Micro desert life...

And God said, Let the earth bring forth grass, the herb yielding seed,

and the fruit tree yielding fruit after his kind, whose seed is in itself,

upon the earth: and it was so.

And the earth brought forth grass, and herb yielding seed after its

kind, and the tree yielding fruit, whose see was in itself, after his

kind: and God saw that it was good.

­– Genesis 1:11,12 - Bible (KJV)

Greg and Eli both said if we built the thing – or redesigned it, they would come.

We recently re-landscaped our little desert backyard. Before the work, we had a few large Barrel Cacti, three Desert Spoons, a few Golden Barrels, a Texas Ranger, Miniature Grapefruit tree and a Mexican Bird of Paradise.

I feel almost obligated to also say, “…and a partridge in a pear tree…” however inappropriate!

We have three broadly defined seasons here in the Sonoran Desert. There is the fall, winter, and spring comprising one of them when the weather is to die for. The days are mild (infrequently chilly) and the nights very cool.

The summers are a different story. When the oven goes on here, it stays for a few months and is hot…very hot. This summer we have been over 100 (37.8C) degrees Fahrenheit most days and have had runs from 112 (44.4) up to 116 (46.6C). People who leave during these months of the year are called snowbirds for a reason. They leave when it's hot and return from whence they migrate (somewhere in the snowy north) to enjoy some of the best weather in the country.

We live here year-round. Forty percent of our neighborhood’s population inhales and exhales (comes and goes) according to the seasonal changes.

Then there is the monsoon season when the rains come. Since we live on the western edge of the Catalina Mountains, when the rains come water coming down the slopes can accumulate in washes (think dry river beds), turning them into raging waters. Every year, people ignore warnings about avoiding flooded roads and find themselves swept away in life-threatening situations. The season officially begins on June 15^th, but usually, the rains don't find their ways to our environs until early to mid-July.

This brings us back to our redesigned backyard. Greg is a ‘young' sixty-year-old artistic botanist. He knows desert plants intimately, and understands how best to distribute them in living spaces – like our backyard. Eli, on the other hand, is the landscaper. He and his team do the ‘pick and shovel' work to move the creative thought process to reality.

In San Diego and when we first came to Oro Valley, to watch bird life, we put feeders out. We learned that attracting that many fowl can also attract small predators. Additionally, when there was food, the birds came in crowds. When there was none, not only were the feeders bare, but the birds found ways to greener pastures.

Greg suggested we place naturally occurring desert plants that would provide sustained food for nectar consuming birds. So, we accepted his suggestions and Eli came to change the flowers, bushes, and architecture of the backyard.

We have collected rain water for a couple of years in a 265-gallon tank. This allows us to save and use it to water in the dry season. The yard now has small indentations called swales to capture water during the monsoon season. Water from these ‘mini ponds’ slowly seeps into the ground providing a more sustained water source to help harden our plants and bushes.

In an earlier post (June 11^th), the backyard was described in more detail. Our desire was to make the yard reflect the desert plant life around us, and a place where small animals and birds could find shelter and food. While it has only been in place a little over a month, it is thriving. It will take a few years for the Desert Willow trees to gain enough height to shade the yard. But the young Creosote, Chuparosa, Blackfoot Daisies, Desert Lavender, and Mexican Bird of Paradise are attracting several varieties hummingbirds and other birds, as well as Carpenter Arizona bees, to shelter and feed on the natural environment that is our newly reconstructed backyard.

These little creatures don't come in hoards, but in small and steady streams to partake in part of their daily sustenance. When Molly waters in the early morning, it is not unusual to see hummingbirds fly into the gentle spray to bathe in flight. It also isn't unusual for them to flit over to us and hover to see what curiously bizarre creatures we are.

Greg and Eli were correct. We (those fellows) designed and built it. Mini wildlife are coming, and we could not be more delighted.

- ted

Friendship – good medicine...

“When things are young they are supple,

when they are old they become stiff.”

– Lao Tzu – Tao Te Ching

“A man that hath friends must

shew himself friendly…”

– Proverbs 18:24 - Bible

There is something about aging that in many ways makes life much better. There are little impediments that slow one down. But by and large, as the time passes I find the quality of life getting better and better. A lot probably has to do with diet, exercise, sleep and time to concentrate on things that really matter.

A big piece of life quality, however, has to do with friends I have made since coming to Tucson. A good part of my professional life has been on the road. This made it difficult to develop and sustain friendships in the places I have lived. Here, however, a number of people have entered my life. Some of them are part of a writer’s co-op to which I belong. We meet weekly and work on the manuscripts we are writing. While each of us is quite different, we find meaning in the common goal of writing the best work we can.

Then there is a small group of folks with whom I get together for no reason other than we enjoy each other’s company. There are no common projects or objectives to accomplish. We just like to be around each other. This is big because it has always been difficult for me to develop close personal relationships.

Gail and Frank and Reggie are three of these people. Each of them is different and thoughtful and smart and challenging, and in their own ways add quality to my life. I always look forward to seeing them. We never run out of things to say. We listen to one another and are tolerant of each other’s thoughts and ideas.

Most every week, Gail wanders over to our little home for a Sunday lunch and a Netflix or Amazon Prime PBS mystery series. It began with Neil DeGrasse Tyson’s Cosmos and has become, with a few exceptions, a tradition. She and Molly are friends and she and I are friends, each for different reasons. The girls love baseball, cats and work together on a local board. Gail and I find common ground in philosophy and spiritual topics. When we are together, there is a lot to talk about.

Frank and I meet weekly to hang out and shoot the breeze. Generally, this includes lunch. We have also done a few things like movies, a museum or two, shooting a little pool, and hiking. But the things we ‘do’ are just an excuse to spend time together exploring the things that interest us. He and I met on an airplane a couple of years ago, and after returning home we got together. It’s been going on ever since.

Reggie and I met in a writer’s workshop at our local library shortly after we both moved to Oro Valley. We took a liking to one another almost instantly. He and I walk in the early mornings every couple of weeks. We finish our treks in padded rocking chairs drinking coffee and chewing the fat…no jokes about old guys on porches in rocking chairs, please. Nothing is rushed. The conversations are easy and never fail to make the two of us feel better about the coming day.

Marcus Aurelius says that human beings were made for social interaction. We are, after all, social creatures…islands of thought – thought machines so to speak, driven by curiosity to find other islands of thought with whom we can interact, floating in the oceans of life. When we do, it doesn’t get much better than that.

Maybe we do get stiffer with age, but the great lubricating antidote is friendship.

- ted

All good things must...

“Your presence edified.  Your

contribution missed.”

– Anonymous

I lost a friend and companion this weekend.

I really don’t want to talk about it, but at my age, I have learned that it is good for the soul to express sorrow…it is a cleansing thing.

My companion and I met some twenty or more years ago. In the beginning, it took time to sort how best to interact. I suppose that's the case in any relationship. Before long, however, we found a place. It was effortless to work with her…the relationship professional all the way.

I was clear with Molly from the beginning that the girl and I would be seeing a lot of each other. As it turns out Molly was all right with it, although she made comments from time to time about the continual relationship. I argued that the girl matured over the years, and although like all of us got a little long in the tooth and worn, she was consistent as the day is long.

We began traveling together on short hops and expanded to longer trips. We have logged more than two million miles together. Oh, I had opportunities to travel with more attractive colleagues, in fact, it happened a few times. But in the end, I always came back to her.

The great thing about it is that she never once complained…not a jealous bone in her body. Whenever I tired of the others, she was there – no fair-weather friend she. Her presence was comforting. The rhythm we developed, the nuances of her body…all of it – every single bit felt right.

Now, however, it's time to say good-bye. The breakup began on a trip to Europe this past week. Like most things to which one is committed I did not see it coming. I mean, we shared a comfort that I felt would go on forever.

We had just checked in at the Aalborg Airport when the accident happened. It seemed odd because we had done the exact same thing hundreds of time. My young friend, Andreas, was helping me by taking her arm and giving it a tug. Bang! It broke.

In an instant, I knew it would never be the same again. I was even concerned I would not be able to get her home. There is nothing worse than an unexpected accident when one is tens of thousands of miles away – and yet, there it was…she was, broken…not just in arm, but in spirit. Hers and mine.

We still had a long way to go. From Aalborg to London, a small hotel room together, before the final leg home to Tucson. We both knew it would be our last. I left her in the room and went for a walk that misty morning on the streets near Heathrow airport. I had already begun to mourn, for I knew it would never be the same.

Molly was waiting for us when we arrived after this trip. While she shared my sorrow, I could tell it was not to the same depth.

I took my time with her at the house, going gently through the routine we had so often done. It would be the last time, the damage permanent.

I know there will be another day, but damn, I am going to miss that suitcase!

- ted