A Symbol by Any Other Name

“As a child, I always knew it was springtime when I opened my bedroom window and caught the subtle, heartwarming aroma of the season’s first blossoms wafting across the swamplands of home. Yep, if the skunk cabbage was blooming, summer was just around the corner.”

~ Spring is in the Air

Skunk Cabbage

If you were to ask me my favorite flower, I might tell you it is the Lysichiton americanus. But that would be far too pretentious. You know that whole “a rose by any other name would smell as sweet” line? A Lysichiton americanus, by its other name, smells like… well, like its namesake.

“Skunk cabbage” didn’t get its name from any black-and-white striped color scheme. It’s named for its distinctive “skunky” odor. So am I joking that it’s my favorite flower? Nope.

Growing up in a “wetland” area (formerly known as a swamp), the smell of skunk cabbage was indeed a harbinger of spring, which meant warmer weather and maybe just a tad less rain. Or maybe it meant warmer rain and a tad less weather. I forget.

But the symbolism of the skunk cabbage doesn’t just stop at being a seasonal reminder. Despite its stinky name, the plant is quite beautiful. Large, lush green leaves, bright yellow flowers. It livens even the fustiest of swamplands. And it does so by rising regally out of its surrounding mud and mire.

Somehow I find that inspiring. More so than a hothouse rose or a pampered orchid. It is raw no-fuss nature at its best. Simple beauty despite its odoriferous moniker. To me it symbolizes dignity, poise – maybe even grace – while amidst the muck of worldly living.

So, come Mother’s Day or my birthday or any other day one might be compelled to send me a bouquet of flowers, let it be roses. Come on, you didn’t expect me to say skunk cabbage, did you? Symbolism only goes so far.

Skunk Cabbage 2skunk cabbage painting

Weekly Photo Challenge: Symbol

Coming to my Senses: Touch

About five days into a summer cold and partway through my evening meal, it dawned on me that I couldn’t taste or smell the food I was eating. I was too congested from the cold. How long, I wondered, had I been impaired in those senses without even noticing?

I began to think about how I really take my five senses for granted, and I decided to try focusing on one sense for an entire day and see what I noticed that I may have otherwise missed. I chose the sense of touch since it wasn’t being effected by the cold.

I think of all the senses, touch would be the most dangerous one to lose. Feeling pain helps me pull away from potential harm, helps me realize that I need to realign my back when I am sitting improperly, helps me enjoy my pets, and helps me connect with others. Just for starters.

Here are some observations from my day:

 

Too hot, too cold? Shall I take my tea warmed or iced today? (Trick question; I only drink coffee).

Too hot, too cold? Shall I take my tea warmed or iced today? (Trick question; I only drink coffee).

 

Some branches are better for swinging on than others.

Some branches are better for swinging on than others.

 

It might behoove me to wear gloves when pulling this weed.

It might behoove me to wear gloves when pulling this weed.

 

Feeling the spiral wiring on my notebook, the ridges caused by my pen on pages I have used, the smoothness of clean pages waiting to be used, all adds to the pleasure of writing my daily journal entries.

Feeling the spiral wiring on my notebook, the ridges caused by my pen on pages I have used, the smoothness of clean pages waiting to be used, all adds to the pleasure of writing my daily journal entries.

 

Parched? Waterlogged? I talk to my plants on occasion, but so far they have suffered my neglect in silence. If the brown leaves aren’t a giveaway, I can feel the soil’s saturation level.

Parched? Waterlogged? I talk to my plants on occasion, but so far they have suffered my neglect in silence. If the brown leaves aren’t a “dead” giveaway, I can feel the soil’s saturation level to determine their needs.

 

Petting my soft cat is comforting and pleasurable. Plus I can catch him when he tries to use my leg as a scratching post.

Petting my soft cat is comforting and pleasurable. Plus I can catch him when he tries to use my leg as a scratching post.

 

Some water temperatures are more conducive to singing in the shower.

Some water temperatures are more conducive to singing in the shower.

 

I discover sooner rather than later when I should scream and do the get-that-creepy-thing-off-me dance.

I discover sooner rather than later when I should scream and do the get-that-creepy-thing-off-me dance.

 

Soft carpet, soft hair, soft skin.

Soft carpet, soft hair, soft skin.

It’s been an interesting experience to focus on the sensation of touch. I’ve decided to try this with each of my five senses (maybe even my sixth sense). Stay tuned!

Triumph (and a promise)

[Editorial note: Yes, it’s another dog post, but I promise to swear off dog posts for the rest of the month, maybe even longer. Promise. Cross my pawsfingers  — heart.]


Triumph is when you are doggedly chasing after a goal,

triumph4

and you finally catch up to that thing you’ve been chasing,

triumph2

but you manage to come away with a smile

triumph3

in spite of it.


Photo 101 Assignment 20: Triumph

Muse – Weekly Photo Challenge (photo essay)

This week’s Daily Post Photo Challenge theme is “Muse.” The question posed is “So what’s your muse — what subject do you turn to frequently, more inspired each time?”

Hmm… that’s a tough one. Not! I suppose it’s the subject that’s appeared in about 10% of all my posts so far. That would be my dog Chihuly.

hose

I usually call him Chules on social media as a courtesy to the glass artist, Dale Chihuly, after whom Chules was named. I don’t want search engines confusing the two. People looking for gorgeous glasswork and finding a gorgeous dog instead might be confused, because let’s face it, Chules sucks at glass art.

I also on occasion refer to him as Fuzz Butt. My dog, that is. As you can see in the photo below, that is an apt nickname.

“What’s going on? Let me look!”

“What’s going on? Let me look!”

He’s a dog of many faces.

tongue out

Someone on Facebook referred to him as a chameleon. He has his tender moments…

Friends forever.

Friends forever.

but he can be macho, too.

stick


Nothing like a good toothpick after the evening kibble.

He can be silly…

mic

Tap. Tap. “Is this microphone on? Okay, great! I’d like to dedicate this first song to my house mate, the tuxedo cat. Buddy, this one’s for you…”

He watches out for me.

deep end

Chules is checking out the deep end. He heard I’d gone off it.

And at the end of the day, he’s just a great companion.

resting

So you may be seeing more of my muse around here, but I’ll try to control myself and keep it under 15 percent. And for good measure, I’ll toss in the occasional photo of Sebastian, the tuxedo kitty.

Sabs

“Chules is such a show off, he gets all the attention. That’s okay. Everyone knows I’m smarter. And better looking. And I have a fuzzier derriere, too, but that’s beside the point.”


Weekly Photo Challenge: Muse

Memory Chip

I remember when a chip was a piece of wood that fell from a lumberjack’s axe. The wood was used to make paper which was used to make books which were stored in libraries.

lumberjack 1

This is a lumberjack made out of wood.

A library was a building where people could come to borrow books and take them home to read. The books were due back on a certain date, and there was a fine charged if the books were not returned on time.

gears

This is a torture machine used on people who didn’t return their books to the library on time. Just kidding! It’s actually more lumberjack stuff.

The library in the town where I grew up was housed in a building that took up an entire city block. I read many books that I took home from that library. Unfortunately my memory did not retain very much of the information that was in those books.

caterpillar

I could have driven this caterpillar to the library, but I did not. I drove an Oldsmobile Delta 88. It was gray.

Now chips come inside of computers that are smaller and weigh less than a lumberjack’s lunchbox. The amount of data stored in the city-block library in my home town could easily be stored in memory chips and accessed at any time virtually anywhere in the world with a smaller-than-a-lumberjack’s-lunchbox-sized computer.

lumberjack 2

Here’s another lumberjack. He’s probably never been to a library. Not because lumberjacks don’t go to libraries; but, you know, he’s made of wood.

I may have known how all of this computer stuff works at one time. I probably read it in a book. But my memory dulls faster than a lumberjack’s axe at a logging camp. Maybe someday I can upgrade to a memory chip that will help me recall all the books I have read.

That wood chip away at my memory problems for sure!

cat

This cat crawling around on logging machinery probably has a good memory. I wonder if his fur is naturally brown, or if that is dirt he acquired while crawling around on machinery. I think he’s supposed to be gray. Like my Oldsmobile.


(Photos taken at Camp 18 Logging Museum in Elsie, Oregon.)

Dancing Water (photo essay)

Along a street that I have driven hundreds of times in the past, my eyes were drawn this morning to a water feature in front of an office building. The early morning sunlight sparkled brilliantly off the cascading stream that cycled through a structure of concrete, rough boulders and river rock. I pulled over to check it out.

1

The fountain itself isn’t much to look at. With a casual glance from the street, one sees a sheet of water pouring over a concrete crossbeam and disappearing amidst some nondescript boulders.

Closer examination reveals that the water has been intentionally channeled (“choreographed,” one might say) to flow in streams that dance and glisten in the sunlight as they freefall to the rocks below.

2

I am reminded of the phrase “water over the dam,” which implies that something is over and done with and cannot be retracted or reconsidered. How many of us live as though the decisions and actions of our past have left us in a freefall of dire consequences over which we have no control?

4

Maybe water over the dam should mean that whatever happened in our past, “good” or “bad,” served to push us beyond sitting stagnant behind a wall of mediocrity, and has freed us to dance and sparkle in the sunlight on our way to something new.

5

We can choose to see the fountain as half empty or half full. Oh, wait, that’s an entirely different analogy. Never mind.

3

I’m glad I stopped to look at the fountain, and I’m going to try to be more observant of my surroundings in the future. Who knows? Maybe tomorrow I’ll find some water under the bridge.

6

World Oceans Day (photo essay)

Expansive and deep,
beautiful but volatile,
ample force to turn
vessels to splinters.

ocean3

Teeming with life,
ceaselessly churning,
an indefatigable
dynamo.

ocean4

Kissed by the sun,
caressed by the winds,
extolled by poets
and sailors alike.

ocean1

Sustainer of life
as we know it on Earth,
yet with all its
grandeur and might…

still fragile.

ocean2


What could be big enough to threaten and endanger our oceans (and thus our planet)?

Microplastics.

Microplastics particles, which are smaller than five millimeters in size, likely pose a massive environmental and human health risk when they enter our natural waterways.

Toxins including DDT, BPA and pesticides adhere to the particles, and because they can resemble plankton, they’re often ingested by small aquatic life. The toxins biomagnify as they move up the food chain, accumulating in birds, fish, marine mammals and potentially humans.

Adventurers and Scientists for Conservation (ASC)

June 8th, 2015 is World Oceans Day.

What can we do to help “turn the tide” on the dangerous amounts of plastics polluting the oceans?

  • We can work to increase awareness of the issue. Here’s a video of how one artist is doing that: Invisible Ocean: Plankton and Plastic. But it doesn’t have to be that complicated.
  • We can choose not to buy and use products that contain plastic microbeads (as in certain brands of toothpaste, facial cleansers, soaps…).
  • We can avoid using disposable plastic bags. (Take the Better Bag Challenge.)

These may seem like small steps toward tackling such a large problem ( just “a drop in the ocean,” so to speak), but that’s how things get done. Small actions lead to big changes.

Let’s act today.

starfish with rock


Thanks to Jane (Just Another Nature Enthusiast) and her challenge at UNLESS: Earth-friendly Chroniclers: Challenge 11~ “Healthy Oceans – Healthy Planet” for the inspiration.