Last spring on the vernal equinox, a delightful ten-year-old boy was visiting 1880.  I learned several things from him that I never learned while raising girls.

First, apparently, boys don’t think it’s fun to sleep on the floor in a sleeping bag or even on a camp cot.  And, second, they can be very literal thinkers, unlike little girls.

I told him that on every equinox, the sun rises directly outside my east window, right behind my neighbor’s giant fir tree.  He thought my point was that the tree blocked my view. I guess I didn’t explain my point very well, but I think my little girls would have grasped it at once.

Perhaps at ten, male right brains are lagging behind just a bit.  We know that their left brains are already amazingly developed.

Here’s the point I wanted to make:

The universe is vast and constantly in motion.  Heavenly bodies orbit and spin and whirl and rotate and revolve; and yet, everything comes round right and in its proper place at the proper time and we should stand in awe of that.

I hope he comes to visit again next spring.  I think I’ll have everyone sleep on the floor in the living room in sleeping bags by the fire and tell stories all night.

I wonder if, at age eleven, he will get it when I drag him upstairs to look out the window at the sunrise.

In the meantime, I leave that part of his development to his un-step-mother, my daughter, who loves being a part of his life.  Like her sisters, she remembers to look at the sky and see magical things.

(photo credit ESU Roger’s Mesa 9/16/16)

Well, to begin, it’s not very big and we didn’t really paddle.  A more accurate word would be “dawdle.” And even at that speed, it only took two hours to circumnavigate.

Perfect end-of-summer day below the north face of Mount Washington.

Looking the other direction, was the back of HooDoo, the Butte, and Three Finger Jack.

Not ultraoligotrophic like Clear Lake.  Just oligotrophic.  But it was enough for me to get a picture of my own shadow on the bottom of the lake.

We stopped off on the way home to eat on the deck behind Marion Forks Cafe.  Great spot right next to the North Santiam.

Our table had its own humming bird feeder.

Then we headed on home, taking the scenic route, as usual.

We have to be so careful not to offend!

Someone recently asked me, “What is your background?” I actually thought she had noticed my Oklahoma accent; but no, she was inquiring about my educational and professional history. She wanted to know if I had a clue about what I had just said. I responded by saying I was white and American Indian and changed the subject. I am sorry to say I was, in fact, mildly offended.

I now have removed that chip from my shoulder.

Just making small talk these days is fraught with peril!

Check out these “triggers to avoid”:

WHAT ‘MICROAGGRESSIONS’ SOUND LIKE

A sampling of language and behaviors called “microaggressions,” provided to Clark University students, that universities are urging students to avoid.

“Of course he’ll get tenure, even though he hasn’t published much — he’s black.”

“What are you? You are so interesting looking.”

Telling a nonwhite woman, “I would have never guessed that you were a scientist.”

When a nonwhite faculty member is mistaken for a service worker.

Showing surprise when a “feminine” woman says she is a lesbian.

“You are a credit to your race.”

I went to the animal fair.  The birds and the beasts were there.

Also the curly fries.