Farewell, beloved sweater

In the early nineties, my mother lovingly knit me a sweater.  She enjoyed knitting; it was a relaxing pastime for her, and she always asked what kind of sweater I wanted next. I requested this one long, and we chose the colour because it was one of my best ones on my personalized colour chart. I think the pattern was probably from the Canadian Living magazine, and my mother knitted it in nice, warm wool.  It took my mother forever to knit sweaters, but it was worth the wait. I revelled in its coziness.

Stephen to my right, and Nicholas on my left

Here we are in a little town in Slovakia with our friend Gitka and her son, Darius, eating a Slovak delicacy called langos. It's a garlic laden bread pastry, greasy but delicious.  The weather was cool, so wearing sweaters and light jackets was appropriate.
About 25 years later we live in a condo in Red Deer, AB.  I was supposed to downsize when we left our log house near Rocky Mountain House, and we did get rid of a lot of our "stuff".  I could never part with the sweater my mum made me, though.
Terry keeps the condo a little on the warm side, so no need for sweaters inside.  Somehow, other sweaters and  light jackets replaced my favourite pink one for outdoor wear.  
One day we went to the farmer's market looking for zucchini.  Since Terry was with me, I didn't really expect to browse very long.  My eyes were attracted, however, to a pile of brightly coloured sweaters.  Ecuadorian wool! I already had two of these (seen in many past blogs) and I loved them.  In fact, those were wonderful finds from thrift shops.  These were new, but because they hadn't sold for "many years", were marked down to $18.  I decided to try some on, although I hadn't planned on getting another sweater. No mirror.
Terry obligingly snapped several pictures with his cell phone so I could see how they looked on me.  Then when I'd made my choice, he said, "One in, one out!"  I agreed.  I could give up one of my other sweaters. The pink sweater took up the most room, so I finally decided to part with it.
My mother has been gone for 15 years now.  I had clung to the sweater all these years, a souvenir of my mum.  One by one, the things she had made or bought for me were worn out and gone.  It's time to say goodbye to the pink sweater, but I'll never forget how my mum would knit as an expression of her love for me.

Wool (70%) and cotton blend (30%)

Madera Canyon

Madera Canyon is different from other canyons we had walked in.  I was expecting more desert and cactus, but it is high in the north-west face of the Santa Rita Mountains in southeastern Arizona, so the terrain is different.
"Bring your ears, " said Terry as we got out of the car.  As usual, Terry was thinking about the birds we would see. He needs me to tell him which direction the sound is coming from.  I chuckled to myself, thinking of the enormous plastic bat ears for sale at the Kartchner Caverns the previous day. We had joked about needing them to hear better.

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At 5400 feet we started our hike and made our way along the Super Trail.  Various pines and junipers mingled with different types of oak trees, the kind with the small, smooth leaves like the live oaks. Once in a while clumps of yucca made a surprisinging contrast.

The trail was rocky at times, but wound upwards at a gradual slope with many switchbacks. 

Most of the time, it was quiet and tranquil.
A light breeze made the walk comfortable and enjoyable.
When we heard a sound, it was instant stop to try to locate it.
Here's a lifer, a Painted Redstart.

Lizards were continually scurrying off the path.  This one was quite different. It was between 4 to 5 inches long, and stayed relatively still hoping to blend into its surroundings. Terry managed to get close enough with his camera to allow us to later identify it as a Greater Short Horned Lizard. 

Catalina Indian Paintbrush provided splashes of colour along the trail.

Possibly the Hairyseed Bahia.

The Russian Thistle head is huge!  This plant was at the lowere elevations of the park.







A penny shows its size.

We had gone to the canyon to see a bird called the Elegant Trogon, a large, bright green bird with a bright red belly. A couple of people mentioned this bird; we were told there was one resident pair just up the road. Usually they begin arriving from Mexico around the middle of April, but it was still early.  We had just finished our 10.4  kilometre hike, however, and were more than ready to rest with our picnic lunch.  No, we'd come back another time and try again.
 One week later we hiked a steep path for a couple of kilometres.  Some of the people coming back down the path had seen it.  Again, we were too late.  All we heard was a distant "barking" sound in the deep woods, supposed to be one of the sounds it makes. 
"One more reason to come back to Arizona next year," said Terry.

This is the spot where the bird wasn't.

Grandparent Interlude

After our month of birding in Texas, we got to see our youngest grandchildren! Nick's family was visiting Suzanne's parents near Phoenix, so we went to the zoo together one day.

First, a muffin the other grandma had made.

Then some cuddle time.

Grandpa lifts Matteo up to see the giraffes.

This isn't Matteo's hand, but he got to feed the giraffe in exactly the same way with a handful of pellet food.

Another boost to observe the rhinocerus.

Elliston enjoys his nap in the stroller.

Grandma and Matteo watch the koi swimming around.









Our grandparent emotional tank is full, for now.

Texas Highlights

 We didn't think we would see snow in Utah, but we should've known better.  Happy |March 1st!  At least we weren't pulling the trailer, which was waiting for us in Phoenix, AZ.

Four days later, in Seminole Canyon State Park in Texas, Terry was still wearing his winter coat.

Here are the friends we came to Texas to travel with, as they headed home to Canada after having been in the Rio Grande Valley for two months.  We spent almost two weeks birding every day.
This is the end of our time together, after it had stopped raining finally.

A cooperative bird--the Turkey Vulture.

And a couple of Wild Turkeys displaying their plumage to impress the females. Terry's telephoto shot.

Crested Caracara.

 
Gary didn't believe this was a poppy.  It looked more like a thistle, but sure enough, it's a Prickly Poppy.

Texas Bluebonnet, the state flower of Texas. Patches of them made blue splashes on the landscape.

Huisache

Unamed flower, above.




Black Brush blooms

On St. Patrick's Day we made stew, and dressed in green. Terry really does have Irish in his background, but the rest of us don't.










A green kale and pineapple smoothie to set the tone.

Texas Brown Snake, no thicker than a thick pencil.It's not poisonous.

Three turtles on a log; I think they are the Red-eared sliders we saw previously.

Sunrise at Possom Kingdom State Park.

7:35 am

We left early to beat the heat for travelling.

At Monahans Sandhills State Park what fun to slide down the dunes! [I can't get this video to stop running!] Thuis was the last state park before crossing into New Mexico, and then Arizona.





Lots more pictures, but these were the highlights.

A Slow Birder

We were walking on the shaded side of the canyon in the early morning. The rays of the sun had not yet reached this part of the trail. Holding tightly onto my heavy binoculars, I folded my arms so my hands would reach the warmth of my armpits. It was too early to have the binoculars digging into my neck. There was no rush; the birds were not singing. We walked silently along. I liked to photograph flowers but even the tiny daisies were not open. For the second day in a row, we were in search of a certain bird. The Golden-cheeked Warbler is an endangered species only found in the mixed cedar-oak woodland of the Edwards Plateau in central Texas. Everywhere people talked, this bird was the topic of conversation. “Have you seen the Golden-cheeked Warbler?” they would say.


 

Gary was the most knowledgeable about birds, and was really an expert. It's good to go out with someone who knows what to look for. He had been to this spot another year and fully expected to see this speciman again, so he could add it to The List. There were lists for the day, lists for each park we had been to, and most importantly, The Life List. This bird would be on Terry's Life List, and he was glad to have the opportunity to sight it. I didn't keep lists, but helped Terry add to his if we were out together. I don't know if Marie kept a written list, but she informed us that we should do a “happy dance” very time we sighted a “Lifer”. John, who was tagging along with us, stared at her, not sure what to make of this pronouncement. He, too, seemed to be taking detailed notes. 

 

Gary decided we would start at the end of the trail we finished yesterday, to see if we could spot the bird we had heard calling high in the trees. It was almost snack time by the time we got to a little pond surrounded by maple and live oak trees. The fact that they were not in leaf yet meant birds were easy to spot amongst the tangle of branches. That is, if they sat still, which they rarely did. Somone would say, “There's a bird!” or if they knew what it was, the name of the bird according to its song. Everyone's binoculars were trained on the general area. The one who had the bird in sight would give instructions. “Up at the top of the yellow part.” or “At three o'clock in the green branches of the middle juniper tree.” Sometimes I saw it, if it was close enough. My binoculars were not the best, and my neck would begin to ache very quickly with the odd angle. 

 

Around the pond, John, who was from California, saw a couple of birds he had not seen before. But no Golden-cheeked Warbler. I can now recognize the common calls, like the Northern Cardinal, and the moaning sound of the Greater Roadrunner, although he didn't oblige us by running across the road in this park. We headed back the way we came through the grove of trees, Gary listening intently. “There he is!” We tried to pinpoint the source of the sound. Finally everyone's binoculars were trained in a certain tree. Usually I'm slow on the uptake. The tree seemed so high, and birds would hide behind the yellow blossoms. But everyone was seeing it. Finally I saw a movement, and saw a bird, too. What a beautiful bird! A creamy peach breast and an eye rimmed in white. “Does it have a white eye-ring?” I asked Gary. “No, that's the wrong bird.” Lowering my binoculars, I gave up. I was disappointed, though. Everyone was raving about the brilliant yellow colour of the warbler's cheeks. John was thrilled that he had seen not one, but three life birds in one morning. Well, I thought, Maybe we'll still be on the Edwards Plateau at the next park tomorrow.

PS  I just had to show you a picture of John's boots.  In case he encountered a snake!

Israel Final Day - Jerusalem

We were able to be early at the Garden Tomb on our last official day in Jerusalem.  This is a spot within Jerusalem, founded in 1897 by the British, who strongly believed it to be the true site of Jesus' burial. A farmer had been digging for water, found the tomb, closed it up again, and sold the property. At least, that's what Shmulik told us. 

It was peaceful to sit in our own "private" part of the garden and share Communion. It was such a special spot, and it wasn't raining.

Tombs in Jesus' day were carved out of rock.
The disciples put Jesus' body into a tomb belonging to Joseph of Arimathea, a well-to-do Jew, who had prepared it for his own future burial.  After the body was wrapped in linen strips and laid into the tomb, the opening was sealed with a heavy circular rock that rolled in its own little groove.  Several men were required to roll it.  It's not surprising that the women who came to the tomb early in the morning after the Sabbath were amazed to see it rolled aside.
Shmulik explained that the small opening to the left of the door was so the soul could take flight after death.  According to Jewish tradition, the soul would hover for a time after a person died

This is Golgotha, the Place of the Skull.  You can see the holes in the rock that are the eyes, the nose is a bit broken, but the mouth is no longer visible because the level of the ground has come up due to urban build up.  Jewish executions used to take place here.  When the hill was higher, people would be thrown off the cliff to their death.  Golgotha, where Jesus was crucified was near the Garden Tomb.

We entered the tomb one by one, and had our own private look. The actual resting place, seen on the left, was smaller than I imagined.  It made me think of the manger, which was also supposed to have been carved out of rock, unlike the wooden one we always imagine. How appropriate, I thought, "From the manger to the grave."

Byzantine symbols from a later period in time were on the wall.  (They had been painted over to make them more visible)  The bottom two symbols are the alpha and omega of the Greek alphabet.  Jesus said, "I am the Alpha and the Omega. the beginning and the end."  Jesus was present at Creation, and will wrap up history at some point in the future.

 This is the Rabbinical Tunnel along the outside of the Western Wall.
Because this former irrigation system was visible to the enemy,
a new, hidden tunnel was built underground. Some of the group
including Terry, chose to walk through this dry tunnel. They had to
descend a long series of steps and then come up again.

                                                                 



I chose to walk through Hezekiah's Tunnel. This king had it built in 702 BC to bring water into the city of Jerusalem.  At first the water was up to the top of my thigh.  I hiked up my short shorts for a minute, and then the water was ankle deep.  For the rest of the way we held up flashlights as the tunnel twisted and turned for the next twenty minutes.  As well, I hung on tightly to my camera, photographing the legs of the person ahead of me, just to show how deep the water was.

This is a model of Jerusalem as it looked in Jesus' day, showing the second temple.  It would take me a long time to be able to figure out where all the important sites are, although it was explained to us.









The last place we visited was the Yad Vashem, the museum commemorating the six million Jews who perished in the Holocaust.  Outside the actual museum is the Children's Memorial.  The names of children who died are read aloud continuously, as their names flash across the wall.  Very sobering.
I only really saw the first half of the museum because I was thoroughly reading the information on the background of anti-semitism, which I didn't really understand before. I would love to come back again and visit this museum and other spots in Israel.
The next day Terry and I had a tour of the Bridges for Peace, an organization that helps new immigrants and other people who need assisstance.  It's possible to volunteer with them for whatever length of time.  Something to think about.
Farewell, Israel!

Israel - Day 8 - Dead Sea

Today we took a break from Jerusalem and headed towards the Dead Sea.  First stop was Qumran, where in 1947 a shepherd discovered what became known as the Dead Sea scrolls.  These are original portions of the Scripture that were hidden in clay jars of a cave for around 2000 years.

At En Gedi we walked to what we Canadians would call a small waterfall.  David hid from Saul in the wilderness here, running for his life.  We decided not to walk to the second waterfall, further back, as Terry's foot still needed no further stressing, and I didn't feel like clambering over the rocks at the fast pace of the young people.

Hyrax, the modern word for coney or badger in KJV

A few more miles down the road and we were at Masada, a great fortress and palace complex built high on a cliff by Herod the Great in 73 AD.  Swiftly we ascended to the top of the plateau by cable car.  A thousand Jewish people had lived in the city at that time. We could see the ruins of Herod's palace, a synagogue, ritual baths, cisterns, and even a swimming pool, visible because of excavations, shown by a black line along the rock.

 The Romans attacked with the use of a battering ram, as the sides of the cliff were so steep, and the Jews had poured oil down it.  The Jewish people believed that " a glorious death is preferable to a life of infamy".  They killed off each other, and the remaining person committed suicide.  How do we know all these details?  Two women and three children hid in a cistern, and lived to tell the tale. 
Shmulik read us the touching story; it is such a significant event in the culture that Jewish youth are taught about the siege during their army training.  
In 2001 Masada was declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

After this sombre history lesson, we drove to the shore of the Dead Sea, the lowest place on earth at 423 metres(1,388 feet) below sea level, where some of us floated in the densely salty water, over eight times more salty than the ocean. It was a warm enough day, but Terry contented himself with taking the pictures. On the shore, we slathered ourselves with black Dead Sea mud, then rinsed it off in sulfuric hot water in outdoor showers. 

I should've been reading a book!

A relaxing end of the day!