"…and there was evening, and there was morning – the first day."

Following breakfast at Wildflower Bread Company we drove to Red Rock State Park on the west edge of Sedona for a hike. The Park contains about 300 acres which were acquired and is operated as a State Park to protect a section of Oak Creek in its natural state. It is popular for both visitor and local hiking.

The trails provide beautiful views of sandstone rock formations and cliffs which line the valley of Oak Creek. Below is a formation named Cathedral Rock.

If you look closely at the center of the following picture you can see a mule deer we came across as we hiked standing behind a yucca plant. There were a pair of them – the white rump of the second doe is barely recognizable through a fork of the dead tree at the right side of the photo. They watched us closely and spent most of the time standing behind a Pinyon Pine as we stopped and watched them.

There was a grove of thick white barked birch at one corner of the Park standing in contrast to the red sandstone cliff.

Oak Creek in the photo below

We walked 3.4 miles of the trails in the park according to my watch GPS. The 4 hours went quickly. I was constantly stopping to take a photo. There’s a new picture at every bend in the trail. The temperature was in the upper 50s and the air was still – the skies with a thin layer of clouds and some haze. We shed our jackets early in the walk. Some of my favorite places in the West are Red Rock country – Moab and Escalante and Mexican Hat and Monument Valley and Bryce Canyon, UT – Sedona matches up to them in beauty. Tomorrow’s plans are the Grand Canyon – back to back days of Southwest desert wows – I’d better get the camera battery in the charger.

We got up early Sunday morning – packed the minivan with some clothes and a cooler with my pomegranate juice and Darlene’s Gatorade – brewed a couple coffees on the Keurig in travel mugs with some Ghirardelli dark chocolate melting chips in the bottom and were on the road by 6:30 AM. We’ve been anticipating the trip for a few months now – it’s good when the day arrives and you’re able to drive away.

We have timeshare reservations for 5 nights in Sedona. I wanted to attend worship service in Gallup – about ½ way on the 360-mile journey. We made Gallup in time to grab an Egg McMuffin and still make most of Bible class followed by worship. The service was an encouragement with 50 or so friendly people in attendance. We’ve come to enjoy visiting little congregations on our trips out of town. We often travel on a Sunday because our timeshare points go farther for Sunday through Thursday stays.

We left Gallup after services. The air was crisp and clear – I could pick out the snow caps of the San Francisco peaks which sit beside Flagstaff from 100 miles away. The peaks impose themselves upon the high desert rising over 5,000 ft above Flagstaff at their base to an elevation of 12,600 ft. There is a ski resort at the top – not something expected in Arizona. We stopped in Flagstaff for a late lunch at the Beaver Street Brewery in the historic downtown. There was a chilly breeze on the day following a winter snow storm. We’ve spent quite a bit of time in Flagstaff over the years and Beaver Street is one of our favorite places to eat. We shared a Thai salmon burger and a bowl of great sweet potato fries. The fries came with a creamy dip with a strong rosemary flavor – interesting and good. The salmon burger tasted really fresh, and the Thai slaw on it was especially spicy and good.

Sedona is about 30 miles beyond Flagstaff to the southwest. Outside of Flagstaff a short distance the road drops down world famous Oak Creek Canyon. The elevation change as the canyon descends is a full 3,000 feet with Sedona at an elevation of 4,300 ft compared to Flagstaff at 7,000 ft. There are stretches of the canyon with switch back curves and serious drop offs at the edge of the road. On the trips up and down the canyon in years past I have often ended up behind a driver – maybe from Kansas – intimidated by the curves and drop offs – they creep along riding their brakes; hugging the canyon wall. It happened again this trip. I’ve ridden the canyon often on a Harley Davidson in years past. It was easy to just jump around a slow car on the Harley – double yellow lines or not – not so with life in a minivan – patience is forced upon me. I’m sure patience is a virtue and I will learn to enjoy and appreciate it someday. You can see Oak Creek at times as the road descends – the landscape changes from the Ponderosa pines of Flagstaff to broad leafed trees and bushes and junipers and cedars as the red rocks of Sedona come into view.

As the bottom of the canyon is reached the red rock cliffs and spires and rugged sandstone formations on both sides of the valley come into view. It is a special sight that is always remembered. It is one of those things you are anxious to tell people about when returning home – the words, though, can’t ever match the things that were seen. The photos help a little, but even pictures don’t do justice.

The Wyndham timeshare resort in Sedona is very nice – beautifully landscaped with spacious units – many of them with views of the surrounding sandstone cliffs. We first stayed here in the early 2000s when the units were first built. Here are pictures of the view from the patio I took this morning and the interior living area in the unit.

We’ve got 5 nights in Sedona before heading to Grand Junction, CO for Christmas weekend with children and grandchildren. We’re meeting some old friends not seen in 25 years for lunch one day – they live in Phoenix and we’re meeting at a café ½ way between us. Phil was minister at a congregation we were part of in the 1980s in Grand Junction. Though it has been many years I still count Phil and his wife, Rene, as special friends. Then we plan on driving to the Grand Canyon one day – we’ll tour some of the many art studios and shops for a day and try to walk trails some each day. It should be a good time – these 4 days and 5 nights – and they all start and end with a road trip – the destination is always in mind – but the trip days are also a very special part of it all.

We put the tree up a few days after Thanksgiving like most years. It is a tight fit in this little casa we moved to a few months ago. Darlene decorated the tree and got all of the Santa Claus’s and other decorations out of the storage containers and placed them around the house. It all looks festive – in tune with the season. The reds and greens and lights and bearded dolls make me smile as I walk around the house.

I see more smiles and get a sense of more joy in others at Christmas time. I like it – like it a lot. There is more giving at Christmas – Christmas presents of course – the anticipation in small children is obvious and a delight as I see them romp around the stores – parents trying to keep them in tow. There is more generosity for good causes also – the non-profits who serve us in so many good ways are thankful for this time of year. Giving benefits those who receive the outpouring of goodwill. We know giving benefits the giver also – maybe more.

I long to see family and have them around at Christmas. It is a special time for families with the gift giving and the meals together and the sharing of the joy. We’re headed to Grand Junction, CO for Christmas weekend. We have two of our children and seven of our grandchildren who live there or who are visiting that weekend. I’m really excited about being with so many of them this year. Our oldest granddaughter is cooking Christmas dinner for us all – that’s pretty special. It is a time of many changes in our family. Some of us have moved this last year – Aaron and family moved east to Vermont – Darlene and I the opposite direction to New Mexico – 3 of the grandchildren are out on their own now with jobs and their own places. Being together in the same place gets a little harder as they all grow up – at the same time maybe the times being together seem a little sweeter.

Christmas has never been a primarily religious holiday in our family. Celebration of Jesus birth is not a component of the liturgy of the churches we’ve been part of over the years. I love the idea that thoughts of so many turn to Jesus and his birth. The extra measure of joy that is felt; the willingness to give and share; the desires for peace; the warmth of feelings for others that are all a part of this time that is Christmas are representative of the life that is recorded about Jesus. Those things are all a part of what is taught and emphasized because of Jesus in the church I’m part of and in many Christian churches. Whatever one’s religion or non-religion I hope that the joy and the goodwill that I feel are both welcomed and infectious. It would be a shame if someone was put off by those good things because of me trying to shove Jesus on them as part of it all. I’m not very bashful about preaching the goodness of faith in Jesus when given the opportunity. But for me, that is not the purpose of celebrating Christmas. Christmas can be a time when all people feel the good that comes from giving. It would be gracious plenty if it can be a time of peace and goodwill towards men that is shared by all peoples just because that’s the best way for treating each other and because that’s the best way for things to be.

In mid-December as the sun drops below the horizon you can see big flocks of both geese and cranes every evening fly up the Rio Grande valley headed for their nesting places for the night. They like ponds of water for the night – they’re safe there – not many of their predators are a match for them in the water. We live far enough south that some of the migrating birds winter over here – others of them stay a little while then head farther south before their migration ends. Darkness comes early in mid-December. The year’s shortest day is in just a few days. It seems like almost mid-afternoon when I go to close the window blinds for the night.

This Sunday evening sunset picture was taken December 11. I downloaded it to the computer and then headed to evening worship service at the Belen Church of Christ.

Sunday mornings usually begin by driving a couple of miles to Rutillios for a western omelet or breakfast burrito that we share. In New Mexico both come smothered in green chile with some papitos alongside. After returning from breakfast I finish preparing for class and then we head to class and worship – class and worship – a couple of hours and a little visiting time with nice people with common interests and common goals – friends that care and look out for each other. Then after services it’s off somewhere for lunch – lunch might get smothered in green chile also – but we do take a break and get a pizza sometimes – no green chile for pizzas. Then at home afterward, maybe a little yard work, or a football game on TV, or a nap, or a walk on the golf course – or a combination of several of them. This particular Sunday afternoon it was a nap and a walk, arriving back home just in time to sit on the patio and watch this sunset and watch the flocks of birds headed for their nests.

What would you exchange for a life that allows living Sundays like this? We live in good times with much to be thankful for. Not even all the politicians and Rush Limbaugh and Rachel Maddow together can convince me that I’m somehow being cheated and should be unhappy. The geese and the cranes and most of the rest of us have a place to go at night with a safe nest. I led a prayer of thanksgiving at Sunday evening services – there were lots of good reasons for it.

Darlene bought this cactus sometime in the late 1990s – It could be 20 years old now. We lived in Palisade, CO then and it began life with us in a sunny southern window on East Orchard Mesa above the Colorado River. It flourished there and made big blooms near Christmas time each year. We moved it with us to Pagosa Springs in 2000 and it lived in 6 different homes those eight years and we took it along when we moved to South Carolina where it lived in 3 different homes, and now it sits in a west facing window in our sunroom along with my office desks and the hot tub in sunny New Mexico.

I’m calling this cactus a survivor for putting up with our moving it around all these years. It hasn’t flourished in every house we’ve lived in – it has bloomed every year, if I remember correctly, but in some of the houses only a little. At some of the houses the leaves or branches (the green part – not sure what you call it on a cactus) lose their luster and fullness. It is like it is just hanging on – getting by, but not at all happy about things. It loved the house on Fish Cove and the one on the lake in Pagosa, but not so much the others. It bloomed profusely in the little rental house in Central, SC, but the 4 years in Easley it did little more than survive. It is really liking its spot and its window here in New Mexico. In the 4 months, the branches have thickened and gotten longer and it’s turned a dark, healthy looking green. You can see it is making lots of big, pretty, pink blooms. I hope it lives another 20 years, and that it can always be in a place that it loves.

I suppose we are like the Christmas cactus in some ways. There are times and circumstances where we flourish – then there are other times we just kind of hang on. The cactus doesn’t have much choice in the matter – it must sit on the stand in the place I put it. It can’t improve its fortune by taking its own measure and by making the changes it needs to grow and prosper. We on the other hand are blessed – aren’t we? – our destiny is our own. If I’m not flourishing today, tomorrow can be lived with a change – and change can be added upon change – until I’m in just the right window on just the right stand – in just the right circumstances to make healthy, dark, green branches and beautiful, big, pink blooms.

I received this picture in an email today. They tell me a framed version is on its way in the mail. The picture was taken the last Sunday of August this year after the final worship service we would attend at the Clemson Church of Christ before moving to New Mexico. As the worship service ended they put Darlene and I in the middle at the front of the auditorium and everyone in this small congregation gathered around us and Jay stood in the back of the building with a camera and took this picture. There was a pot luck lunch downstairs in the building after the picture was taken – much was said publicly and personally in thanks for our being a part for the eight years and about missing us.

We attended services at the Clemson Church of Christ the entire eight years we lived in South Carolina. Each Sunday morning and Wednesday evening we spent time with this group. We were more than attenders – we were part of much of what went on at this congregation. In fact, if you were to go through every person in this picture you would find that most all of them were more than just attenders. The people of this congregation were so good at being a part of and participating in the good works the church took on.

I love this picture and suppose it was taken so we would have something of them to remember. I wouldn’t be able to forget with or without the picture. This group of people became family over the eight years. A bond with them exists in my heart just like the bond that exists with my physical children and grandchildren and with my brother who remains in South Carolina. We experienced much together those Sundays and Wednesday evenings – we experienced much together in the work that went on beyond the scheduled services. A common bond of faith exists in a church group that holds people together. The shared belief in a God that loves and the encouragement to share that love with each other is a force that creates and preserves relationships that are alive and that make a difference for good in the lives we live.

This picture is of family. The relationship lives on though we’ve moved far away. There remains a feeling of loyalty and of belonging and of missing them that in a certain sense saddens, but in a larger and more important sense blesses me each day of life. Thank you CCOC – we love you.

I love the holiday season. Beginning mid-November and through to New Years there is a festive spirit that takes me over, and makes it difficult to focus on work or other things that probably should be focused on.

Thanksgiving was a week ago. There is not any other holiday as good as Thanksgiving. The memories go way back – it has always been a day for family gathering together to enjoy each other as we enjoy a feast. Thanksgiving is a day steeped in our family’s tradition for me. Every year we have a turkey roasted the same way as all other years, basted with butter and garlic and stuffed with cornbread dressing made with Bell’s Seasoning and onions and garlic and celery and rosemary and a little apple and a lot of butter. There were creamed green beans with a little bacon and a few dried cranberries thrown in as they boiled. There was mashed squash – Mom always liked Hubbard squash, but they are hard to find in the West – a family at church gave me a garden grown Butternut for this Thanksgiving – it was sweet and rich and wonderful. There were creamed and buttered, boiled onions and mashed potatoes and turkey gravy. There were candied yams with emphasis on the candied. There were hot, home baked rolls. There was pies for dessert – pumpkin, and pecan with fresh whipped cream. The china Darlene’s brother gave her nearly 50 years ago comes out of the display cabinet Darlene’s father made for it and gets used. It’s a true and glorious feast worthy of a day named Thanksgiving with roots back to America’s beginnings.

Jessica and Joe and Noah joined us this year, driving down from Pagosa Springs. It was good to be together – was the first time eating Thanksgiving with them since 2008. We thought about and talked about the rest of the family who for various reasons couldn’t join us – there was some phone calls and a Skype with Aaron, Christine and Aria in Vermont before the weekend was over. It’s a family time that cheers and warms the heart.

Being blessed as we are and being thankful brings with it responsibility. There is purpose in being blessed that reaches out beyond self. The holidays are the best of times to consider others – others not limited by borders or their ethnicity or race or even religion. God rains down his blessings on the just and unjust alike and His means of blessing others includes our caring and being benevolent. I suppose there is a valid concept of measuring worthy in terms of making decisions about sharing with the needy. But a kind and gracious heart is a great virtue, and judging worthiness can be an endeavor that comes back around to haunt. Jesus said it this way, “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you.” Thanksgiving – it’s a wonderful holiday – it’s a wonderful attitude for all days – it’s a way of looking at things that helps make the world a nice place to live.

I understand I spend too much time looking at the sky, but tonight’s sunset must be shared J.

Today is birthday number 69. A friend posted on Facebook, “…the Big One is coming next year. Better get all the cake and ice cream while you can.” It’s good to think of aging in a light-hearted way. Lots of things change as one gets older – some for the good – a few present unwelcome challenges.

My grandchildren sent a box of Enstrom’s Toffee, a coffee mug and a little sign that reads, “Grandma and Grandpa’s Place – Memories Made Here”. It made me cry – maybe that’s the best part of a birthday – having friends and family remember you. For those of you who read this and don’t know Enstrom’s Toffee – it’s absolutely the best candy in the world – hands down – nothing else is even close – can eat a pound at one sitting – hide it from Darlene – it could be an addiction with the mail person delivering it from Grand Junction, CO regularly if it weren’t so expensive.

Sixty-nine years of growing to adulthood, of school, of careers, marriage, children, grand-children, church, friends, vacations, moving from place to place, the joys, the heartaches, the adventures, the ho-hum – the sum-total of it all has in the measure of time flown by. Looking back over all those years amazes with how short the time really is. Much of the time was well spent – some of it, not-so-much. The regrets scattered over the past are easy to list, but not helpful to dwell on – they serve to help some with wisdom and experience – in all other respects it is best to look forward from them.

The picture is of me taken on my birthday at my desk at home where I work on a semi-retired basis for Drake Curry – a nice man who has put up with me for the last eight years. He continues to put up with me even though I asked to move 1,600 miles away and work from a home office. I’m blessed by him putting up with me. Work life is good on my 69^th birthday.

On a birthday at my age there are a lot more yesterdays than there will be tomorrows. Memories are forever precious, and are a part of us we wouldn’t give up – reflections on the past are much of what defines the present. But, for me, there is no desire to be young again and live any of those years over. Each year so far has been better in important ways than the last one. There is peace and contentment and a certainty of hope that grows each year. The value measured in those types of things has been far greater than the loss of physical abilities that take their toll each year. There is purpose to each person’s life that sharpens in focus with each passing year. There are actions to live out in each day that matter, and there is good that accumulates over a lifetime which makes the world a better place. Maybe the measure taken of that good shows that it is small – but lots of people doing a small amount of good makes a difference. So, for those tomorrows that are left there will be a looking forward – looking to accomplish a little good with a romantic’s faith that good matters, and that it will win out over all else in the end.

you’re right – I’ve been spending too much time looking at the sky since moving to New Mexico. Normally it’s the evening sky that draws attention. The back patio looks out on a far-off horizon to the west – ideal for sunsets. Looking east from the townhouse other homes are in the way and a clear look at the sunrise horizon is a little bit of a walk. But Sunday morning just at sunrise the clouds in the western sky turned orange as the sun was ready to rise in the east. This is what I saw:

It’s amazing, isn’t it. The view is to the southwest – away from the rising sun to the southeast. I quickly walked out to the front of the house and took a picture of the sky towards the sunrise above the townhomes across the street, and then walked a ways to an open space and took one of the sunrise horizon.

The sun rose just a few minutes later and all of the color faded in the brighter light. Dawn is a special time – I’m always up in the dark before dawn checking friends facebook posts and reading and sometimes writing. A lot happens in the mornings that is too good to miss – focus comes easily – the mind is fresh and anxious to consider a new or peculiar thought. Dawn is a word used often as a metaphor to describe an awakening of a new era or an exciting event. It’s appropriate to use it in that way and this Sunday morning dawn is the perfect example of why.

It dawned a beautiful mid-November Saturday in the New Mexico high desert. Darlene’s shingles continue to wear her down quite a bit, but she was up for a day trip somewhere. We’ve seen much of New Mexico starting with a few trips in the 1990s from Grand Junction and then during the Pagosa Springs years we were constant visitors – mostly to the northern part of the state – Albuquerque, Santa Fe and Taos – but there were also excursions to Silver City and Las Cruces and other places. One place we’d never been was Ruidoso. It is about 150 miles from home in Belen. So we headed south on the interstate this Saturday, stopping for a breakfast burrito at Sophia’s in Socorro, and then headed southeast on a two-lane the 90 or so remaining miles up into the mountains of this southern range to Ruidoso.

Many think of New Mexico as being only flat and desert-like. There is a lot of that in the state, but mountains are also a significant part of the topography. The drive east from the interstate just south of Socorro starts by crossing the Rio Grande river and then crossing the desert with its mixture of dried out grasses and sage brush and yuccas and small cactus. It then rises through foothills of cedars and junipers. The road heads east across to Roswell eventually, but we take a turn on to Highway 37 in the foothills and immediately start a winding road climb up into the mountains and the landscape soon changes to pine trees, steep canyons, and mountain peaks. Ruidoso sits at an elevation of about 7,000 ft. Its main industry is tourism. There is a ski resort just a few miles from town on 12,000-foot Sierra Blanca Peak. A horse racing venue, Ruidoso Downs is well known and draws visitors and includes a race which is part of the quarter horse triple crown. The Spring, Summer and Fall seasons bring tourists from Texas and Oklahoma looking for an escape from the heat to the mountains.

The Mescalero Apache Indians roamed the area in the 1800s and Sierra Blanca Peak had spiritual significance to them. Settlers first arrived in the mid-1800s, but the town remained small and unknown until the automobile developed and roads were constructed to the area in the 1930s. The 2010 census places the permanent population at just over 8,000, although the town supports commerce for about 20,000 when the population of nearby towns are included.

We shopped a little – scored a great buy on 4 pots for the patio at a neat store called Casa Décor. Lunch was a pretty good burger at Anaheim Jacks, a local bar and grill. We headed home mid-afternoon and arrived about dusk.

The landscape of the West is wonderfully diverse. The meager rainfall on the high desert challenges all the wildlife that call it home and yet it supports more kinds of life than we can imagine. The foothills are home to mule deer, antelope, coyote, rabbits, chukars and even pass through elk. Those of us who have hunted the Western foothills know how a mule deer can sneak around you in the cedars, pinyons and junipers without you even suspecting its presence. The alpine peaks of the Rocky Mountains just seem to spring up out of the high desert and foothills as an oasis from the parched landscape. The contrasting beauty of the pines, cascading creeks and rocky cliffs always gives a sense of awe. The western skies with their far-off horizons and three dimensional clouds and the depths of the blues extending into the heavens leave me with a certain faith that in the vastness, all of creation is held in its proper place – that all the pieces fit together – that all the elements have a purpose in relation to each other – and that even you and I exist for a reason.

I love road trips – sometimes they lead to the familiar, returning out of desire to experience something that pleases – other times like this last Saturday we traveled a new road – a ribbon with each new mile revealing something not seen before – with a destination to begin an experience with – a destination that from time to time will call out for a return. Each small adventure blesses.