Every Day Is A Gift

I had two choices this morning:  get my rear out of bed really early and head to Yosemite to try to get some sunrise photos or stay home and do housework. Because a meeting of the Yosemite Sierra Visitors' Bureau was scheduled for 2:00 p.m. in Oakhurst, my time was limited, so that factor added to the decision-making process.

The choice should have been easy, right?

Actually it was. I chose the housework. It's been several weeks since I've slept well, and last night, for some reason, was very restful. I awoke at 5:15 a.m. and decided to sleep a bit longer. It was absolute heaven.

Even the dusting, mopping and vacuuming were relaxing in a strange sort of way, once I got going. The animals weren't quite sure what was happening because they don't see this kind of activity very often, but they managed.

Once done with the vacuum, I took its reservoir outside to empty the water--and came face-to-face with "our" herd of deer. Yosemite Lakes Park is overrun with mule deer. They are pests, and they trample all the gardens they can get to . . . the ones they don't prune to the ground, that is. That being said, I still have an affinity for the beasts . . . their twitching ears, their massive brown eyes, their wagging tails. Despite their negatives, for me they have an undeniable beauty. The herd that often hangs out at our house consists of two does, each with two fawns and usually one or two additional does who accompany them.

Quite often I'll come home to find one of the does and her babies camped  next to the house taking a nap. Of course they jump up and scamper off as soon as the car comes up the driveway. Although I often carry my camera with me, I never seem to have it when "the kids" are around.


That's why today was a gift.

I was home; the deer were far enough away that I didn't startle them when I walked outside. I quickly went back inside, grabbed the Canon and the 75-300 mm and shot away.

Although the lighting conditions weren't ideal, and the guys were in the shade, I got a few shots to play around with. Rather than running off, they all stood around and allowed me to shoot away. One of the fawns actually had laid down in the field and continued to stay there. Unfortunately my photos of her were out-of-focus and unusable.

 

 

When the herd decided to leave, I came back in the house and prepared to download the photos. As I looked out the dining room window, a raccoon ambled by, outside the fence. There was no way I could position myself to get a picture, but I watched him until he disappeared into the neighbor's yard.

I love living here, in the mountains/foothills. What a blessing each day is.

Time on My Hands

Juggling the hours in a day is nothing new. I’ve done that for years. What’s most challenging is productively filling hours that have been highly structured. Going from five days of work to five days of weekend requires adjustments.

How does it happen that all those projects you promised yourself you’d tackle when you had a few days to yourself go right out of the mind?

I’ve made a few promises to myself, though, and I’m happy to say I’m keeping them.

Walk or hike every day. For the past two weeks California ’s central valley has faced triple-digit temps, so walking right now involves getting up at dawn. The beauty of being out of the house that early is the opportunity to marvel at magnificent sunrises. I’ve always loved sunrise. When I worked in Fresno , ten years ago, I made sure to leave my Cascadel Woods home while it was still dark. I took the back way to town, down Road 211 and fed my soul with visions of egrets and blue herons, bald eagles and red-tailed hawks.

Maybe that affinity for early morning helps explain the attraction I feel for the Dineh (Navajo) people, who believe that the Holy Ones make their way across the sky at dawn. A tenant of their religion is to rise before dawn and face the east to greet them.

Start to write again. This blog is witness to keeping that pledge. After years of believing I couldn’t make time to write, I relish the moments I share with myself, reminiscing. Maybe I’ll even finish those stories I left in limbo. They’re still in my memory bank if not on the hard drive.

Do some cleaning. That one’s a little tougher, but we’re making progress there, too. That promise could be the one that fills all the remaining hours. There's plenty to do.

Scan to disk all the old family photos I can find while I still have some idea of who those folks are.

Travel and explore. So far friend Pat and I have managed trips to Napa and Lake Tahoe . It’s a great start.

There are still too many hours that seem to disappear into the Black Hole of Nothingness, but I've promised myself I'll make some plans for those, too.

It’s now after midnight and time to do something else in short supply around here: sleep!