November 21, 2015, Prescott- I looked, to no avail, for a parking spot near the point where I left off on Prescott Circle, last Saturday.  I have an ethic about such things:  Never park on a business lot, unless patronizing said business.  So, the second half of Segment 7 will wait until after Thanksgiving, most likely until the afternoon of December 6.

That bit of irrelevance aside, the outdoors, as is well known to my readers, is a huge part of my life.  Positivity arises from the mountains, the desert, the beaches, the grasslands and the serene forests.  Even the ocean has given me a sense of serenity.

Sedona's red rocks and pine forests abound in good vibrations, as do "our own" forests, lakes and grasslands, around Prescott and vicinity. The vortices of Sedona are closely matched by Thumb Butte.

I have felt similar vibrations elsewhere:  At Indian Gardens, along the Grand Canyon's Bright Angel Trail; at both Spirit ("Devil's") Tower and Medicine Wheel, in northeast Wyoming; at Cahokia Mounds and at the Cairo Confluence, in southern Illinois; at Palo Duro Canyon, in northwest Texas; at Cape Flattery, Washington (the northwestern-most point in the contiguous United States; atop Harney Peak, South Dakota; at several points along Waikiki Beach, Hawai'i; and at more places than I can count, in southeast Alaska.  Then, too, Spirit knows no boundaries:  Stanley Park, Vancouver, the woods of Metz and Le Donjon, Rouen, France, held me in rapt respect.

The wind spoke to me, while on the ocean between Honolulu and San Diego and the rock along the River Trail glowed, in multicolours, when I first visited Palo Duro.  Spiders rode the breeze, on their webs, at Cathedral Rock, Sedona and spun exquisite places of rest in Olustee State Park, Florida, while I watched, in wonder.

There will, no doubt, be other encounters on the road ahead.  Nature eternally urges us onward.

November 20, 2015, Prescott-  I spent today at Mile High Middle School, here in town.  The classes' focus for the week was facing prejudice.  The main class had been watching "The Diary of Anne Frank" (2009 miniseries), and finished today.  The Honours classes viewed "Simon Birch" (1998), a film that examines institutionalized, "faith-based" prejudice in a small town. The clever teacher, for whom I was covering, had done a fine job in responding to the events of Nov. 12-13.

My response to those has been engaging in Positivity Week, an annual project of the blogger Cherokee Writer.  Today, I'd like to note my life's ten positive themes:

1. Children and youth- I so deeply love the younger generations, that helping them build on their personal strengths, and their futures, remains my central focus.

2.  Faith- I am a Baha'i, because of the comprehensive, all-inclusive and forward thinking that infuses every Word of Baha'u'llah's Writings.  No nation or group need be left out of the World Order, as He envisions it.  It was nice to finally feel like I belonged somewhere, beyond immediate family, and  I still feel it.

3.  Family- My son, mother, siblings, in-laws and all extended family bring me great pride and solace.  That the holidays will find me among many of them offers yet more of these.

4.  Nature- I will elaborate a bit more in the next post, but being in a natural setting gives me all manner of reassurance, that life is resilient.

5. Music- Various genres alternately soothe and energize me.  One of my earliest memories is of marching alongside the Varsity Marching Band, in the Independence Day parade, when I was about four.

6.  Heritage-Both history and lore have fascinated me, since I was small.  Growing up in a town which honoured both Indigenous peoples and settlers from Europe helped engender this focus.

7. Literature-  Fiction and nonfiction alike led me to learn to read early on, and I often had my nose in a book, when others would be watching TV.

8.  Justice- I have been urgently concerned with having the right thing happen, since I was in grade school.

9. Personal development- Largely due to my personal challenges, a major focus of my being has been to own up to, and address, defects and weaknesses.

10.  Mercy-  I have tended to forgive and move on, after slights or mistreatments.  Though I am less forgiving of hurts to children or vulnerable people than I am of injuries to myself, there is still a sense that it falls to the Divine to exact true justice.

 

November 19, 2015, Chino Valley- Day Four of my friend's Positivity Week looks at good news from the mass media.  I find two such reports today.

One, in the Chino Valley Review, (http://cvrnews.com/main.asp?SectionID=1&SubSectionID=446&ArticleID=61041), details our school's annual Science Fair.  Two of my current students won First Place ribbons, though in fairness, most of the preparatory work on this was done by my predecessor and the leg work, by the boys' parents.  The ideas came from the students themselves, which is the main thing.

The second, reported on Phoenix-area television, concerns a nine-year-old boy and his emotional-support animal, a pot-bellied pig, which he had named Maggie.  The animal was the subject of an anonymous complaint, leading to the City of Chandler moving to force the family to get rid of  Maggie.    The family, their neighbours and animal-rights activists banded together and, citing the Americans with Disabilities Act, persuaded the city to reverse its decision.  The one down-street neighbour who raised the objection has also relented.

These past two weeks have had lots of bad news, but the brightness is also here.  The light is building, even as darkness rises in clouds.

 

November 18, 2015, Chino Valley- I have a long history of self- doubt and second guessing.  My late wife had just about cured me of these, when her disease took her to the Spirit Realm, five years ago, next March.  On my own, since, I have had to face myself and look at the smiling, approving people in my life, while looking past the stern-faced ones.  The biggest task is letting myself be among the former.

It was a bit tough, this evening, after a good, productive but tiring day, to face a meeting with people who were stern-faced and all business.  I got it done, though I had to get hold of myself, as doubt began to slip back in. Rule Number One, anymore, is not to let detractors get a sense of any vulnerability I might feel.

So, here are three positives about me, which no one can take away.  First:  I am committed to bringing peace, safety and tranquility to the lives of children and other vulnerable people in my life.  Second, I am doing better at taking the time to get my tasks done properly.  Third, I take a larger view of things, so what I can do to help the wider society, in reaching its legitimate goals, is well-worth any personal sacrifice.

I am believing more in my abilities, every morning I have the honour of waking.

 

November 17, 2015, Chino Valley- I will have more to say about the year that is winding to a close, when my 65th birthday comes along.  Day 2 of Positivity Week has, as its theme, the topic of how this year has been positive.

Any given year has its light and shadow.  I am sad for those who have suffered losses this year, and it seems there are no shortage of friends and extended family, in that regard.  The only positive aspect of loss is that the departed is no longer suffering.  This is cold comfort to the bereaved.

My most positive memories of this year will revolve around the places I visited and revisited- and the work I have been doing for the past month or so.  Most important has been that this work has sent me flying out of my comfort zone, in terms of working towards an Elementary Teaching Certificate, after 39 years in the profession.

Seeing my son enjoy a year of relative success is also  a major positive.  He has continued to do me nothing but proud, and has established himself fully as a responsible adult.

2015’s positivity lies mainly in the lessons I have drawn from its events, about which more next weekend.

November 16, 2015, Chino Valley- A friend online has set the week before Thanksgiving as Positivity Week.  No year is more apropos for such an event as this one is, in the wake of such misguided efforts by the disquiet among us, to sow the seeds of fear and doubt.

Her first day’s theme is A Vacation Memory.  Let me go back to 1961, when I was ten and Dad took me to Mt. Chocorua, New Hampshire.  It was my first real tent-camping experience, and my first real uphill climb.  I recall the scent of pines, the feeling of security in the morning, when I awoke to dryness underneath, thanks to our having placed sodcloth and groundcloth as the first layers of our tentsite and the sense of accomplishment at having helped my father build a campfire.

The hike up Mt. Chocorua, under a crystal-clear sky, established my love of the outdoors and of trails.  The chatter of chipmunks, and of blue jays, also made me feel at home.

We would visit the White Mountains several times thereafter, and I would hike the Presidential Range, alone, in 1975.  That week, though, established my father’s indelible presence in my life, and that made the biggest difference.

November 15, 2015, Prescott- 

Fingers placed in the pie of another,

must first receive word of his druthers.

Assuming one’s neighbours will concur

with a sordid plan,

shows no keen understanding of fellow man.

The self-righteous tyrants striking one another,

will soon find the True Almighty calling them to account,

and rending them asunder.

November 14, 2015, Prescott- The nice thing about most Saturdays is that they tend to be the most open-ended day of the week.  Today, for example, gave me a chance for a haircut, though not to visit the Farmer’s Market.

The trade-off came with the commemoration of one of our greatest Holy Days:  The anniversary of the Birth of Baha’u’llah.  As I explained a day or so ago, we Baha’is now observe this Day in tandem with the anniversary of the Birth of Al-Bab.  The spiritual power of these “twin” Holy Days has yet to be seen by humanity-at-large, but it is felt by me, and millions of others around the world.

About twenty-five of us gathered at the home of a retired physician and a retired pharmacist.  We shared the account of Baha’u’llah’s early life and several prayers, then enjoyed yet another fine Persian repast, prepared by the ladies.  Among the particular delights were two types of chicken:  Rosemary and marmalade.  These give me two more ideas for the crock pot, this winter.  Lamb meatballs were also delectable, but it would take me lots more practice to get those done right.

After tarrying and conversing with my fellows-in-faith, a bit longer than usual on a beautiful afternoon, I headed home, changed clothes, and course, hitting the trail on Segment 7 of Prescott Circle Trail.  The northern half of this segment occupied me from 3-6:30 P.M., and takes in about 4.5 miles, between Watson Lake and State Highway 69.

The area is one in which I have driven several times a week, while glancing over at the wilderness between several industrial parks and one of our major shopping plazas.  Today, I got to walk that wilderness.  Largely scrub oak forest and tall grass, it traverses an old city landfill, now home to a medium-sized herd of deer, and a pristine valley, looking somewhat like a bowl, carved by two creeks, over thousands of years. Here are some shots of the northern half of Segment 7.

This is a southern extension of the Peavine Trail, part of the Rails-to-Trails Project.  It follows an underpass at the junction with Prescott Lakes Boulevard, the connector road from northeast Prescott to State Highway 69.

This scene, and the next one, are atop the former Prescott landfill, now left to area wildlife, and their admirers.

This crushed rock bed serves as a drainage medium.

Coming down off the landfill site, I crossed this dry wash, then went past the Yavapai County Justice Center,  a juvenile court.  There was no activity there, today.

Several bicyclists shared the trail with me today, coming quickly downhill, into washes like this.

This area, west of a WalMart, of all things, is as quiet and unassuming as any woodland in Prescott National Forest, some three miles further south.

From the ridge above the “bowl” seen above, I had this view of the hazy hills to the west and northwest.

Atop Old Bullwhacker Hill, I saw the southern half of Segment 7.

At the foot of Old Bullwhacker, I found another copse of trees and a dry creek bed, between two shopping centers.

This trail leads to a culvert, through which one may pass under the busy AZ Highway 69.

As I was wending my way back to the Peavine Parking Lot, I got a call from Aram, filling me in on some news from his end.  After a ten-minute conversation, I looked down and saw this little affirmation, from the Universe.

November 13, 2015, Phoenix- I spent a good part of the day here, taking my third and last Elementary Certification Test.  While my day, to and from this bustling city, was peaceful, Paris’s Friday was the opposite.  DASH, or IS, or whatever the relics of medievalism call themselves, cast the City of Light in mayhem and blood.

With 129, or more, innocent people slaughtered, I am on my knees in homage to the great city, which welcomed me in June, 2014.  My adulthood has been late in blooming, and Paris gave me some key lessons, in that regard.

I learned:  Two very different places, within the same city, can have the same, or very similar names.  So, I trudged up the hill, to beautiful Montmartre, only to have a tourist office clerk patiently explain that my hotel would be found on Rue de Montmartre- down the hill, in central Paris.

I learned that French people can be quite annoyed with a visitor’s foibles, yet still provide fine service- this at my hotel, and again at the France Pass counter, in the west train station.

I learned that, even if one is slightly less than punctual, a tour guide is willing to take one into the group- once.  I didn’t chance being a few minutes late, the second time, though.

I learned that I was fully capable of catching, and dodging, the various ruses used by the “Gold Ring Grifters” and the subway “Card Swipers” (whose “service” consisted of swiping one subway ticket through the card reader, in hopes of a 200 Euro tip.)

I learned that Paris, with all its majesty, its splendour, its sheer humanity, has room for one more, regardless of background, status or appearance.  I also learned that its Metro cars are not like those of Tokyo.  There are no pushers, cramming people in.  On the Metro, the one more must often wait for the next train.

Still and all, when I return to Paris, perhaps in the summer of 2018, or five years hence, I will find a welcoming presence, expecting one who is a bit wiser in the ways of La Luminee.  We shall not disappoint each other.  I feel your sorrow, your pain, mon coeur.

November 12, 2015, Chino Valley-

I head homeward,

upon ending a successful day.

Many bright ideas were in view,

As our Science Fair displayed.

Now come the Twin Birthdays,

of Al-Bab and Baha’u’llah.

The Gate and Blessed Beauty,

Behold, and stand in awe!

This verse is in honour of the commemorations of the Births of Baha’u’llah, and His Herald, Al-Bab (The Gate), which are celebrated on November 13 (Al-Bab’s) and 14 (Baha’u’llah), as these are the days on which the Anniversaries fall, when gauged by the Badi, or Baha’i, Calendar, which is pegged to begin with the Vernal Equinox of the Northern Hemisphere (Autumnal, in the Southern Hemisphere).  As the Equinox may fluctuate, from year to year, so will Baha’i Holy Days, including the Twin Anniversaries, fall on slightly different days, from one year to the next.

We Baha’is in the Prescott area had a lovely devotional, followed by an incomparable Persian dinner, in honouring Al-Bab, this evening.  The same will ensue on Saturday, in honour of Baha’u’llah.