Tag Archives: Theodore Roosevelt Island

December 2024: Melancholy, Memories, and Marcescence

November 2024

Preparations A few hours ago, I separated a pot of anthuriums and made two pots. Yesterday, I picked my remaining little red Thai peppers. I dehydrated them in the oven and now they are ready for spicy winter meals. I also separated my chives into three pots. It’s high time as they have been pot-bound for a year or two. I love chives because, while keeping a low profile and causing no problems, they produce healthy bits of green for salads and soups throughout the year. A week or so ago, I repotted my bay plant and brought it inside for the winter. I am not sure whether or not I will bring the rosemary in for the winter. Our weather forecast is for another warm winter. Besides, through the years, I haven’t noticed that my rosemary plants have enjoyed being inside. Thyme, Italian oregano, and mint are happy where they are, whatever weather comes.

anthurium

Yesterday, when Tom and I went to the grocery store, I stocked up a bit. A few more rolls of toilet paper and paper towels and an extra jar of peanut butter, nothing much. Later on at the drugstore, I picked up vitamins on the the “buy one, get another at 50% off” deal and, as is my habit, I snagged two bags of Starbucks French roast coffee on sale. I received our allotment of free Covid tests several weeks ago. I ordered a new pair of jogging shoes (I mostly walk) that should arrive tomorrow. I also have cleaned two drawers and my closet is next on the list.

I am preparing. I always enjoy preparing for the dark months of winter. I sometimes wonder if this strong need is in my DNA from my German and Scottish ancestors. This year is different, though, I think my preparations help keep me from worrying too much about next week’s election.

More preparations for the election:

I voted at the Ellen M. Bozman Government Center on September 23, 2024.
I recently paid my yearly dues for Common Cause and ACLU.
I sent five small donations to the Democratic Party.
With my friend Donna, I saw a timely production of Romeo and Juliet at the Folger Theatre.
With Tom and other volunteers, I planted native trees at the Allie S. Freed Park in Arlington, Virginia.
In the last few weeks, Tom and I have visited the National Gallery, the Hirshhorn Museum, the National Museum of the American Indian, and several Smithsonian gardens.
In October, I flew to Salt Lake City to talk with dear friends again (See Roads).
I keep reading, most recently Camino Ghosts by John Grisham and Nature’s Temples: A Natural History of Old-Growth Forests by Joan Maloof.
I walk in the beautiful fall.

Romeo and Juliet, Folger Theatre

asters, Red Butte Garden and Arboretum Salt Lake City, Utah

Camino Ghosts and Nature’s Temple

When I was walking in the neighborhood yesterday, instead of Yeats or Wordsworth or Shakespeare, in my head, I heard the words from Small Faces from “Itchycoo Park“: “It’s all too beautiful.” I am a child of my generation. What I really think, though, is that it is all so beautiful. Troubled and complicated as it is, I don’t want our American democracy to end at the hands of a racist, sexist, narcissistic fascist and his collaborators. November 5, 2024 is Election Day and also my 75th birthday. I have been pretty lucky in this life so far; I am hoping the luck of our country holds firm and strong on Tuesday.

Some photos that make me feel calmer and more hopeful before Election Day:

black walnut, Ft. C.F. Smith, Arlington, Virginia

upper path, Theodore Roosevelt Island

Widforss Trail, North Rim, Grand Canyon

Sleeping Bear National Lakeshore

Shenandoah National Park

pearl crescent on white snakeroot

Bear Lake State Park, Idaho

The Needles, Canyonlands National Park

Union Bay, Lake Superior

Spring Ephemera

Autumn 2023

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In early October, I worked on an article about the current rash of book banning. My plan was to finish the post in time to publish it for Banned Books Week (October 1-7, 2023). It turns out that I had too much to think and write about books (and schools and libraries) to complete an article by my self-imposed deadline. I am still planning to complete that article, but I need to ruminate a bit more before I finish. Also, in September, I picked up a case of Covid-19 on our trip to Michigan. A few weeks later, I either relapsed or picked up a crazy bad cold/flu. I can report that I feel fine now and I am back to seeing family and friends, cranking out high intensity intervals at the gym, and transplanting seedlings at the Arlington County native plant nursery. Below are some words and recent photos from Michigan, the Washington, D.C. area, and my walk last week on Theodore Roosevelt Island.

Michigan

Tom and I try to travel to Michigan at least once a year. We enjoy visiting family and the places we love. Each year, we also try to see some places we haven’t been yet. At one of our favorite places–Sleeping Bear National Lakeshore–we hiked in a new area: Pyramid Point. There, the vistas, woods, meadows, flowers, and bugs, were just as beautiful as we have come to expect in this park. After Sleeping Bear, we headed east to Lake Huron. I went to YWCA camp on Lake Huron as a teenager. Tom and I and our children camped decades ago on the Canadian side of Huron. However, it was time to visit Tawas, a place I had heard of all my life. Tawas Point State Park, was yet another pretty and friendly Michigan park where one routinely shoots the breeze with strangers and shares a bit of early morning bird-watching.

For the first time in my life, I camped at Proud Lake Recreation Area. This is notable because the the campground is 3.7 miles by car (it would be considerably less as the crow flies) from my childhood home. The trees, fields, water, and the air itself seemed familiar and comfortable at Proud Lake. I must say, also, that I have not been bitten by so many mosquitos, since I left my lake home. The price we Michiganders pay for all that water!

There is beauty wherever Tom and I live or travel, but I always count myself lucky when I can get a dose of the pleasant peninsulas.

Empire Bluffs Trail, Sleeping Bear National Lakeshore

Pyramid Point Trail, Sleeping Bear National Lakeshore

meadow trail near Pyramid Point

pure green sweat bee near Pyramid Point

silky dogwood, Tawas Point State Park

Tawas Point Lighthouse, Tawas Point State Park

swamp aster, Proud Lake Recreation Area, Commerce Charter Township

Washington, D.C. Area

Reading the newspapers or watching the news, I think a person might possibly get a skewed idea about the Washington, D.C. area. I am not saying that the news is necessarily wrong, just that it isn’t a comprehensive view. Yes, I’ve seen the fences around the Supreme Court, Congress, and the White House. I was under curfew on January 6, 2021. Tom saw military gunboats in the Potomac River before the last inauguration. I saw the Pentagon burning in the days after 9/11. And on and on, but…I have attended an uncountable number of wonderful concerts, festivals, fireworks, and protests. I have visited monuments, memorials, cemeteries, libraries, and parks. Then there are the museums–still a marvel to me after all these years. I don’t forget the gardens. Tom and I walk through the gardens–spring, summer, fall, winter–through the decades. I like all the big things like the monuments and memorials, but the gardens help keep me close to the ground.

bee on tropical milkweed, U.S. Botanic Garden

buttonbush, Quincy Park, Arlington, Virginia

milkweed bugs, Bartholdi Park, Washington, D.C.

maple tree, Quincy Park, Arlington, Virginia

Theodore Roosevelt Island, November 16, 2023

Last Thursday was a lovely day on the island. It is curious to me how this little, overused island–with the jets flying overhead, the Kennedy Center peeking through the trees, and its often filthy bathroom–makes my feet happy and my soul calm(er). On Thursday, I heard many birds and saw a few. I heard one or more Carolina wren, white-throated sparrow, northern flicker, robin, song sparrow, swamp sparrow, yellow-rumped warbler, belted kingfisher, and mallard.

from the walking bridge

lower path

upper path

hickory nut and leaves

mallard

Thanksgiving

In my family we have taken to having potluck meals on Thanksgiving: bring what you want and you don’t have to tell anyone what you are bringing. We started this during darkest Covid times. We would meet outside on a picnic table at Walter Reed Park in Arlington. I was thankful that so many of my loved ones were alive and that we could share food together (alas, Robert and Rebekah were in far distant Pittsburgh). The food, while always delicious, was not the main dish. Seeing dear ones in person was better than all the turkey, dressing, and pecan pie I have ever eaten.

Even with the continuing problems of our country and the world (sometimes it seems like things are getting ever worse), I am grateful, for my family, friends, and this still beautiful world. Happy Thanksgiving.

Happy New Year, 2022

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When I first considered writing this article, I briefly thought about calling it just “New Year, 2022.” This would be my snarky comment about the state of the continuing pandemic, our national politics, climate disasters, and just about everything else. My terse title would say: nope, not expecting happy things this year either. Almost immediately, though, I remembered that snarky and cynical don’t look well on me. More importantly, I see that all jumbled up with my weariness and anxiety are bits of happiness (or contentment or, at least, acceptance).*

January 31 As it is, I have put off finishing this post until the last day of the month. Luckily, Lunar New Year is beginning, so I am coming in just under the wire. Here is a list of things that make me feel better about going into a new year. I need this list to remind myself of all the good parts of my life.

The people abide. I walk by playgrounds and I see children playing as they always do. Parents are keeping an eye on the kids as parents do. Every time we go to the National Mall, Tom and I see people enjoying the museums, gardens, the ice rink, and food trucks. Despite the continual dose of disturbing news–let alone the wars and rumors of wars–I see helpers and kind people around me every day. I see the workers at my condo and my local grocery store, and those who seek out and help all the lost and lonely ones.

My county still has heart. Tom and I first moved to Arlington County, Virginia in June 1978 and have lived here on an off since. Our children went to school here. In the 1980s we lived a couple blocks from Arlington CentraI Library where I worked part-time. Later I taught immigrants and refugees in Arlington. We were here on September 11, 2001 and saw the Pentagon burning. Again, three decades later, we live a couple blocks from Central Library. Now, in Covid times, Central Library has free WiFi for all in the parking lot, a food pantry, a vegetable patch, and is surrounded by a native plant garden. Most importantly, perhaps, is the library’s strong stand as a safe place for everyone in the community.

*Arlington Central Library, Arlington, Virginia*

Nature comforts me. I find both wonder and solace in the plants, animals, rocks, and sky that I encounter.

Dawn comes. Every day we see the morning light. We follow that light through the day until it is evening. All the light warms us.

We have family, friends, music, and food. I remember the many good parts of my life. I also remember those who have gone. I have listened to Tom play Mozart sonatas almost every day of the pandemic and I feel lucky. It’s the time of year when I remember “Auld Lang Syne.” I shiver or cry or both when I hear the song. I want and need that cup.

For old acquaintance be forgot
And never brought to mind
Should old acquaintance be forgot
In the days of auld lang syne?

For auld lang syne, my dear
For auld lang syne
We’ll drink a cup of kindness yet
For the sake of auld lang syne

Hope is still around here somewhere. So many words from the wise ones exhort people to live for the day, be in the present, etc. I am on board with that-not that I can do it all that much. I still spend plenty of emotional time in the past and the future, and I am not sure that is all bad. Just a couple of weeks ago, I made camping reservations for early June in Arizona and Utah. Tom and I don’t know how we will feel or how things will be shaping up with the pandemic. We don’t know much of anything. However, we remember the places and people we love from the old days. Maybe we can get to the North Rim another time. Maybe we can visit Capitol Reef and camp on the Aquarius Plateau. Maybe we can go back to Fishlake National Forest and be near Pando (a clonal colony of quaking aspen considered by some to be the largest single living organism on earth) one more time. Maybe we will drink a cup of kindness again with the friends of our youth (now of our age). I am hoping.

I recently bought a new head lamp. I am hoping it will lead me through dark nights to bright dawns.

*If I were grading this essay, I would comment on the need for more specific language than “happiness” or “contentment.” I hope the examples and the photos add some heft to the words. Happy New Year! (Added 1/31/2022: Chúc mừng năm mới).

Spring 2021

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*spring near the Arts and Industries Building, National Mall, Washington, D.C.*

I started writing a post in early April–it is still in my drafts file–but I got annoyed by WordPress’ new publishing format and let my words and photos dangle in the airless vault of the Internet. Even though “technology” was featured in two of my most recent job titles, I am somewhat of a Luddite. However, I do think that as programs, platforms, applications, and what-all become more streamlined and standardized, it is possible that creative work can become overly lockstep. Enough of my carping excuses for my procrastination: I want to write about spring before Memorial Day!

I might have shaded the truth a bit (above) about the reason/s for my procrastination. What is slowing me down is that I keep thinking about the almost 600,000 people who have died of Covid-19 in the United States and the millions more around the world, and about those who loved and cared for them. Also, I live 4.5 miles away (by foot) from the U.S. Capitol and I was under curfew on January 6, 2021. That spooked me and saddened me. Before the Inauguration, Tom saw an armed gunboat patrolling the Potomac River near Georgetown. When the celebratory fireworks began on Inauguration night, I worried that our country and its institutions were under attack again. I continue to be gobsmacked by lies, disrespect, viciousness, and what-all. Also, I feel somewhat discomfited about how lucky I have been through all this mess and about the–mostly–good spring I have had.

Some Paragraphs

I have been wanting to tell you this for awhile: For months, I got through each day by getting the next day’s coffee ready ridiculously early, like at 1 p.m. I wasn’t sure I had the emotional energy to get the coffee machine ready before bed, let alone the next morning. Not a solution to any problem, but, and this is the truth now, having the coffee ready to go helped me feel ready for whatever might be coming the next day.
I don’t usually pray, but I do try to send good thoughts and love to our children and their families every night. Some nights, I fall asleep before I finish my good thoughts.
It has been almost nine weeks since our second vaccinations. Tom and I have been lucky to see and hug many family members and friends. We have been to Shenandoah National Park, Williamsburg, Pittsburgh, and Shaker Heights, Ohio. We have more jaunts in the works. Now, we are staying fairly close to home. Later, we don’t know where we will go. We are still waiting to find out which way the wind is blowing.

We have had a beautiful spring here. I think we always have beautiful springs wherever we are, but this season has been another one. On April 26 on Theodore Roosevelt Island I noted these flora and fauna: Carolina wren with oak catkin in mouth, another C wren?, another wren or warbler???, mallards, heard red-winged blackbird, several birds I couldn’t identify, turkey vultures, robins, sparrows, lots of minnows from bridge by the marsh, cabbage butterflies, other butterflies–slight possibility of a zebra swallowtail?, pawpaws-no flowers, tall meadow rue, lots of garlic mustard, Virginia waterleaf, Hartford fern?, horsetails. As usual, I had a few questions about what I observed. I can report that I have now seen some blooming pawpaws and that the tall meadow rue is going into flower. Note: All these nature words aren’t just small items on a useless list; they keep me close to the ground where–even in difficult times–I feel safe.

*Virginia waterleaf, Theodore Roosevelt Island*

*trees and sun, Theodore Roosevelt Island*

Spring did come after that difficult winter and now summer is about to follow. The 17-year cicadas are tuning up around here and the roses are coming out. I hope to see some of you soon. So long (as my Dad would say) and best wishes.

Winter 2021

August 2020: Music

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double rainbow, July 28, 2020

July finally ended. Some days I felt light headed and a bit dizzy. I mostly thought it was just my head and heart going wonky from the pandemic/Trump in the Black Hills and all the rest. Or maybe it was the virus, but the doctor doesn’t think so. She thinks I am having a little vertigo from an ear issue. We did see the double rainbow in the sky from our condo when John Lewis was lying in state at the Capitol. The black-eyed Susans we planted at Hillside Park have been blooming up a storm, and the Potomac River rolls on by, so beauty is still around us.

black-eyed Susan

Even though I claim to be an agnostic, I am always alert to signs from some other plane. Here is the sign for today: I heard “Let it Be” twice on the radio this morning and it comforted me. I hope it will do the same for you.

When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be
And in my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be
Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be

And when the broken hearted people living in the world agree
There will be an answer, let it be
For though they may be parted, there is still a chance that they will see
There will be an answer, let it be
Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be
There will be an answer, let it be
Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be
Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be

And when the night is cloudy there is still a light that shines on me
Shine until tomorrow, let it be
I wake up to the sound of music, Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be
Let it be, let it be, let it be, yeah, let it be
There will be an answer, let it be
Let it be, let it be, let it be, yeah, let it be
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be

Lennon/McCartney

Potomac River and Theodore Roosevelt Island

Theodore Roosevelt Island and Potomac River

Close to the Ground: Living Inductively

Lynda Terrill

Tag Archives: Theodore Roosevelt Island

December 2024: Melancholy, Memories, and Marcescence

November 2024

Spring Ephemera

Autumn 2023

Happy New Year, 2022

Spring 2021

Winter 2021

August 2020: Music