was just the beginning of the fun. The real wow-factor was when I stepped into the theater and discovered the seats were like giant leather Lazy-Boy recliners, with built-in cup holders.
The only things missing were a little lap blanket and maybe a dog or cat to snuggle with during the feature presentation.
With the month of October perched to begin tomorrow, that lap blanket idea has some merit, if you ask me.
For the record, I saw the latest Mission Impossible movie, which I found perfectly entertaining, but little more than that. Rather typical fare, which is not a knock against it. I didn’t actually expect it to be something beyond what fans of the Mission Impossible series want.
Probably the best part for me was being introduced to the beautiful face of Swedish actress Rebecca Ferguson. That definitely added to the fun quotient.
Hopefully, her movie acting career will hang around a lot longer than the months of the year seem to. Seriously, September is closing out today. The best month of the year, gone, just like that. What a shame it has to end.
See ya later, September.
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Random Miscellany
My writing may not seem very well thought-out plenty of times, but composing a post with some manner of a theme or point does involve a fair amount of mental exercise for me on a regular basis. Let’s see if there is any difference in the result if I purposefully neglect any planning whatsoever for today’s post, and allow myself freedom to spout off on whatever comes to mind.
Trust me, there is a part of me that genuinely fears the possibility there will be no noticeable difference.
It is normal for me to oscillate between doubting everything we have decided to do here since our move from the suburbs, and feeling like the last 3 years are a destiny that we couldn’t have avoided if we tried. That’s probably not an uncommon thought process for a person to experience. It does tend to make me feel a bit schizophrenic on occasion.
For me, it is easiest to just continue to plod along in the general forward direction during the periods of doubt and confusion, so there isn’t much worry that I will panic and bail out all of a sudden.
Sometimes it helps to have Cyndie support my decision, or encourage me when I hesitate to come to the conclusion myself, to give in and call a professional on tasks that frustrate me. I am relieved we have elected to seek out a plumber to look at a leaky frost-free hydrant on the house. It enables me to have our whole-house filter installation verified, because it appears to be in backwards to me and has always bothered my sensibilities.
Another task that is frustrating me is getting our hay-field cut and baled. We have been relying on the generosity of our neighbor, George, for the most part in the past, but that’s not reliable because his availability is limited. It stresses me to not have control over the harvesting of our field, but I haven’t reached a point of finding a solution, so I plod along with that on-going stress simmering in the back of my mind.
Once again, Cyndie comes to the rescue with a wonderful gesture(s) of supporting my interest in being mindful of eating a healthy recommended amount of sugar in my daily calories. Last night she baked a banana bread after researching recipes that had low glycemic index numbers. It tasted great to me.
Too bad I won’t get any of it tonight, because the day-job is so busy I will work late today and spend the night in town at her parent’s house, instead of driving the long commute home.
I noticed Cyndie checking out a mail-order catalog last night, and it struck me how much life has changed for us lately. Now she stays home to manage the ranch and scans the FarmTek “wishbook” that arrives in our mailbox, and I spend too many hours distracted with demands of the day-job.
It is lucky that I paused my drive up the driveway yesterday afternoon, to drop off a few supplies I picked up on my way home. Opened the door to the shop and was met with the distinct odor of dead rodent. There was a drowned chipmunk in the water trap that would have been extremely unpleasant by the time I get back home on Wednesday.
It definitely feels like I’m not in Kansas (*Eden Prairie*) anymore.
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Adrift
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it’s like a scene from a movie
happening in real time
sublimely
inside my tattered mind
and I can’t find the stairs
even though I look
there is nothing there
but a gap that exists, instead
in the space held by images
and I look away
somewhat desperate now
over a passing thought
of a memory gone
from that time and a place
disjoining my now
leaving it adrift
untethered from a reference
of familiarity
floating solely on an energy
that plays on a look
and lasts for mere seconds
an emotional burst
of unspoken words
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Double Double
I am doing double, double-duty this week: at home, I am covering for Cyndie while she is visiting the west coast with friends, and at the day-job, I am filling in for a vacationing employee. What an unfortunate coincidental timing for these two situations to occur.
I am taxed with not being able to leave home before rush-hour traffic builds, because I need to tend to our daily morning animal-care routine first, while at the same time, I have twice the work facing me at the day-job, which realistically requires I spend extra time there. Not gonna happen. I need to get home early to rescue Delilah from the confines of her outdoor kennel and then feed the horses their afternoon nutrition.
Somethings gotta give, and I’m afraid it’s going to be service to our customers for a few days. Maybe they won’t notice.
At home, I fear the never-ending grass growth is likely to be my ongoing nemesis. It needs mowing again already! I didn’t have time yesterday after work. Between needing to give Delilah a healthy amount of attention and cleaning up a day’s worth of manure, the ever-shorter evening daylight hours were easily consumed.
Now that I am checking the temperature of the composting manure pile every day, I am finding that I need to turn it over with the pitch fork much more often that I had been doing.
I took a picture of the thermometer displaying that it was over 160° (F) again, after I had just mixed it around on Sunday. What a fascinating phenomenon that heat generation is.
Speaking of heat, we are enjoying a spectacular rendition of warm September days this week. Yesterday felt like warmth of a summer day, but there is no mistaking the subtle clues that frame it as autumnal.
I expect that the changing angle of the sun contributes greatly, but the actuality of that is not entirely obvious. Around our place, we’ve already got enough crunchy leaves over our trails that they are contributing a distinct fall-like aroma to go along with the auditory serenade that happens beneath footsteps.
We are in a period of high winds, as well, and something about the way the rushing warm air felt on my skin last night gave me a feeling that this is something special to be appreciated. It was hot, without being hot. Seriously. That may not make sense to you, but it explains the impression that warm September air can produce.
I am challenged with needing to luxuriate in this brilliantly spectacular weather for more than just myself, but for Cyndie, too, since I’m absorbing her share of bliss while she’s gone. It’s the least I could do.
It wouldn’t make much sense to only take on the burdens her absence presents, would it?
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Embracing Impermanence
I have been encountering a recurring theme of late that is causing me to ponder my desire for order in my daily routines. Also, for constancy in the products for which I grow fond. Most times, I don’t want ‘new and improved.’ I just want more of what I had the first time.
There is a measuring cup in the kitchen that I have started to use every day, now that I am measuring portions of many foods, especially the all-too-sweet cereals I passionately love. I open the middle drawer, and there it is —most of the time.
If Cyndie has been baking, it could require a search.
I tend to experience greater pleasure when my developed methods glide seamlessly along like a well-conducted orchestral piece. If it runs into turbulence, I might alter my tactics to improve the flow. Basically, I look to simplify effort, probably toward something that would align closely to a style that could justifiably be viewed as lazy.
This probably explains why I am not big on the tasks involved with meal preparation.
It is occurring to me that I will probably be better served to work on honing my skills of adaptation to the constant variations that are a reality of life, instead of always pining to have things be where I expect to find them, clean and in good working order.
Sometimes, you discover that the tire is flat. People call in sick for their shift at work. It rains when it was forecast to be sunny. The manufacturer has discontinued a favorite tool/appliance/car/shoe/food/article of clothing.
The climate is proving to be in much greater flux than most people wanted to believe. Plants and animals go extinct. Millions of people get forced to flee their homeland, becoming a sea of immigrants.
Seriously, when wasn’t change a constant, despite what our minds have a tendency to perceive?
Maybe I can find a way to nurture that feeling of pleasure I usually get from orderly routines, to also manifest in the face of unanticipated complications. They are vivid examples the universe is alive and breathing, and I still am, too. It’s a reality that I am coming to believe is not worth fighting against. Conversely, I think learning to celebrate the aberrations should offer nothing but greater peace of mind.
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Autumn Hint
I could have comfortably worn a long sleeve shirt yesterday, but I chose to stay with a more summer-like exposed arms ensemble in denial of the possibility summer might be coming to an end soon. With our dew point temperature down in the ever-so comfortable sub-50° range with an October-like sky, it felt like the kind of day we should have a fire in the fireplace.
Two weeks ago we were celebrating summer with our gala bash of picnic food and live music on the deck. What a difference between then and now.
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The horses seem to appreciate the fact that a breezy and cool cloudy day helps minimize the relentless harassment from flies. Cyndie caught Legacy and Cayenne in a brief nuzzle, probably because the flies weren’t covering their faces, while Dezirea stares the camera down as if disapproving of the violation of her friends’ privacy.
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Re-framing Hunter
Before our horses arrived here, we received a description of them that included details about Hunter having been kicked in the head after he was born. We were told that it had caused him to be a little slow to learn and that he tended to get picked on by other horses in their herd.
It is my intention that this will be the last time I ever make mention of this.
After our 4 arrived here, we sensed that Hunter had his own way of doing things, but it didn’t come across as him being slow to learn. Still, every time we noticed him askew of the other horses, we imagined the story we had been told, and assumed that it was a likely justification for his unique behavior.
Every time I introduced our horses, or talked about them when away, I found myself repeating that story we had been told. It was who Hunter was to me.
Not anymore.
Hopefully, never again. We are going to tell a new story of Hunter. For me, the first incident that spawned this change happened the last time George was trimming the horses. He had one of Hunter’s front legs up in the air and Hunter seemed to have a problem with a fly or something. Hunter picked up his other front leg and reached up over George’s back with a scratching motion.
The image of a horse rearing up on its hind legs is a normal thing to picture, but Hunter wasn’t “rearing up.” Picture a horse standing horizontal and lifting both front legs.
George said, “Don’t let this horse ever make you think he can’t do something. That took a lot of athletic ability. Most horses would fall over if they tried that.”
While Dunia has been here these last two weeks, and when Rachael spent a day with them working the horses, Hunter has proven to be a very capable student and has responded well to their direction. He has needed some extra attention, because of his usual pattern of avoidance to being haltered, but that behavior is one to which Dunia has been training.
We tended to accept his avoidance behavior as understandable, given “the story.”
When I think back to the memorable interactions I’ve had with Hunter, of which there are plenty, not one of them ever seemed like he was reacting to any sort of disability.
This week, Cyndie and I had an epiphany about our perception of Hunter. There is no reason we need to perceive him through the filter of that story we were told. We are going to re-frame Hunter to the horse we have direct experience witnessing. He will now receive a new vision of himself from us.
Hunter is an athletic, intelligent, beautiful, awesome, and truly capable horse.
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What For
I don’t always know the reason something catches my eye for a photo, but similar to the way I assemble words in a poem just because they come to me, whether I understand or not, I tend to take pictures on a whim. I have no idea whether the resulting image will appeal or mean anything to others, I just do it because a scene catches my attention.
Here is one that I took while at George and Rachael’s on Tuesday. Does it trigger anything for you?
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