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.

November 11, 2015, Phoenix- I spent a goodly part of the day here, in a dental hygienist’s chair, getting a sketchy, but hardy, tooth lasered and shored-up.  As it happened, I was there during the 11th Minute of the 11th Hour, on the 11th Day of the Eleventh Month.  This is Armistice Day, called Veterans Day in the U.S. and Canada.  I was maintaining an armistice with my tooth, and we seem to realize that we need each other.

Seriously, though, I am a veteran- of the Vietnam Conflict.  I went over there in March, 1971, because a high school friend, snarky, energetic and self-confident though he was, had died over there.  I went over there because one of the most honest men I’ve ever known got shot through the throat, and lived to regain his voice.  I went over there because the first twenty years of my life had passed, in the words of a fellow soldier who had known nothing but constant indignity most of his life, “without a single hard day”.

I went to Vietnam to find the truth.  I found a corrupt regime, paying lip service to the American ideals, for which we were fighting and dying.  I found people who lived far differently from the way I had been raised, nonetheless telling me of their hopes and dreams for the future, and realizing they were not much different from mine.  I found that the human race makes the world a neighbourhood.

Veterans come home from war.  Some are welcomed.  Some are shunned.  Some neither welcome nor shun themselves; they just drift.  I see all three types on the streets, of any given town.  In Prescott, where I now live, we will enjoy a Midwestern variation of Paprika Chicken, served over rice.  That is of Hungarian origin, but is listed as an “Ohio specialty”.  Any veteran who wants, may partake of this, at our American Legion Post.  Then again, there are seven or eight establishments offering free food of one sort or another, to Veterans, during the course of the day.

I’ve been lucky.  My PTSD was minimal.  Veterans who have more severe cases, need all our support and consideration.  These are my free-flowing thoughts on Veterans’ Day, 2015.

November 10, 2015, Chino Valley- It rained hard, and hailed, in early afternoon.  The last time that happened, my students freaked out and I had to be very firm with them.  Today, also a day before a mid-week holiday, all I had to do was calmly remind them that there was no need to flip out, because of weather. We were all safe and warm, and they decided there was no need for excitement.  I’m very proud of the kids, and see steady progress in a number of areas, both emotional and academic.  They made birthday cards for their last teacher, who retired a month ago, and as it happened, she came by today, so she got the cards.  Nothing could have pleased her more.

I am also making headway with the close-knit adults, and was invited to their Christmas party, in mid-December.  The only impediments to my staying on, it seems, are Pearson Testing Services and the State.  The former is notoriously slow to verify  passing of its exams, and Arizona won’t act until Pearson does.  Eventually, I will get my certification, though, and being calm in the midst of chaos will again pay off.

November 9, 2015, Chino Valley- I has now been almost a month, since I took on this work.  As I expected, several people have come on my sites and chided me for coming “out of retirement.”  My affairs and choices are mine alone, though, so I take my hat off to those who have stood by my side.  The boo-birds aren’t going to be anywhere around, when I am in the oldest stages of life, and I am determined to not be the least burden to my son and other family.

The bottom line is, I am working  harder than I have in years, because the group of children needs a tireless advocate.  I can go on like this, for at least five years, and longer, if necessary. So, for the next month, and most likely longer, here I am.  I don’t have to be anyone’s favourite.

November 8, 2015, Prescott- I started today by attending breakfast at the American Legion Post, a standard for me on Sunday mornings, over the past four years.  My usual table mate and conversation buddy was not there, due to illness, but there were several others at table, who were fine company.  Many people are ill, at present.  My phone had several messages, pertaining to a paternal aunt who is chronically ill.  Fortunately, she is bouncing back.

Afterwards, I joined a reflection and planning meeting of our local Baha’i community, and made some solid plans for the next three months.  Several people made their needs and wishes known, and we will do our best, as a wider community, to go forward together.  The coordinator plans well, so the meeting kept flowing.  Our next three months ought to be full, and fulfilling.

My energy level was a bit down, after yesterday, so I chose to do laundry, and little else, after the meeting.  Change of seasons, and of temperature, zaps me for a day or two, and early to bed- for a few nights- will make things right again.  My plan to hike Segment 7, of the Prescott Circle Trail, will be brought to fruition next Saturday- if the weather holds.

The best laid plans have to be as flexible as all else in the universe.

November 7, 2015, Flagstaff- I rose early, for a Saturday, so as to get up  here to Northern Arizona University, and take two of the three exams I must take, in order to obtain certification as an elementary teacher (1-8), in Arizona.  I have several other certificates:  Secondary Teacher, Guidance Counselor and Principal.  The position I am now filling, as a substitute teacher, however, is not something I can continue to do, long term, without credentials.

I also think it is high time I moved through the self-doubt cloud, and showed my true abilities, both to myself and to the world at large.  My spirit guides keep saying, “This day of yours will not be followed by night.”  I know this means that the present opportunity will not be taken from me, by shallow politics or my own tendency to trip myself up.

This time, I will be okay, work-wise.  This time, I know how to navigate the small circle which runs the school.  In the past, I gave too much energy to my being an outsider.  That status might still be extant, but the children are who matter most.  I will be standing, at the end of the term, and at the end of the academic year.

November 6, 2015, Prescott- Aram spent two days here, and we got all of his possessions packed and loaded for his return to San Diego.  He is standing on his own, in a full-fledged way. I could not be prouder of the powerful, clear-headed, forthright man he has become.  There are times when I wish I could stand as tall, figuratively, but I know it has come hard for him.

We ended his time here with an hour or so hiking in the Granite Dells, north of Watson Lake.  This is an exquisite side trail to Prescott Circle, and one of which I could never tire.

Here are a few scenes.

The above is the first sight of the Dells, along the Flume Trail, a vigourous hike, which takes the high road to Watson Dam.

The sad part is, there is no flow to Granite Creek here, and it’s algae ridden.

I was able to make the trail, without a walking stick.

We spotted a leak in the feeder pipe, attached to the dam.  At least the structure itself is not leaking.

The next order of business was to head for the overlook.  The Dells and Watson are a divine match.

I took a rest, among the boulders away from the trail, a bit.

A lone butte, across the road from the trailhead, keeps watch on the Dells.

Our adventure ended around 3:30, then Aram headed back towards his place of maturity.  I tucked into a fine meal at the Legion, and enjoyed a drum circle with friends, later this evening.  It’s been a fantastic day.

November 4-5, Chino Valley-  My son arrived on Wednesday evening, for a two-day visit.  Of necessity, he was on his own, for the better part of Thursday, as I had to care for the little ones.  Tasks ranging from administering spelling and reading tests, to enlightening a curious child as to why it is not a good idea to blend marker ink into a cup of drinking water, and call it “Blue Lemonade”, occupied me for the seven hours I devoted to work.

My days are certainly at once exasperating and exhilarating.  Children go through minor crises, and as long as the adults in their lives deal with these at the “minor” stage, they are just fine.  Besides, they notice the skillsets employed, and take these into themselves, for future reference.

My day starts an hour earlier than it used to, and in the dark.  Somehow, though, the tasks I face are de rigeur, and not as draining as they once were.  I chalk that up to the improvements wrought by my essential oil supplements, and the guidance offered me from the world beyond, both on a daily basis.

Son’s presence has made a happy difference, also.  He is taking his stored possessions off my hands, and is ever a source of both intellectual and emotional support.  We indulged in Thai cuisine, this evening, and I was able to offer him a comfortable mattress and warm place to sleep, albeit in the living room of my one-bedroom abode.

Life, no matter what the day’s agenda or the events which bring it to fruition, has come to resemble a flow.  The water within is clear, and envigourating.