Wednesday

The hawks, fully reunited, greet the winter sunrise.


By the time I leave for work, the sun is well up. The tiny speck in the center of this photo is a blue heron. Leonard McKinney told me these water birds carry prayers from the tipis. For the last dozen years, there has been a heron frequenting this pond and the creek around my house.

When I am along the creek, even as large as the heron is, I never notice it or hear it until it takes flight some yards ahead of me. It is such a large bird, its presence so unexpected, and its wings makes such a noise that it never fails to make my heart race.

A heron must live most of its life alone in the still places, by quiet water. I understand. My westernized mind cannot always grasp the things the Indians tell me, but when I become still enough, like the water, I know these birds for certain carry the prayers.


Returning home at moonrise.



And at the end of another day, I see the heron feeding in the last moments of daylight.

Crazy Old Crystal Lady

Truly a beautiful crystal.

Some people collect match book covers, or tea pots, or cars. Sometimes old ladies collect cats. I collect something quite similar to cats (without the litter box): crystals. As with cats, you cannot "do" anything with crystals. You simply enjoy living with them. I have a favorite supplier for my crystal addiction, a woman from Arkansas who mines her own to sell to desperate people like me.

I have my favorite crystals, but if I had to give any away, they would suddenly all become favorites. My collection is not to the point that my house is overrun, but if I were to get all of the crystals out of storage and displayed, it would require a lot of shelf space.

This weekend I found a beauty, a Dow crystal, a certain crystal formation considered "perfect" by Sir George Henry L. Dow, III. (Nah, I just made that up.) I do not know who named crystals with three faces of sevens and three faces of three "Dow", and neither do I know why that would that make them any more perfect than any other crystal. This Dow has inclusions and rainbows and unusual smaller crystals growing from it. It also has a huge phantom within it. A phantom is the outline of a crystal within a crystal. Folklore says it represents a progression of lives. Science says it is caused by various minerals present at the formation of the crystal.

I am not sure that even science knows exactly how quartz crystals are formed. For instance, there are naturally double-terminated crystals, meaning they have faces at both ends and therefore did not form upwards from a matrix. Crystals are manufactured in the laboratory, so the process of crystallization is understood. Otherwise, from what I have read, no one is exactly sure how crystals are naturally created - all at once, or do they grow over time?

Some of my crystals have "pictures" of pyramids on their faces and sides, both Egyptian pyramids and Mayan. They do not merely resemble pyramids, they are perfect isometric images of pyramids. And they are not scratched into the surface, but of the crystal itself. Some have strangely consistent geometries that resemble symbols, and appear to be an unknown alphabet. Some have inclusions that look like galaxies and nebulae and star trails. Some have perfectly formed triangles raised on their faces. Some are more subtle, being within the quartz. Some have many triangles nested together. These triangles are called record keepers. It is said they contain the knowledge and history of the world.

To me, crystals are beautiful manifestations of the mysterious physical laws that make our corporeal lives possible within the Great Dreaming of our mother planet. Examining crystals closely, it is easy to understand why they have such a rich mythological history. They are magical to hold in your hand. It is easy to allow your imagination to drift away into them.


I took a dozen photos of this crystal and each one looks different!


This shard is so clear that it did not show up against the dark blue.

My Horse Ginger

 

This is Ginger, the fat horse, the ruler of Spirit Creek. She is not the most beautiful horse in the world, but she is the most beautiful horse I own. She thinks she is the supreme queen of the universe because she bosses me around, and Terrie the farrier, and Dr. J the veterinarian, and anyone else she gets the chance to boss around.

I did not name her Ginger. She came to me already named. There are a million chestnut horses called Ginger in this world thanks to all the people who read Black Beauty as children. My Ginger is like the old time Quarter Horses: short and stocky, with a thin mane and a large jaw. My neighbor calls Ginger "cute" but that does not fool me. It is just her code word for "ugly". My neighbor has no appreciation for the American Quarter Horse. The men who delivered Annie to me thought Ginger was an expensive registered horse. They were surprised when I said she was just grade. They were guys who made their living around horses, too. In all fairness, compared to Annie that day, Ginger did look like royalty. 

It is not right to keep a horse alone and away from others of their own kind. I have been looking for a companion for Ginger but have not had good luck. The right horse is out there, I just have to be diligent.

The Sun, The Moon and The Stars

The Sun's Halo


The Moon and the Rose


and the Sweet Gum Stars... all in Gage Park.

The AlienThat Forced Me To Spend Money

I took a wrong turn the other day and discovered this amazing entity clinging to a building. I was so intrigued that I went directly to a retail outlet and purchased a new digital camera expressly to get photos of this alien life form.

I have been wanting a better camera for a long time, so this ivy was the impetus for taking the plunge. (No one has to tell me that the photos taken with the expensive camera are no better than the photos taken with the little dummy-proof camera, okay? I am still operating in the "Uhhhhhhh" mode of the new camera.) Eventually I will learn how to use the creative possibilities - maybe. I think. I hope.

The New Camera...

The evening star adorns the last moments of daylight.






Untouched prairie in its radiant red glory.



My beloved Kansas rising against the open sky.

The Alpaca Experience

Photo by Anne Williamson - from Topeka Capital Journal, 2011

The sixth annual Mid-America Alpaca show was held in Topeka last weekend. Free admission. Why not go, I asked myself. I have seen an alpaca or two in my day, but I had never seen several hundred alpacas in one place. They are gentle and strange creatures with impossibly large eyes. They make a quiet mewing noise that is comforting the way a cat's purring is comforting. I wanted to put my hands on every one I saw but I restrained myself.

People and their alpacas traveled to Topeka from everywhere in the United States. Apparently, the fair is a big deal in the alpaca industry. I spoke to several people. I was even invited to visit an alpaca ranch in Minnesota. They kept throwing in enticements: wood burning stove in the guest house; timber wolves; Minnesota scenery; lots of alpacas. Visit anytime!

Some of the money raised by the fair goes to support veterinarian classes at state universities, including Kansas State. With only about 150,000 alpacas in the United States, there is not a common pool of veterinarian knowledge available, but that is changing.

Alpacas are not prolific breeders, so building a herd takes some time and a lot of money. A good breeding female costs several thousand dollars. Stud service from a male with highly prized wool is $2000. It is not an industry just any fool can afford to jump into with both feet and that is a good thing. The animals are so gentle that it would be an extreme tragedy for any alpaca to fall into the hands of an abusive or neglectful human being.

I also talked with a lady who has just started a not-for-profit business based on her alpacas. It is "Alpacas for Autism". It seems that by pairing alpacas and autistic children some sort of magic happens. She has a camp for children at her ranch. She is also in the process of establishing classes for fiber work (weaving, crochet, knitting), and marketing and entrepreneurship classes for families dealing with autism. What a brilliant idea.

Since the fair, I have been considering alpaca ranching as my second career. There are only a few years left before I retire. It seems it would be a fun and profitable endeavor. I could freely pet my own alpacas at any time of the day or night. Even if the entire herd stampeded me, I would likely live to tell of it. I would actually be a rancher, at long last. I would not have to worry about selling the animals for food as they are far more valuable as breeders and for their fiber. It would be so much fun when the mother alpacas had their babies. I could go to alpaca shows to sit around talking to people from far away places. Of course, that is just the dream. Reality would quite likely be vastly different. It might be so boring that I would be begging strangers to visit my alpaca ranch - any time, any time at all.