Travel – Page 15 – All It Takes Is A Little Love

Almost Heaven

Published on September 19, 2016September 19, 2016 by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

autumn evening above Bear Lake

Nobody can say for certain what heaven is like or even if it exists in a physical sense. It is highly possible that it is just an eternal feeling of peace in which a soul happily resides. I’ve heard a number of different theories but my favorite is that each of us gets to create the imagery for heaven that makes us the happiest. If that happens to be so then I can’t think of any locale where I would rather spend forever than the area around Rocky Mountain National Park.

I return to that enchanted place again and again and never seem to grow weary of seeing the magnificent peaks, the rivers and lakes, or the variety of animals. Every drive along Trail Ridge Road is different from the last. Depending on the weather and the time of day or year the view changes. A ray of sunshine here and a shadow there create new colors and draw my eye to never before noticed characteristics. The beauty is so breathtaking that the human mind is only able to take in so much in a single moment. I would not mind at all having the opportunity to explore even the tiniest nooks and crannies for all time.

There is something quite spiritual about that part of the world. Each time that I visit I am renewed. My soul is filled with contentment and a newfound certainty that God is ever present in our world if only we look for Him in the wondrous gifts that He has created. The people that I encounter there are mostly smiling and happy as though all of their cares and woes have been lifted from their minds. Like me they are enchanted by the abundance and rare beauty of nature. Life is taken down to its bare minimum. There is no need for fancy clothes, expensive cars or the latest hairstyle. Mostly everyone meanders along the paths with little thought of pretense. It is a freeing experience to be where judgements are suspended and everyone is simply partaking of wondrous simplicity.

Somehow the animals seem to rule Rocky Mountain National Park rather than the humans. We only observe and enjoy. It’s a good feeling to be laid back and unconcerned with trying to bend the world to our wills. Somehow it seems right to only be in the moment in a way that is far more difficult in the cities and towns that require our constant attention to things that in the end matter very little. I love to sit quietly and listen to the wind and feel its caress on my face. I enjoy watching a flock of hummingbirds buzzing joyfully over my head. The haunting sound of the elk is as lovely as a symphony.

Of course I don’t actually have to go to heaven to immerse myself in Rocky Mountain National Park. It is already there for all of us to enjoy thanks to the forward thinking of men like John Muir and Theodore Roosevelt who so loved the natural world that they thought it wise to set aside swaths of it so that future generations might one day realize what our country was like before we planted our footprint so indelibly on what had once been wild and free.

So many of the forests are now gone, cut down to make way for ever more people. I can recall vast tracts of natural sanctuaries even in cities like Houston in a time before there had been millions of residents vying for a plot of land. Over the decades we have chopped and burned and evicted the creatures who once roamed right in our own backyards. We have dumped our refuse in the waters often without regard. We put toxins into the air never thinking about what their longterm effect might be. Slowly but surely we are changing our earth. It is good that there are still places where our imprint is not quite as noticeable as it might otherwise be.

I so love the mountains. I suspect that if my earthly responsibilities had not demanded my presence in another place I might have chosen to live there. As it is I have only been able to visit now and again. I often wonder if bringing all of my baggage there would have ultimately polluted the purity of the feelings that I have when I am only a visitor. Maybe it is indeed best that I am limited in the time that I might spend in the area that brings me such a sense of joy. Perhaps if I were always there, concerned more with making it from day to day, I would be blinded by worries and lose my ability to see the spectacular.

I’m feeling a sense of profound contentment right now that will no doubt sustain me during those times when life becomes overwhelming. I have just spent a week reveling in the place that I love best. I am returning to reality and all of the ups and downs that each of us experience. I know that the mountains will wait for my return. They have never failed me. Even here in this always imperfect world they are almost heaven and I have experienced their wondrously healing power again and again. Perhaps one day if my life has been judged to be worthy I will know that joy for all time.

A Rescue

Published on August 3, 2016 by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

12805909_102632486799965_8624804996206720717_n (1) I used to babysit when I was a teenager. I have always enjoyed spending time with children. At twenty five cents an hour my income from those Friday and Saturday night gigs never came to much. It wasn’t unusual at all for me to walk away from a long evening of corralling as many as six youngsters with a dollar in my pocket. Taking care of dogs while neighbors were on vacation was always a much less labor intensive venture. It usually simply meant checking in on the little critters each day and filling their water and food bowls. Because most animals lived outside in a fenced in yard in those days there was no need to take them for walks or even spend a great deal of time with them. The pay couldn’t be based on hours so it was more like earning a professional salary, often as much as five dollars a week for little more than a few minutes of actual work. Caring for a pet was always like being generously compensated for having fun.

Today I am sitting in my daughter’s home about two hundred miles from my own abode for the purpose of keeping her two dogs comfortable in her absence. They are elegant little creatures who only spend enough time in the yard to relieve themselves several times each day. Instead they hold court in their domain of the great indoors. They recline in comfy beds designed solely for their comfort and play with a variety of toys that are only theirs. To say that they are loved is an understatement. I suspect that if they were allowed to travel inside the cabin of a plane and romp through Yellowstone National Park with their family, they would be enjoying a grand vacation right now. Instead they have to stay behind while the rest of their crew takes some time off each year.

From appearances one might come to the false conclusion that the two dogs have always been coddled but that would be false. The main reason that I am watching them in the familiar environment of their home is because one of them has only recently been rescued from an horrific fate. She is a beautiful collie who not long ago was found wandering the streets of Kansas with a shabby and mangy coat and a body so thin that it appeared that she had not eaten in weeks. She was homeless, hungry and very sick, so much so that she was initially deemed a lost cause by those who found her. But for the goodness of a Texas rescue group she would have been summarily put to sleep. Instead she traveled hundreds of miles with kindly individuals who wanted the opportunity to make her whole again. In the end she survived her ordeal and once again became beautiful. That’s when my daughter and her children saw a photograph of her and knew that she needed to be theirs.

The team that rescued her interviewed the family and then brought the dog to visit their home. Everyone fell in love with her immediately and the caseworker could see that the sweet little dog would be treasured. A deal was struck and she became a member of the clan but not without a few more bumps in the road.

The children named her Hermione for one of their favorite characters in the Harry Potter series of books. She lived up to her name in appearance but was far more anxious and timid than Harry’s plucky sidekick. It became immediately apparent that she had endured far more than anyone imagined. She was skittish, often pacing nervously around the room as though she was in fear that something terrible might happen at any moment. She was particularly frightened of men, causing all of us to wonder if she had been abused at the hands of some brute in her long and treacherous journey. It took her much more time to trust her new keepers but ever so slowly she began to realize that they were not going to hurt her.

She sat next to my daughter for most of the day and slept in my granddaughter’s room at night. Even though she would run from my son-in-law she enjoyed sitting at his feet under his desk whenever he worked on his computer in the evenings. Lucy, the other little pup who already lived in the house slowly coaxed Hermione into playing with her and the boys. Over time she relaxed and began to trust the members of her new family. Her coat began to gleam from the care that they gave her. Her tail wagged more often than it fell between her legs. She began to show more and more of her personality which is quiet and gentle. She became protective of the people who had provided her with a loving home but sometimes her past still haunted her in her dreams. There were moments when she would cry but now there was someone to comfort her.

I’m here today because my daughter feared that it was too soon to send Hermione to a kennel or even to my home while everyone was away on vacation. She felt that the poor girl might think that she was being abandoned once again. It seemed best to allow Hermione to enjoy the comforts of the environment that she has grown to love. I was enlisted to watch over her and her little companion, Lucy.

Our days are rather simple. They begin with a trip outdoors followed by a nice breakfast. We play for a time and then they squeeze in a morning nap while I write. They love to curl up on the couch and snore. It is quite peaceful. Later we snuggle and play. They enjoy being hugged and petted. When one comes the other follows and pushes her way to the fore. They are like two kids with a sibling rivalry, wanting as much attention as I am willing to give. It is easy to care for them and I joke with them that I plan to steal them away to my home when it is time for me to return.

They are doing well although it is apparent that they long for their family to come home once again. I suspect that they lose track of time but certain instincts tell them that those that they love have been away far longer than usual. Luckily they know me well enough to trust that eventually all will soon be normal again. I am quite happy to be able to spend time with them. They are both very good dogs who have done their best to make me feel welcome. They demonstrate their gratitude for my efforts and let me know that they are happy to have me here with them.

Dogs are indeed remarkable creatures. They are so faithful and loving. It is difficult for me to imagine why anyone would ever be cruel to them. They rely on us for their care and feeding but give back far more in return for our efforts. They are a glorious gift that we should cherish and thankfully there are kind souls who do rescue work to help the pups who have been neglected or abused. It warms my heart to know that my daughter and her family have taken the time to bring joy and contentment to Hermione, a little collie who might otherwise have died.

Caring for a pet brings out the best instincts in humans. It is a task requiring responsibility and love. It appeals to our better natures and makes our world a happier place to be. As I sit in the quiet and watch my grand dogs snoring peacefully I feel relaxed and content. I wonder if we humans rescue them or they rescue us.

You Just Might Get What You Need

Published on August 1, 2016 by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

davis-mountains-night-sky Fort Davis, Texas is a tiny town nestled in the shadow of the Guadelupe Mountains in the far western reaches of the state. It is a place with so little human footprint that it is home to the MacDonald Observatory and the annual gathering of the Texas Star Party. Here the stars at night truly are big and bright. Without the lights of more populous areas it is possible to see the nighttime sky the way it was once viewed by our ancestors. It is a place where it becomes easy to sense our place in the universe and in turn to shed the baggage of stressful times. In Fort Davis, particularly when the day is done, the stars, the planets and the creatures of the night remind us that we are part of a vast expanse of history that has come before us and is still yet to happen. It is a humbling and healing experience to be there.

Fort Davis came to be in the middle of the nineteenth century when the California gold rush led to an unprecedented western movement. The journey was long and treacherous, moving through deserts and land belonging to Native Americans who were becoming increasingly more concerned about settlers claiming property as their own. The fort was not just a way station for travelers but also a means of protection for safe passage. It was home to officers and their families as well as the famous Buffalo Soldiers, Black recruits so named by the Comanches who were fascinated by the dark skinned men. It was a rough and tumble society on the outer edges of civilization where everyone had to work together to keep things from falling apart.

The fort and its purpose lasted only a brief time. When the Civil War broke out it was used as a western outpost for the Union Army until the Confederates defeated the troops there and used it for their own purposes. After the war it once again became useful but not for long. It was abandoned late in the nineteenth century and sat that way for decades. Luckily there weren’t many people in that part of the world and so the buildings were never completely destroyed. They simply sat waiting for someone to notice their historical significance and to restore them to their former glory.

Today they are a living record of an era when many citizens of our country were seeking futures for themselves and their children. It takes little imagination to understand the difficulties of their journeys. The post is four hundred miles from San Antonio which now as then was the only major city in any direction. At a rate of five miles per hour, the wagons that carried the families were excruciatingly slow. Travel took more than ten times longer than it does today and that was if all other conditions along the route were perfect. I thought of how long it had taken us to pull our trailer from San Antonio to Los Angeles on our vacation and began to understand the sacrifices that the travelers had to make. I thought of the heat and the uncertainty of the road ahead and marveled that anyone might have felt adventurous or desperate enough to consider such a daunting expedition.

There is a hospital in the fort that holds records from the doctors who worked there. The stories tell of horrors such as the family that lost seven children in two weeks to diphtheria. The primitive nature of the treatments are as frightening as the injuries and diseases that found their way so far from the rest of humanity and yet the daily lives of the people who came here were often as routine as anywhere. They wrote to friends and family back home and celebrated the coming and going of the seasons. They drilled on the parade ground and periodically defended themselves against cattle rustlers and thieves. They watched the comings and goings of the pioneer families and no doubt observed the same stars at night that continue to brighten the skies. When they were gone they seemed to have been forgotten for a time but today thanks to the National Park Service they are remembered by people like me who walk in the shadows of their history with a kind of awe.

Fort Davis is now mostly a destination for tourists and astronomers. Those seeking refuge from the hurly burly of our modern times like to sit on the porches of the inns on the main street of town and listen to the silence. An old time drug store offers a daily menu of breakfast, lunch and dinner along with a soda fountain featuring banana splits and root beer floats. Fort Davis State Park has tent sites and full hookups for campers. The Prude Ranch which hosts the Texas Star Party offers horse back riding and a vicarious ranching experience. The MacDonald Observatory is a scientific wonder that hosts tours and star gazing opportunities for the public even while it studies the heavens and learns more and more about our universe.

There are things to do in and near Fort Davis for those who like to keep busy but it is also the consummate location for simply relaxing. We spent an entire evening just gazing at the stars which were so plentiful that it was breathtaking. Some people actually sleep during the day and stay awake all night long to watch the changing spectacle in the sky as the earth spins on its axis.

Being in Fort Davis is a priceless experience that puts life so clearly into focus. Somehow out where mankind has such a small footprint it is easier to understand that our days and our nights will continue in much the same way that they have for eternity and none of our worries will change that. It reminds us of the beauty of nature and the cosmos and urges us to realize that we owe it to ourselves and to the future to honor the miraculous magic of our world. It tells us to learn from both the courage and mistakes of our past. It challenges us to become protectors of humans and nature lest we lose what is most important.

We know more about how things work than at any other time in history but I suspect that just as our ancestors, we still have much to learn. We need not berate ourselves for the ignorance of those who came before us but instead should celebrate the knowledge that has allowed us to become better. Somehow both our history and our future converge in Fort Davis in a way that makes our path as the human race seem so much clearer. It is difficult to visit this place without changing just a bit. It is both spiritual and scientific, reaching into the head and the heart. You won’t find raucous and artificial excitement here but you just might find what you need.

A Heavenly City

Published on July 28, 2016 by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

Torrey-Pines-State-Natural-Reserve-California-community-of-La-Jolla-San-Diego-California-1024x682 My youngest grandson William sometimes gets lost in the raucous crowd of his fellow grandchildren. There are seven of them in toto, ranging from a second year college student all the way down to a rising fifth grader. They are a good bunch of kids who are all quite polite, bright and hard working. Mike and I decided some years back to give each of them a special vacation with us. Our journeys across America began with a trip to Boston and over time took us to San Francisco, Washington D.C., New York City, Seattle, Canada and a host of national parks, museums and art galleries. At long last it was William’s turn to choose a destination.

After briefly considering a drive along the Atlantic coast or a Florida excursion featuring Miami, he quite surprisingly settled on going to southern California, specifically to San Diego, and he wanted his sister Abby to accompany us. His determination overcame my own misgivings. In all of my years I had never thought of trekking to that city. I’d heard about it from my mom whose descriptions of the place came from a time when our country was embroiled in a world war. I thought of it mainly as a military town that just happens to be on the border of Mexico as well. I found little reason to desire seeing it and my only connection with it was a brief stop over on the tarmac of its airport which allowed me to view the harbor as we landed. I felt that my glimpse of the city was all that I needed and thought no more about this little jewel that is so often forgotten in the shadow of its California siblings like Los Angeles and San Francisco. When William insisted that this was his ultimate destination I concurred but wondered why it had been his choice.

We decided to take our travel trailer on the trip which necessitated a more extended time together than usual. It also allowed us to see the amazing sights along the way to San Diego. We enjoyed so many incredible places and activities as we slowly made our way west that I generally believed that our ultimate goal would be a letdown. I learned soon enough just how wrong I was.

San Diego is a beautiful city with a temperate climate even in the dog days of summer. Almost as soon as we had entered its boundaries we had left behind the soaring heat that had stalked us for days. Instead we were cooled by a constant breeze from the bay. The waters of the Pacific Ocean were an inviting, glimmering blue that shone in the sunlight like a blue topaz. The streets were clean and filled with smiling people who appeared to be participants in a permanent celebration of life. A huge gay pride festival gave way to Comic-Con while we were there. The skies were filled with colorful kites and laughter. The beaches were family friendly with little of the superficial sights of Malibu and enough warmth in the water for a day long love affair with the waves. I felt as though I had found a little paradise.

There are so many things to do in San Diego but William chose the leisurely route. He wanted to tour the U.S.S. Midway and took hours experiencing its many features. Afterwards his only desire was to enjoy a picnic at one of the city’s many parks and to drive along its scenic highways. Along the way we caught a glimpse of the downtown area and smiled at the fans making their way to a Padres game. We cooled our heels in the evening at our campground on Santee Lake, a lovely spot where we felt quite relaxed and happy.

Our premiere enjoyment came from a day at the beach. We had hope to go to La Jolla but our efforts were thwarted by the huge crowds and lack of parking spaces. Instead we discovered Torrey Pines State Park where we rented boogie boards and prepared for the sun with gallons of sunscreen. Mike built an enclosure with a tarp and we spent the rest of that glorious time dancing in the water, walking along the shoreline and watching the birds and the people who had joined us. Somehow our food tasted magically more delicious than usual and our smiles seemed permanently tattooed to our faces. We only grudgingly left when the sun grew dim. We wondered how the hours had ticked by so quickly. We laughed and excitedly talked over one another as we made our way back to our trailer. I knew that the beach had been a hit with William when he struggled to decide whether he had most enjoyed his romp in the ocean or his time in the land of Harry Potter at Universal City.

We decided to forgo a visit to the famous San Diego Zoo when we learned that over a third of the famous landmark is presently under construction and that the entrance fee would be about fifty dollars each. Commentaries from people who had been there warned us that the crowds were brutal and many of the animals spent most of their time sleeping, sometimes in hidden areas. The complaints were so frequent that William declared that he wanted to spend more of his remaining time outside in the invigorating ocean that so inspired and energized us.

We drove to the island of Coronado and explored its beaches and streets filled with quaint homes. We rode a boat into the harbor and marveled at the ships and the San Diego skyline as helicopters and planes flew overhead. We purchased a kite that featured a many colored parrot whose wings flew high above us in the gentle wind. Somehow we all knew that we would always remember that simple moment with the kite soaring aloft under William’s able guidance. Everything around us was perfection. The sky was a brilliant blue devoid of the pollution that had enveloped us in Los Angeles. The air caressed our skin unlike the harsh heat that had seemed to follow us all the way from Texas. The city and the ocean provided a gorgeous backdrop to the fluttering object that seemed as heaven bound as our own spirits. Nothing might have been more perfect and I found myself feeling especially grateful to William for having the foresight to choose San Diego for our once in a lifetime vacation together.

It was with great reluctance that we left San Diego. We all agreed that if we were ever to move to California we would want to live in that wonderful city. All of my preconceived notions about the place were laid to rest. It might possibly be the best of all the wondrous cities in this picturesque state and I plan to return again one day and maybe even bring William with me when I do.

The City of Angels and Demons

Published on July 26, 2016 by Sharron Burnett1 Comment

Los_Angeles_-_Echangeur_autoroute_110_105 I have just completed a five thousand mile road trip with my husband and two of my grandchildren. It was a glorious adventure that will be forever imprinted on my memory. Together we saw and did wondrous things. This morning I am experiencing the letdown that so often comes with a return to normalcy. It has been three weeks since I was last inside the realm of reality. I managed to avoid the depressing news cycles and the speechifying propaganda of the Republican convention. I suspect that my journey would have exceeded perfection if it had been timed to ignore the Democrat convention as well. If there is one thing that I know for certain it is that a single speech does not define a political animal so I really don’t need to watch the cleverly rehearsed commentaries to decide how to vote in November.

When last I submitted a blog I was on my way to Los Angeles. We were driving through the Mojave Desert from Needles, California, a place so hot and devoid of personality that I had to wonder why anyone ever chose to live there. I noted that it was the home of Spike, one of Snoopy’s brothers, and had to chuckle that it must be a dog’s life in that dry and forlorn place.

By the afternoon we had reached our destination in the greater Los Angeles metropolitan area after wandering through a seemingly endless stretch of bone dry land that was nonetheless hauntingly beautiful. Many miles out of the city we caught up with the famous LA traffic that slowed our progress to a disturbing crawl. It felt as though we had somehow found our way into a beehive of uninterrupted activity.

Los Angeles is a behemoth of a city. It stretches in every direction with seven lane highways creating pathways from one part of town to another. Even with such gigantic road systems progress along the roads is slow and deliberate. There is no room for the timid. The landscape is a patchwork of ethnic and economic diversity from the plenty of Wilshire Boulevard to the want of East LA.

We stayed in a campground just past Magic Mountain that harkened to the California of the nineteen fifties. My grandchildren voted it the best of its kind with its two kidney shaped swimming pools and credit card operated laundromat. It lay in the shadow of Santa Clarita where we shopped for provisions and cooled our heels on a Saturday afternoon watching a movie. I remarked at the time that the entire area appeared to be a tender box just waiting for someone to carelessly toss a cigarette or match. I mentally planned an escape route if the place were to suddenly become an inferno. Luckily we did not experience any problems but only one week after our departure an enormous wildfire broke out nearby and it continues to rage to this very day. It seems that my instincts were right on target.

We did the usual touristy things in Los Angeles. We visited Hollywood and even joined a snake-like parade of cars in the drive to see the famous sign that sits on a hill overlooking the city. We saw the Walk of Fame and drove through Beverly Hills. We went to Rodeo Drive and up and down Sunset Boulevard. I suspect that some of the luster chipped away for my grandchildren who found the endless traffic and the multitude of homeless to be quite disturbing.

They were much happier at Universal City where they immersed themselves in the fantasies of moviedom. Under their direction we arose early and arrived at the theme park at 7:30 in the morning. We were able to enjoy the Harry Potter section without crowds and partake of the rides a number of times without much wait. The attraction was indeed as magical as the children had hoped and served to reinstate their interest in this incredible city.

We stayed until the park closed at ten that night. We felt an ecstatic kind of exhaustion that comes after an incomparable day. We had braved roller coaster rides and an hour standing in line to tour the studios. We jumped in fright at a velociraptor and were taken by surprise by a giant Egyptian. We walked through the Walking Dead exhibit with delight and I had to laugh that my grandchildren seemed to be the only youngsters daring enough to do so. All in all the park was well worth the long journey that brought us to this place.

We did not have as much time in Los Angeles as we had hoped. We found that getting from one area to another was far more time consuming than we had imagined it would be. I had hoped to visit the Huntington Library on our final day but my crew was far too tired to make the trip. Instead we enjoyed the southern California sun at the swimming pool and took in a movie which seemed appropriate given our locale. Our journey to our next destination, San Diego, would take us across the entire north south expanse of the city and with wall to wall traffic that hardly moved we managed to see much more of this famous town.

Los Angeles is definitely a study in contrasts. North Hollywood where I lived for a short time when I was eight appears to have seen better days. Back then it was a middle class enclave with stucco structures much like the one where my family resided. We had a big yard with trees that shaded us from the sun. Our living room boasted a fireplace which was quite exotic to me. I recall riding a bus to school through hilly streets that held lovely structures that appeared to be the domains of the wealthy. Sixty years later the area has lost the luster that I remember from my childhood. It has a run down appearance as though it has been abandoned for greener pastures.

The LA freeways are in constant motion even at midnight. It seems as though the city never sleeps. In the more wealthy areas the streets are manicured and clean. In those where the economically disadvantaged reside there are mountains of trash littering the roads and bright and creative graffiti voicing the frustrations of those who experience want in a land of abundance. It is a vibrant place where one must keep moving just to stay in place. In many ways the city wore us out.

Even though my own home of Houston, Texas is the fourth largest area in the country it is a far cry from Los Angeles in terms of population and the problems that come with ministering to such an enormous number of residents. I found LA to be more than I want to handle at my age. I enjoyed the excitement for awhile but longed for a slower pace by the time that we departed.

Our three days in Los Angeles were wonderful nonetheless and I hope to one day return again. I have to admit that I found LA to be far less beautiful that the northern areas of the state. In spite of the luxurious estates of the rich and famous, Los Angeles still has a kind of gritty feel that evokes images more of the old west than opulent culture. It is a working man’s town where dreams seem likely to come true but often lead to bitter disappointment. It is a place filled with millions of stories that live themselves out while tourists imagine fantasies about what life must be like in this vast expanse. I have to commend anyone willing to try their luck in this city. It’s streets are both paved with gold and filled with dangerous detours but all in all it is a truly amazing place.