I used to sit at the kitchen table with my grandparents and watch birds. I never fully appreciated the simple looking Robbins, or the finches, even the flickers. My favorite were always the blue birds that showed up with the really warm weather. Along with western tanningers, they still may be my favorite. However, I have a new found appreciation for the other more simple looking song birds that leave the north for the winter.
Now days I find my spirit lifted to see so many birds returning to the once barren north. For the last few long months, the only birds that have known the cold are the magpies and the ravens, and a few small chickadees that tough it out.
Every day I see more and more Robbins along with all sorts of waterfowl returning to the northern regions. I actually smiled when I saw sandhill cranes awkwardly cruising the hay fields for a bite to eat.
These birds tell me to rejoice that the winter is over, finally. There will be storms, but they will pass and soon enough the tanningers and the bluebirds of the summer will be here too.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Sunrise
Here I go again. Rubber side down on my way out of this big sprawling urban mess, moving on yet again.
I look in the rear view at the stranger with red eyes and stubbled jaw. I barely recognize myself after the weekend events. I smile back at the reflection and wink.
The yellow stripes fly by with the beat of the music. I tap my fingers on the top of my steering wheel and drink my coffee.
Glimpses of the last night with her flash through my mind. I push my hat brim back on my forehead as I look again to see my broad face in the mirror. I have to laugh a little and smile a demon smile. I can't remember the last time I felt that high.
The calm darkness is interrupted with threads of sunlight that stab from the east with a steady forcefulness that never needs to ask for permission. A dim creeping light approaches the sprawling valley and all those who still sleep.
I think back to her again, laughing and smiling at me. I can hardly wait for the next time around.
A few long days on the fence line will see me back to her with some more money to burn. More memories to pull from the flames.
The tip of the sun greets me without words, the pink mountains meet me with a cool morning breeze. Five days and I'll be headed back, wild as the weather.
I look in the rear view at the stranger with red eyes and stubbled jaw. I barely recognize myself after the weekend events. I smile back at the reflection and wink.
The yellow stripes fly by with the beat of the music. I tap my fingers on the top of my steering wheel and drink my coffee.
Glimpses of the last night with her flash through my mind. I push my hat brim back on my forehead as I look again to see my broad face in the mirror. I have to laugh a little and smile a demon smile. I can't remember the last time I felt that high.
The calm darkness is interrupted with threads of sunlight that stab from the east with a steady forcefulness that never needs to ask for permission. A dim creeping light approaches the sprawling valley and all those who still sleep.
I think back to her again, laughing and smiling at me. I can hardly wait for the next time around.
A few long days on the fence line will see me back to her with some more money to burn. More memories to pull from the flames.
The tip of the sun greets me without words, the pink mountains meet me with a cool morning breeze. Five days and I'll be headed back, wild as the weather.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
When it's easy.
Sometimes I miss the days when I was in College, working at Shadow Valley Golf Course. Listening to my headphones as I concentrated on mowing perfect straight lines on the greens. Not thinking too much about the job at hand, but about anything and everything that came into my mind. It was simple work, mow, dig, rake, repeat.
I had jobs that were fairly easy, all it took was work to get them done. A little sweat, a little hustle, and very little mentally. That is easy work, work you can do by yourself. Sometimes there is nothing better.
Work that requires physical strenght beyond your means is hard. Work that requires mental ability beyond your means is harder. Anything that requires more than you have is hard, it's hard because you can't do it alone. Not just because you have to use a tool to help you, but mostly because you have to depend on someone else.
Things we can do on our own are easy, even if they aren't simple. When the situation brings in someone else it becomes hard.
It seems the more we need someone else's help, the more fragile we are. We become dependent on others, and so we become handicapped. That's when things get hard. Especially when you have a business and employees that depend on you.
They depend on you to provide for them and you can't do it alone, you are handicapped by other people.
I pray for the people in this postion. They are the ones who feel the brunt of true labor.
Not the people who run the shovels, or drive the trucks, stock the shelves, or clean up the mess. The people who do the work deserve a lot of credit, but the people who find the work for others to do deserve more credit. They take the real risks, and feel the real pressure.
I think too many people forget these things. It is part of the American entitlement mentality.
I had jobs that were fairly easy, all it took was work to get them done. A little sweat, a little hustle, and very little mentally. That is easy work, work you can do by yourself. Sometimes there is nothing better.
Work that requires physical strenght beyond your means is hard. Work that requires mental ability beyond your means is harder. Anything that requires more than you have is hard, it's hard because you can't do it alone. Not just because you have to use a tool to help you, but mostly because you have to depend on someone else.
Things we can do on our own are easy, even if they aren't simple. When the situation brings in someone else it becomes hard.
It seems the more we need someone else's help, the more fragile we are. We become dependent on others, and so we become handicapped. That's when things get hard. Especially when you have a business and employees that depend on you.
They depend on you to provide for them and you can't do it alone, you are handicapped by other people.
I pray for the people in this postion. They are the ones who feel the brunt of true labor.
Not the people who run the shovels, or drive the trucks, stock the shelves, or clean up the mess. The people who do the work deserve a lot of credit, but the people who find the work for others to do deserve more credit. They take the real risks, and feel the real pressure.
I think too many people forget these things. It is part of the American entitlement mentality.
Friday, March 11, 2011
Spring????
I'm not sure if spring is finally coming or not... It feels familiar, but I don't trust Montana weather. I have been fooled many times before.
The sun is shining and the snow is melting, thanks to the high winds. Those are all familiar signs.
Perhaps the most telling one is the mud. Spring in our part of the country means mud. Mud everywhere. On your shoes to your shirt sleeves. On the inside and outside of your vehicle, and your house. It shows up on your floors, and sometimes even your furniture.
The thawing ground goes from hard as concrete, to slimy, sticky, sloppy mud.
I have decided I like mud in spite of the mess. Not because of the mud, of course, but because of what follows after the mud...
Warm weather, green grass, bright sun, and life on all fronts.
Bring on the mud.
The sun is shining and the snow is melting, thanks to the high winds. Those are all familiar signs.
Perhaps the most telling one is the mud. Spring in our part of the country means mud. Mud everywhere. On your shoes to your shirt sleeves. On the inside and outside of your vehicle, and your house. It shows up on your floors, and sometimes even your furniture.
The thawing ground goes from hard as concrete, to slimy, sticky, sloppy mud.
I have decided I like mud in spite of the mess. Not because of the mud, of course, but because of what follows after the mud...
Warm weather, green grass, bright sun, and life on all fronts.
Bring on the mud.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
The walking contradiction.
Imagine a person wearing designer clothing, from their shoes to their false fur lined coat, fake fur hat and sunglasses. It most likely is a woman, but today could also easily include a man.
Imagine them telling all their friends that the fur isn't real, because they oppose the cruel treatment of animals.
In one hand they have an expensive cup of coffee, with a plastic lid and paper cup made of "mostly recycled" material.
They also tell their friends how awesome and rewarding it is to live green, and how their energy bill has gone down with the new fluorescent light bulbs. A friend complements their beautiful diamond earings (still could be a man.)
In the other hand they have a giant paper sign written with paint that opposes drilling for oil. It could also say something about "protecting" animals, domestic or wild. It could also say something about stopping logging, using pesticides and fertilizers, or mining around the world.
After the rally their friends ask them if they want to grab a bite to eat across town at the new restaraunt, which apparently serves an awesome soy burger.
While they eat they tell all their friends about their new hybred car that is lighter and gets amazing gas mileage. When they finish the meal they pull out their desinger purse or wallet, and pay with their visa...
Most people probably wouldn't see the irony of this situation, especailly those involved. I have actually seen, and spoken to these kinds of people so I know they are real.
Most of the products of these people's everyday lives are extreemly reliant on the oil industry. It takes oil to make plastics, from the lid of their coffee cup to their designer sunglasses, or their visa card, car parts and paint on their signs. It takes oil to create energy to run machinery in the factories that make their products. It takes oil to clear timber, not only for their coffee cup and the sign they use, but to make room for the soy beans being grown in Brazil. Without pesticides and fertilizers, farmers would not be able to feed a tenth of the world's population. It takes oil for factory workers to get to their jobs. It takes oil to create synthetic fur. The alloys of their car, and diamonds in their ears are mined. The sewing machines used to make thier designer clothes are made of metals, and plastics. Their new "green" light bulbs are made of the same materials, which also contain mercury. The new restaraunt was built with steel, drywall, and lumber, and wired and plumbed with plastics and metals.
The "mistreatment of animals" that they oppose makes it possible and affordable, to feed and clothe most of our population. It also provides leather, and down for their clothes. I don't agree with all of the practices in place, but I care more about human life than I do about a chicken. That is reality.
Then, there are those whom would rather have synthetic clothes made from petroleum, than see an animal harvested for its skin.
Not only is this lifestyle philosophically rediculus, it is rediculusly espensive.
In truth these are the kinds of people who may depend the most on the Oil, Mining, Farming, and Logging industrys. They have become so full of their own sh#t that it clouds their minds and spews out of their mouths.
After their meal, they make plans for next weeks rally for higher taxes so they can fund more social programs and ease the burdens on the lower class. They pull out their smart phones to save the date in their calander.
Imagine them telling all their friends that the fur isn't real, because they oppose the cruel treatment of animals.
In one hand they have an expensive cup of coffee, with a plastic lid and paper cup made of "mostly recycled" material.
They also tell their friends how awesome and rewarding it is to live green, and how their energy bill has gone down with the new fluorescent light bulbs. A friend complements their beautiful diamond earings (still could be a man.)
In the other hand they have a giant paper sign written with paint that opposes drilling for oil. It could also say something about "protecting" animals, domestic or wild. It could also say something about stopping logging, using pesticides and fertilizers, or mining around the world.
After the rally their friends ask them if they want to grab a bite to eat across town at the new restaraunt, which apparently serves an awesome soy burger.
While they eat they tell all their friends about their new hybred car that is lighter and gets amazing gas mileage. When they finish the meal they pull out their desinger purse or wallet, and pay with their visa...
Most people probably wouldn't see the irony of this situation, especailly those involved. I have actually seen, and spoken to these kinds of people so I know they are real.
Most of the products of these people's everyday lives are extreemly reliant on the oil industry. It takes oil to make plastics, from the lid of their coffee cup to their designer sunglasses, or their visa card, car parts and paint on their signs. It takes oil to create energy to run machinery in the factories that make their products. It takes oil to clear timber, not only for their coffee cup and the sign they use, but to make room for the soy beans being grown in Brazil. Without pesticides and fertilizers, farmers would not be able to feed a tenth of the world's population. It takes oil for factory workers to get to their jobs. It takes oil to create synthetic fur. The alloys of their car, and diamonds in their ears are mined. The sewing machines used to make thier designer clothes are made of metals, and plastics. Their new "green" light bulbs are made of the same materials, which also contain mercury. The new restaraunt was built with steel, drywall, and lumber, and wired and plumbed with plastics and metals.
The "mistreatment of animals" that they oppose makes it possible and affordable, to feed and clothe most of our population. It also provides leather, and down for their clothes. I don't agree with all of the practices in place, but I care more about human life than I do about a chicken. That is reality.
Then, there are those whom would rather have synthetic clothes made from petroleum, than see an animal harvested for its skin.
Not only is this lifestyle philosophically rediculus, it is rediculusly espensive.
In truth these are the kinds of people who may depend the most on the Oil, Mining, Farming, and Logging industrys. They have become so full of their own sh#t that it clouds their minds and spews out of their mouths.
After their meal, they make plans for next weeks rally for higher taxes so they can fund more social programs and ease the burdens on the lower class. They pull out their smart phones to save the date in their calander.
Monday, March 7, 2011
tipping over the point
I am a fraid of where we are headed.
People learn politics from cartoons and mtv.
People care more about celebrities than they care about our soldiers over seas.
Nothing is sacred anymore on television, programs can swear and talk about sex with no reservations.
People give more money to organizations to feed animals than they do to feed hungry people.
People have forgotten where our food comes from and how we get it.
There are laws written every year to protect us from ourselves.
There are three kinds of murder instead of just murder.
The government can tell a building owner that no one is allowed to smoke in their building.
Lawyers can sue with no fear of losing, because in the U.S. the loser doesn't have to pay like they would in most other countries.
Most people think they deserve a job.
Most people think they also deserve a car and a house.
You can be sued for defending yourself.
Kids are taught to not fight back, because they must have done something to provoke an attack in the first place.
We are a society of victims.
I think we may be over the tipping point. This is not what America is supposed to be. We are ruled by the media and materialism.
Complaining has never solved any problems. I am trying to do something about it. If you want to do something about it, get involved in the lives of young men and women. Set a good example and be a mentor. Teach values and real life skills. Teach a kid to catch a fish and eat it. Teach a kid to work hard for something that they want. Teach a kid the importance of helping others and conecting in a personal way. Otherwise go back to watching Charlie Sheen.
People learn politics from cartoons and mtv.
People care more about celebrities than they care about our soldiers over seas.
Nothing is sacred anymore on television, programs can swear and talk about sex with no reservations.
People give more money to organizations to feed animals than they do to feed hungry people.
People have forgotten where our food comes from and how we get it.
There are laws written every year to protect us from ourselves.
There are three kinds of murder instead of just murder.
The government can tell a building owner that no one is allowed to smoke in their building.
Lawyers can sue with no fear of losing, because in the U.S. the loser doesn't have to pay like they would in most other countries.
Most people think they deserve a job.
Most people think they also deserve a car and a house.
You can be sued for defending yourself.
Kids are taught to not fight back, because they must have done something to provoke an attack in the first place.
We are a society of victims.
I think we may be over the tipping point. This is not what America is supposed to be. We are ruled by the media and materialism.
Complaining has never solved any problems. I am trying to do something about it. If you want to do something about it, get involved in the lives of young men and women. Set a good example and be a mentor. Teach values and real life skills. Teach a kid to catch a fish and eat it. Teach a kid to work hard for something that they want. Teach a kid the importance of helping others and conecting in a personal way. Otherwise go back to watching Charlie Sheen.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
King
Sometimes I like to go back in my mind. Back to late summer nights with my brothers, playing wiffle ball in the backyard or fishing down at the creek. We were legends in the making, great stars on the rise. Kings for the moment.
Sometimes I think about a girl from my past. Some I knew, and others I never got to know. I remember brief passing smiles, or a look from bright vibrant eyes that made my pulse quicken and my palms sweat. Half terrified. King for that moment.
Sometimes I am on the back patio with my best friends in college. Exploring the finer points of youth and freedom next to the fire. Living life without consequences, rouges on the verge of greatness. Kings for the moment.
Sometimes I am back on some lost highway by myself, watching the sunset paint the landscape as I pass on through like a tumbleweed. All I needed was some fuel money and good music. King for the moment.
Sometimes I am with Lena, high on the contenental divide engulfed in a moment forever shared only between the two of us. King for the moment.
My mind drifts through good times like a fallen leaf. Our lives cut through stone like the wind and the rain, shaping them with our memories. The wind moves along out of sight and out of mind, but memories remain. We can always go back for a moment, when we were highest. King of the moment.
Sometimes I think about a girl from my past. Some I knew, and others I never got to know. I remember brief passing smiles, or a look from bright vibrant eyes that made my pulse quicken and my palms sweat. Half terrified. King for that moment.
Sometimes I am on the back patio with my best friends in college. Exploring the finer points of youth and freedom next to the fire. Living life without consequences, rouges on the verge of greatness. Kings for the moment.
Sometimes I am back on some lost highway by myself, watching the sunset paint the landscape as I pass on through like a tumbleweed. All I needed was some fuel money and good music. King for the moment.
Sometimes I am with Lena, high on the contenental divide engulfed in a moment forever shared only between the two of us. King for the moment.
My mind drifts through good times like a fallen leaf. Our lives cut through stone like the wind and the rain, shaping them with our memories. The wind moves along out of sight and out of mind, but memories remain. We can always go back for a moment, when we were highest. King of the moment.
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