Journeys of the Heart

Behold I Bring You Good Tidings

"For behold I bring you good tidings of great joy that will come to all people!"

 

Over a half of a century ago, I was in elementary school in a small town in Oklahoma. This was a time before the separation of church and state mattered to anyone. At least anyone I knew. In school, we said the Pledge of Allegiance each morning along with a reading of a Bible verse and a prayer.

 

Each Christmas, the music teacher put on a pageant for the whole school. She was a tall, thin red head who was always armed with a ping pong paddle. Very few students challenged her authority. And each Christmas season,under her firm direction, that old story was told again with its Mary and Joseph, its shepherds and wise men, and a choir of angels all around.

 

I was always an angel in the choir. One year I was one of 4 angels who got to stand on a wood plank laid across two saw horses that raised us above the stable. That was my most memorable role in the pageant - singing while standing on a wood plank. In another year, one of my brothers got to play a shepherd and was able to parade in with all of the other boys who I suspect couldn't sing either. Hence their selection as shepherds.

 

The angel that told the shepherd of "the good tidings" was always played by the tallest, smartest and prettiest girl in the school. She had long, dark hair and had the only lines in the play. And she could memorize her lines with little problem. She was the star of the pageant - even more important than Mary who never said a word.

 

And she was Jewish. In fact, she was one of probably 3 Jewish kids in the school. But she played the angel and everyone knew that the reason was because she was the tallest, smartest and prettiest girl in the school. And no one objected. And her parents with all of the other parents came every year to watch her proclaim the tidings of great joy that has come to all people.

 

And after all of these years, she is still Jewish and we are still Christians.  Perhaps there was a time when Rumi's experience was ours too:

 "I go into the Muslim mosque and the Jewish synagogue and the Christian church and I see one altar." (The Essential Rumi p.246)

 

Posted with Blogsy

Polar Bears - Churchill, Manitoba 2010

    One thousand miles north of Oklahoma City, Oklahoma (as the crow flies) lies Winnipeg, Manitoba.  A two hour flight north from there (as a jet flies) lies Churchill, a small Canadian community that lies on the Hudson Bay.  No roads lead to Churchill.  It can only be reached by railway from Winnipeg or by air.

    Churchill was once a military post for Canadian and American servicemen. American soldiers must have thought they had been banished to the edge of Dante's frozen hell when they arrived in this barren wilderness.  In the winter, the world looks like desolate miles of flat, snow white tundra where the Arctic winds strip bare one side of all of the trees with icy gusts that blow from the north.   
    

    But that is merely appearances. Actually, there is life in the tundra.  Amazing life.  If the servicemen were patient, I imagine they occasionally noticed a mound through the blowing white snow, and if enough time passed, they would witness the small head of a bear peaking above a sleeping mother.  This was our experience on our first day on the tundra along the shores of the Hudson Bay.

    We were greeted by snow and winds of up to 60 mph on the tundra outside of Churchill.  (One of the airlines flying out of Winnipeg was named "Calm Air" which I hoped for to no avail).  I wondered for a time what I had gotten myself into.  But as we rode across the tundra, I forgot my apprehension when we came across a mother and her cubs. 
We watched them for a time and my concerns about the harshness of the environment abated somewhat.  We moved on to our "Tundra Lodge" which didn't look accomodating at first but later proved to be a warm haven against the arctic winds.   

  The Lodge had five "cars" similar to old passenger cars of trains but unlike the trains of old, these cars had wheels.  There were two cars for sleeping, one car for dining, one for cooking, and one for meetings and relaxing.  The Lodge is rolled out onto the Tundra in the fall when the polar bears begin to gather on the Hudson bay shores to wait for the bay to freeze over.  It is rolled back into Churchill in November when the bears have left to go out on the ice to hunt for seal.  Hopefully no signs of human presence are left behind.   

The last two cars in the Lodge are sleeping cars.  I was assigned a room in the last car which had one bathroom that was shared with 16 people.  The other sleeping car had two commodes and one shower.  All of the cabins are single bunk rooms.  Ladders allow access to the top bunk, and suitcases and clothes are left below the bed.  Heat is in the hallway.  On the first night we were there, the Lodge rocked in the 42 mph winds with gusts even higher.   Although the accommodations were not the Hilton, they were manageable. The trip attracted a diverse group of people.  In our group were retired teachers, lawyers,  physicians, speech therapists and two professionals from the National Geographic.  Most were from the United States although three had come from near Cambridge, England. 

    Travel across the Tundra was accomplished in a "Rover."   Half of the group went in search of bears in the morning and the other half went in the afternoons.  There were always bears to watch.

    The first day we were on the Rover, we were in near white-out conditions with the wind still blowing up to 60 mph.  But any disappointment with the weather vanished when we ran across a bear sleeping on the edge of a frozen pond.  He was wholly unimpressed with our presence and after we oohed and aahed for several minutes, he raised his head, yawned, got up for a few seconds, changed positions and laid back down to resume his nap.

 

He really didn't care that a group of human beings were so enchanted and excited about his presence.  

Before the bears leave this area and go out on the ice, they will spar with each other.  This looks playful and is wonderful to watch.  Our guides explained that what the males are actually doing is sizing up each other to check out the competition that will exist for females out on the ice. (Female bears conceive their cubs out on the ice and will hopefully feed on enough seals to return to land and have their cubs.  If the females fail to gain enough weight to bear the cubs, they will wait until the next year's hunt.  If they have gained enough weight the next year, they will have their cubs when they return to land.  If they haven't gained enough weight, they will abort the embryos). But regardless of the motives for sparring, it is a wonder to see.

   

More than once, a male will approach another and just like children, one (usually the younger, smaller bear) will without warning push the larger bear in his chest.  With that, the sparring is on!  And the wrestling will continue until one of the fighters get overheated.  A "big flop" ensues as an overheated bear tumbles to the cold ground and stretches out to cool himself on the snow.  Oftentimes, they will sleep, only to arouse themselves later and start the sparring again.

Bears are curious animals.  Everyday a water truck made deliveries of fresh water for our lodge.  On one afternoon, a curious bear delayed delivery while another bear played "hide and seek" with a rover full of photographers.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Although it is easy to forget that these creatures are wild animals, no one stepped foot on the tundra the entire time we were there, including the staff on the tour.  We ate, drank, and slept on the lodge and rovers.





   
 

    

 

 

When the sun is out, the north turns from a world of gray and white into a vibrant world alive with blues, browns, aqua and red.  Male bears could be easily seen that day - walking solitary across the large icy ponds.  

The male bears are solitary creatures. This is in stark contrast to the mama bears who have the job of corraling their cubs and guarding them. And just like the children of humans, the cubs have a way of always being underfoot. 

The lodge was surrounded by bears who must have been enticed by the smells from the kitchen to investigate.  The windows had no screens and we took advantage!

 

 

 

 

 

 

We saw other creatures, including winter ptarmigans and an artic fox.

 

 

 

But the bears were the stars of the show.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I don't have a clue about "climate warming" or "climate change."  Nor do I know anything about causes.  I do know that change is a part of this life's existence.  But I hope that these animals will always have a home on earth.  Their presence is a wonder to behold - -  

Return to the Maasai in 2011

    In 2011, Kay and I were able to return to the Maasai village that was situated near the Ngorogoro crater in Tanzania.  (We had returned to Tanzania on another photo safari).  Although there had been no guarantees of visiting the same village, we were delighted that circumstances allowed us to visit once again.

    Saint Benedict instructed his monks to "listen carefully . . . with the ear of your heart."  I think that when we are able to do this, we can hear and feel the seam that binds the human mosaic together, and it becomes evident that we are not unique and that we truly are brothers and sisters.  I experienced this truth once again in the village.

    Kay had given a Maasai woman a silver ring in 2009.  When we arrived at the village, I recognized her son, and Kay introduced herself, told him of our previous visit, and asked of his mother.  He told her that she was visiting another village but would send for her and perhaps she would arrive before our tour departed.  

    After some time, she was seen walking toward us.  Although she had aged, her face showed that kindness, humility and joy that was evident to us two years ago.  

Kay had a neck-lace that she gave to her Maasai "sister" on this visit.  Because the Maasai wear beautiful beaded necklaces, she put Kay's necklace over her head with the silver locket at the top.  Through her son who spoke English, she asked if Kay had any children and ushered her back into the village where she gave her gifts of bracelets and a porcupine quill.  She wished Kay a long life and Kay wished her a life full of blessings.

    The belief that each of us is "unique" is fundamentally an illusion, I believe.  Although the Maasai live in a wholly different culture and land, although they live in huts made of cow dung and hold beliefs that seem primitive to twenty-first century Americans, and although the everyday life of Maasai women constitutes hard, physical labor, there's a connection that can be realized when that language of the heart is recognized and spoken. That language can reach across race, culture, class, religion, politics, and it is shared by all humanity.  But to hear it, one must listen with the ear of the heart.  And I learned that lesson from a Maasai woman who lives in a village close to the Ngorogoro Crater in Tanzania.

 

This is from GOD CALLING, a little meditation book I read daily - - HAPPY NEW YEAR to all - -

January 1 - Between the Years

Our Lord and our God. We joy in Thee. Without Thy Help we could not face unafraid the year before us.

"I stand between the years. The Light of My Presence is flung across the year to come - the radiance of the Sun of Righteousness. Backward, over the past year, is My Shadow thrown, hiding trouble and sorrow and disappointment.

Dwell not on the past - only on the present. Only use the past as the trees use My Sunlight to absorb it, to make from it the warming fire-rays. So store only the blessings from Me, the Light of the World. Encourage yourselves by the thought of these.

Bury every fear of the future, of poverty for those dear to you, of suffering, of loss. Bury all thought of unkindness and bitterness, all your dislikes, your resentments, your sense of failure, your disappointment in others and in yourselves, your gloom, your despondency, and let us leave them all, buried, and go forward to a new and risen life.

Remember that you must not see as the world sees. I hold the year in My Hands - in trust for you. But I shall guide you one day at a time.

Leave the rest with Me. You must not anticipate the gift by fears or thoughts of the days ahead.And for each day I shall supply the wisdom and the strength."

I am the light of the world; he that followeth me shall not walk
in darkness, but shall have the light of life. John 8:12

Tanzania - 2009 (cont)

The Maasai tribe inhabits the highlands of Tanzania near the Ngorongoro Crater.   They are semi-nomadic herders of cattle and goats and live as they have lived for centuries.  We were able to visit one of their villages. 
The tribe's traditional dress is robing made of red cloth but they have expanded to purple and blues.  Felician told us that the color red allowed the Maasai to tell whether or not a figure in the distance was a tribal member.  They are known as fearless warriors, and when they settled in the highlands of Tanzania where there is good grass for their herds of cattle, they ran all of the other tribes out of the area including Felician's Iraqw tribe.  Although Felician insisted that there were no hard feelings between his tribe and the Maasai, he definitely remembered that tribal history!

The Maasai live in circular huts made of acacia wood (which provides the frames for the homes), and a mixture of grasses, mud and cow dung.  The huts are small. In the center of the hut is a small fire which gives heat to the home and is used for cooking.  Two small, slender slits in the walls on opposite sides of the hut are the only "windows" in the homes. They are approximately 4 inches tall and 1 inch wide  and can be used not only to allow smoke to be released into the open but to check on animals wandering through the village at night. The families sleep on cow hide laid atop the dirt floor with boys/men on one side and girls/women on the other.
 
The Maasai are polygamist and men can have up to 3 wives.  Each wife has her own hut and when the husband visits a hut for the night, he stakes his spear in front of the hut near the entrance to give notice that he is there.  Males are known as fearless warriors, and Felician said that even animals know that the color "red" from their clothing indicates danger.  While we were camping on the rim of the crater, a Maasai warrior was hired to keep the cape buffaloes out of the camp at night. (We were camped near a buffalo trail that led to a watering hole).  We loved his shoes!

 The rite of passage to adulthood for males is to be circumcised between the ages of 9 and 12 without the benefit of anesthesia.  Every three years, the ears of men are pierced  with thorns and those young males without pierced ears were in schools (as required by the government) at the time of the community piercing. 

Males carry clubs to protect themselves and others from wild animals.  When they become "elders" of the tribe, the women decorate the clubs with beautiful bead work.  The men are responsible for herding the cattle which is a source of food (the Maasai cut a cow's neck every morning and drink a mixture of its blood and milk) and a measure of a man's wealth.  The Maasai believe they are the true owners of all cattle (much to the chagrin of other tribes, I am sure), and at night, they enclose their cattle and sheep in the fencing surrounding their community.

Woman do all of the cooking, the building of the huts, the bead work, and making of crafts for sale.  They wear large beaded necklaces which they are able to bounce to the rhythm of chanting when they dance.  The girls and women also have pierced ears.

During our visit, the Maasai chose some of our group to join them in dancing.  Their dancing to me appears to be jumping while chanting.  One of the older women appeared to be the "leader" among the women. She was a gracious hostess and seemed to be a woman of contentment and kindness.  She picked Cindy and Kay to dance with her.
She also gave Kay and Cindy a necklace to wear while dancing.  Before leaving the village, Kay gave her one of her own rings, which was made of shiny silver.  The woman was noticeably moved by the unexpected gift, clasped Kay's hands palm to palm as if in prayer, and enclosed them in hers.  Although neither Kay nor she could converse in spoken words, each shared the language of the heart and understood each other completely.

The men also dance in a circle and while chanting, jump straight up.  They would have no trouble getting rebounds in the NBA.  Jerry was chosen to dance with them.
They are handsome men.

Those young men who had gone to school could speak a little English, and they welcomed us as guests into their huts.  The young man who was with my group had gone to school until he was in the 7th grade when students must begin paying for their own education.  Although he had a sponsor for a year or so, his sponsorship had ended and his father insisted he return to the village.  He had obeyed because his father told him to come home.  It was that simple.  He would not have disobeyed his father although there was an obvious longing in his voice to return to school.   This is a picture of the young guide with his mother who was Kay's new found friend and leader of the women.  His ears were not pierced indicating that he was in school when the community piercing occurred.

In the picture with me, I am holding a beaded club that was made by his mother.  The colors are those of the Tanzania flag.

At the end of our visit, we visited the village school where the children appeared to be younger than 6 or 7. 

They were learning English and were able to sing the ABC song that I sang as a child as well as show us some words that they knew in English.  Lynne had brought some stickers from the States and had given them to the teacher who had handed them out.  You can see the handiwork with the stickers in the picture. Their teacher hardly said a word while we were there. 

The visit to the Maasai village was an incredible experience and I think often of the community and its people.  I wonder what the future holds for them and all of Africa with its boundless resources, its boundless poverty, and its boundless social problems.  I also think of all of the gifts I have been given by merely an accident of birth into the family I have, my birth into a society that values education, and my birth into a country that offers freedoms and prosperity.  I came away from Africa this time like I did when I was in South Africa: with a renewed determination to be a better steward of the gifts given to me and to remember . . . to remember. . . .

My Dad's 91st Birthday

Yesterday was my dad's 91st Birthday!!!!  I wish that I had just a bit of his wisdom, knowledge, generous nature, and compassionate heart!
(He also taught me to play golf!!!!!  What else can a daughter hope for?)

Tanzania - 2009

   Come now and look upon the works of the LORD, *
    what awesome things he has done on earth.  - Psalm 46 (BCP)

 

In January, 2009 - I went to Tanzania on a photo safari and flew to Arusha which lies near the base of Mount Kilimanjaro.  Arusha is a city of 600,000 people and has one paved road.  Lying some 300 miles south of the equator, Arusha has only two seasons: 1) the dry season when the days are hot and the air is filled with dust; and 2) the wet season which brings days and days of rain which turn the dirt roads into rivers of mud.

We were in Arusha during the dry season and people crowded the streets.  The women were dressed in bright colored clothes and both men and women carried merchandise on their heads.  

 

I was part of a  mobile tent safari with 9 other folks from the U.S. 

 

Kay from Oklahoma City

 

AUDREY FROM CHICAGO

John and Dixie from Tulsa

   

Emily from Tennessee

Cindy from Oklahoma City

Sue and Lynne from California

and Jerry from Tennessee

(Emily's dad)

Our tour guide was Felician.   Felician was born  into the Iraqw tribe and was a herder with his father and brother until he was 6 years old when the government told his father he must send one of his sons to school.  Because his father deemed him lazier than his brother, Felician was sent to school.  The first day, Felician appeared in his traditional tribal dress with chains around his neck and ankles.  The teacher explained that he could no longer wear his tribal dress, could no longer speak his tribal language, and must learn Swahili.  Swahili is the common language of Tanzania and the government has focused lately on engendering a sense of nationalism throughout the 126 tribes that make up the country.  It has worked so far, and Tanzania has a history of peaceful relations among its many tribes.  When he was a young boy, Felician's father thought he cried too much.  To teach him not to cry,  Felician's father took a razor, cut both of his cheeks and put charcoal in each slice.  Any tears falling down Felician's cheeks and into the cuts burned.  Felician said that he learned to really consider whether anything was worth crying over or not.  Scars are still evident on his face.

Felician did well in school and became a naturalist.  He was employed by the Tanzanian government as a conservationist and later was hired by Abercrombie and Kent as a tour guide.  His brother is still a herder in his village today.

Our mobile tented safari was deemed to be "luxurious" and it was by camping standards - but not by any Hilton hotel standards.  The tents were tents  - but had some great features not found in the normal campgrounds. 

The back of the tent shows the make-shift plumbing features.  The far left fixture serviced the toilet and had a mini-septic type system.  Over the toilet in the tent was the chain that one pulled to flush the toilet.  The green bucket in the middle held water for the shower and the green bucket to the right held the water for the sink.

Water for the shower and for the sink was heated in a large garbage-looking type can over a wood fire.   Each tent had an "assistant" who would heat the water and carry it in green buckets from the can to the tent, climb the ladder and pour it into the canvas bag on the back of the tent. 

Julius was the "tent assistant" for the tent shared by Kay and me.  Every morning he awakened us with coffee and scones.  He was a truly a gentle-man.

Our safari was an 11 day adventure.  We spent 4 nights in Lodges in Tanzania and the rest were in the tents.  The lodge nights were spaced every 3 to 4 days which allowed us to re-charge batteries and take good showers.  Though we had lights and lamps in the tents, there were no electric outlets.  So much for hairdryers.  I wore a hat most of the time while on safari.  We camped at 3 of Tanzania's National Parks: 1) the Tarangire Park which is filled with wildlife and the baobab trees; 2) on the rim of the Ngororono Crater; and 3) the Serengeti National Park.

Our camp in the Tarangire Park was along a creek bed that led to a watering hole for elephants and other wildlife.  It was exciting on the first evening when we watched a family of elephants walk past our camp.   At night we  could hear them snorting along with other animals, including lions.

The Tarangire was also filled with  baobab trees which I first heard of in high  school when my French teacher had us read the LITTLE PRINCE by Saint-Exupery.   Baobab trees  have incredibly huge trunks that appear to be made of several tree trunks glued together.  In the story of THE LITTLE PRINCE, the tree are said to be as "big as castles" so that a whole herd of elephants could not eat a singe one.  After seeing these magnificent trees, I agree. The trees are hollow inside and bushmen have used them for shelter as well as warthogs and other animals.   The trees spend many months of the year without leaves.  As a result, their branches appear more as roots during the barren months.  Legend has it that the devil pulled the tree out of the ground then stuffed it back into the earth upside down - with its roots showing above the ground and its foliage underground.

The first day of a wildlife drive was astounding.  We saw incredible lions, jackals, elephants, giraffes and many more.  The animals viewed our tour trucks as presenting no danger to them. As a result, we were able to get incredibly close to them.  Here are pictures of some of those incredible beings.

This lioness was on the banks of a river where elephants were drinking, and she was forced to find other space when the pachyderms ran her off.

She ended up in the shade of a bush - watching the elephants on the bluff across the river.  Here's a better
picture.  Elephants are matriarchal and very family orientated.  It's very difficult to get a good picture of a young elephant who is always in the middle of the family members.

Elephants normally sleep standing up although the  younger ones will lay down to nap.

While watching the lion and elephant, Felician saw a male lion resting in the shade under a bush.  The lion was lying between the river and large groups of elephants walking toward the river to drink.  Felician said we needed to wait and see what happened.  After about 30 minutes,  a young elephant took off after the lion who lost no time getting out of the neighborhood. Felician explained that although the lion is deemed to be the "king of beasts" - the king is really the elephant.  The elephant just doesn't know it.

(I had thought only people suffered from not knowing who they are; just think of how many people have no clue how truly wonderful they really, really are!)   The lion  jaunted up the hill towards our trucks - and we had to yield the right of way.

But we were able to get good photos of him.

Although he had every reason to be dejected,he

kept his head up.

He eventually found a cool place to get out of the sun.

Animals are like humans.  Some are good parents and some are most neglectful.  Elephants are very family-centered and protect their young by putting them in the middle of the herd as they graze and travel.  Giraffes, on the other hand, are most neglectful. 

One afternoon, we saw a newborn giraffe with the umbilical cord still attached.

There were
 adult giraffes grazing at a distance from her but none that were close.  Felician said that giraffes have their young, drop them and then go eat.  They do this tho' they have carried their babies for a gestation period of 450 days. When the mothers are finished eating, they'll come back to where their babies were left. But sometimes, the babies aren't there. The baby giraffe we saw seemed to get frightened and took off - running quite a distance until she stopped and looked at us - a far distance from the adult giraffes.  Felician said that a predator like a leopard probably had her in his sights, and she would have no defense since she was a newborn, alone, and knew nothing about protecting herself.  I still think about this baby giraffe.

This wonderful bird is a plover and always brought a smile to my face when she was perched close to the road.  Felician would say before starting a wildlife drive, "Let's see what Mother Nature has for us to see today."  When a plover showed up, I was tickled to death! 

This sign is at the entrance to the Lake Manyara park reserve.  It's a good reminder of the gifts that Mother Nature gives to each of us.   Here are some we were given.

This little one was "followin' in his momma's footsteps" - literally.

This little zebra was busy watching us watch him.  Baby zebras have brownish stripes unlike the black ones of the adults.  Zebras have very weak backs, cannot be ridden and cannot be used as pack animals. 

The monkey on the right is a young vervet monkey.  They are the typical stereotypical monkey - playful, curious, and seemingly innocent. 

Baboons, on the other hand, are aggressive and ill-tempered. (see one with her baby to the left).  If baboons are fed by humans, they become more aggressive.  In South Africa, a person will get a hefty fine if caught feeding a baboon.  As for the baboon being fed, authorities will destroy it.   Baboons carry their young on their backs and  sometimes under their belly.  They have incredibly large teeth and were definitely not my favorites!

  This is a wildebeest or "emu."  Along with zebras and gazelles, they are  part of the great migration which travels from north to south and back again across the Seregeti in search of water and green grasses.  They are also the ones that National Geographic show getting eaten by the croc as they try to cross a river.  I love their beards.

This is a cape buffalo which are known to be tempermental and kill humans more than any other animals.  They are one of the "Big 5."  The others are the lion, leopard, rhino, and elephant.

This is a jackal which is similar to our fox. 

And this is the infamous hyena.  Hyenas love to sit around in pools of mud, and I'm not sure what color their coats really are.  They are real "crunchers" and will eat the bones of animals killed by other predators.

Speaking of mud holes, warthogs also love them and have daily mud baths.  These creatures run with their tails straight up and have faces that only a mother could love.

At the other end of the spectrum is the beautiful crested crane which is also the national bird of Uganda.  We never saw them fly - and I can't imagine them wallowing in mud.

We watched a lioness stalking zebras from afar one afternoon.  Although the zebras were barely visible, she could see them and was watching and stalking.

Lionesses do all of the hunting for their pride.  The male lions rest. . .and rest. . .and rest. And sometimes, they just can't stay awake, no matter how hard they try.

And sometimes, they can't help but yawn - - - wide - - -

But - they are beautiful creations.

Lionesses, on the other hand,  sleep on the ground, on their backs ( like one of my dogs)   - and occasionally in sausage trees - and sometimes in tall grass with their babies.

Trees also serve as lookouts for some lionesses.  We were lucky to see 2 in a tree.

Leopards are elusive creatures and are not even counted in the wildlife census that is attempted every few years because they are so difficult to find.  Felician told us to look for 4 legs hanging from trees.  I had no idea what he meant. In the tree to the right, there's a leopard asleep.  This was the first of two leopards we were able to find.  

By the time we had ooh'd and aah'd over and over, she woke up to see what was going on.

But she never budged from the tree.

The next day, we ran into another leopard who was lying on a tree limb and was closer to the road.  I was able to get a better picture.

She was something else!

And could have cared less about us watching her.

Cheetahs are similar to leopards but they have a black stripe on their face which makes it easy to distinguish them.  Cheetahs are also picky eaters.  Whereas leopards will kill their prey, haul it up a tree to keep it safe from other animals, and then return to eat later, cheetahs will kill only when hungry and eat it fresh.  They save nothing for the "rainy day" fund.  We saw 2 groups of cheetahs.

These two cheetahs were busy playing and grooming each other for much of the time that we sat and watched them.  There were three of them in the group and always one seemed to be a lookout.  They eat every two or three days.

While in the Serengeti, we were able to see a part of the great migration of wildebeests, zebras and gazelles on their annual pilgrimage in search of green grass and water.  It was totally amazing.  I think everyone felt like I did; i.e., that we were witnesses to one of the most incredible manifestations of the Divine Intelligence in this life.  Approximately 1.5 million wildebeests migrate each year and around 500,000 zebras. The zebras see well during the day and can give the alarm for predators.  The wildebeests hear well at night and can also watch out for everyone.  The wildebeests and zebras need each other to survive.  That's a lesson we humans could learn from these beings also.

(more to come)

The Butterfly and Mother

There is a Celtic legend that the earth knew no yellow butterflies until Easter morning when the the first one flew out of the tomb at the Resurrection.  I love this legend and at some point in my life, I shared it with my mother.

My mother died on April 12, 2006.  She was 86 years old, and the last years of her life had been challenging due to Parkinson's disease and a stroke that disabled her in 1999.  Yet through all of this, she had an incredible spirit and met all of the adversities with wonderful courage and faith.

When she comes to visit me now in my dreams, she is not elderly nor crippled.  Rather, she is my young, vibrant mother of the age she was in this picture of her and my father. 

This picture was taken many years ago when my parents were dressed up for the Cherokee Strip rodeo held every September in Ponca City, Oklahoma.

Although her death freed her from the sufferings of human existence, I continue to miss my mother because she was so important to me.  Yet I also believe she continues to watch over me.  In June following her death in April, I was with some friends hiking in the Teton Mountains in Wyoming.  I was not in any shape for mountain hiking!  At some point, I stopped with one of my friends to rest and found a good rock to perch myself on.  I hadn't been there for long before a yellow butterfly flew up and landed on my right hand that was resting on my thigh.  I sat quietly as it walked across the back of my hand - as if inspecting it or looking for some lost treasure.  It finally stopped and was still, seemingly content to rest with me.  It remained on the back of my hand for 4 to 5 minutes and didn't fly off until the other hikers caught up with us along the trail.  My friend remarked how odd it was to see a butterfly stay as long as it did on my hand, and I told her of the legend from Ireland.  I also thought of my mom.

In October of the same year, I was speeding along I-40 in the back of a convertible when I looked down and saw a yellow butterfly resting on my thigh.  I don't know how long it had been resting there, don't know how it could have flown into the car that was going so fast, and still don't know how it could have found itself on my lap.  But it was there and stayed there for almost half an hour. 

I certainly don't know what awaits us after this life.  But I do believe that in a mysterious way, love is the bridge between this life and what awaits each one of us after we pass from this existence.  And I have come to believe that at times, messages of love can break into this existence - carried on the wings of yellow butterflies. 

African wildlife

Part of our tour to Africa included spending time on a game preserve near Johannesburg called Pilansberg.  It was an amazing experience to be so close to these animals whose names I first heard when I was a child and mother read books with me at bedtime.  An incredible experience!

                           

The elephant came out of the brush towards our truck.  He was ready to find a mate and was not in the mood for a bunch of tourists gawking out of the open-air truck, flashing their cameras.  These elephants have never been hunted and are relatively safe if visitors follow a few simple rules . . . : no loud talking, no leaving one's seat, no breathing hard/loud, etc.  The rhino pictured is a black rhino.  Black rhinos are aggressive and don't play well with others.  This rhino had lost an ear in an apparent altercation.

                         

This monkey was watching us during one of our rest stops.  He was intent on collecting any tidbits of food that might be left after our snacks of jerky and soda.

The giraffes were marvellous . . . and just as I had always imagined.

It was autumn in April in that hemisphere.

This big boy came so close to our truck that I was able to get a picture of his eye.  He was so close, some of us could have reached out and touched him. . . . My heart was in my throat . . . But it was the experience of a lifetime!

   

Zambia & the Simonga village

Tonight is the evening of Super Tuesday in the U.S. and the polls just closed as I sit here and write.  My mind has wandered back to my trip to Africa in April of this year.  Along the tourist path, I visited a small village in Zambia called the Simonga Village and while American voters are casting their ballots this day, I wonder if their ballots will have any impact on that village.  Hillary Clinton was maligned for saying once that it "takes a village to raise a child" - and now when I hear that statement, I can't help but think of the Simonga village of Zambia.  It will take much, much more for the children of this village to even survive.

Zambia which is part of the old Rhodesia has a population of 10.2 million people who have an average life expectancy of 37 years.  Sixteen (16%) percent of their children die before the age of five (5).  Less than half have access to safe water.  (43 %)  In the Simonga village, there is no plumbing nor electricity.  The huts are thatched roofs, mud walls, and dirt floors.  Most of the people sleep on pallets on the dirt floors.  The people burn elephant dung and peppers in a circle around the village at night to keep the elephants out.

  The head lady of Simonga is "Inonge," a dark skinned woman whose face radiates wisdom and gentleness.  She smiles easily and makes all decision concerning the village.   Inonge had six children, all of whom have died.  She is raising her grandchildren.  Malaria and AIDS have decimated the population.                                                                           The governments of South Africa ignored the AIDS epidemic for years, alleging that AIDS was an invention of Afrikkaners to discourage sex and a ploy by pharmaceutical companies to use Africans as guinea pigs to test its drugs.  The result, according to the Dallas Morning News of 5/22/07 is that 30 million Africans have died of AIDS since 1982 leaving 12 million orphans.  There are no public assistance programs to care for these homeless children.  In Africa, it does take a village to raise a child. . . .

RED EARTH 2007

Red Earth is a celebration of Native American culture that is held in early June in Oklahoma City. The Grand Entry is a parade displaying the grandeur of native life manifested in the faces of age and youth, the energy and beauty of dance, and the rhythmic beat of drums.   

As I watched the Grand Entry this year, I was struck by the faces of native Americans that whirled and danced past my camera lens.  The face of the human being has always fascinated me because etched within its lines and hollows are written the lessons of the years.  Although each face tells the story of an individual, in some ineffable fashion, each face is also part of a greater story that has endured throughout centuries.  Science tells us that each one of us carry within us the genetic markers of our parents, our grandparents, our great-grandparents, our aunts and uncles, etc.  Though grandparents may have died years ago, the shadows of their faces are seen within our eyes, our speech, and perhaps, our glances.   During the Grand Entry of Red Earth, the faces of ancestors unseen were there in the faces of their heirs and issue.  A story of strength and courage, wisdom and compassion, endurance and tenderness continued to be told.

 

Red Earth is a festival of dance and joy.  It is a celebration.

 

It is a festival for  the young and for the old.

It is family.