Oh Deer!

During my sabbatical (January through March of this year) Willa enjoyed the best of both worlds spending time in Boise, Idaho with Len, and then he’d bring her to me in Darby, Montana. She adored the wilds of Montana for a couple of reasons:

  1. The two resident cats where we stayed—Marlo and Avocado.
  2. The zillions of up-close-and-personal mule deer. Willa always stayed statue-still and simply enjoyed watching them.

Willa watching the Nature Channel—deer outside the window

And then there was the day that a doe hopped the six-foot wooden fence into the back yard and couldn’t get back out. That was definitely an oh deer moment. I made like Harry Potter and put on my invisibility cloak, snuck outside and opened the gate, then snuck back in and watched through the window. Sure enough, the moment she saw the way to freedom she made like a bread truck and hauled her buns!

Literal or figurative, what was your last “oh deer” moment?

© TuesdaysWithLaurie.com

Deep Roots

Trees are among my favorite living things.

“Trees purify the air; they also purify the mind . . . if you want to save your world, you must save the trees.” —The Trees of Endor in J.R.R. Tolkien’s book, Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers,

Hidden under the rich soil is an enormous underpinning of roots; an intricate system that extends two to three times the radius of the crown. Deep roots anchor the tree; enabling it to dance without falter; to sway in unison with other trees in the unpredictable wind.

Weathered tree roots along a high-and-dry portion of the West Fork Bitterroot River

When we look to trees—learn from and emulate them—we discover the ancient key to tranquility. We’re reminded that we, too, have deep roots and are meant to branch out into the world.

And while life seems to move faster and faster each day, when we stand still like trees, remaining rooted to what sustains us; we remember to take pleasure in nature and hold dear all who live here.

Trees are my personal reminder that deep roots allow me to bend in a storm—to be flexible—while still reaching for the sky.

If you could be any tree, what type would it be?

© TuesdaysWithLaurie.com

Sleuth Mode

I don’t know if they’re year-round residents, or seasonal, but a clear view of the side of the neighboring house reveals magpies and a pileated woodpecker vying for the same construction space. Their tactical maneuvers are like watching a Blue Angels airshow.

Hint # 9—If I were a trout (rainbow, brown, or westslope cutthroat) I’d be tickled pink to swim in the river a stone’s throw from my sabbatical location.

My temporary home away from home is glorious. And even though there’s a solid, six-foot wooden fence around it, I had an unwitting guest—a doe—who cleared the fence to get in but was mystified on how to get back out.

If you’ve followed this blog for any length of time, you know I’ve always wanted to be a magician, international spy, and mad scientist. In the blink of an eye, I claimed elements from all three and transformed into sleuth mode.

Mist-like, I slipped out of the house sight unseen, unlatched the gate, and slipped back inside. When the doe took a double-take at the fence, she saw an opening and beat a hasty retreat.

What was your last sleuth-mode escapade?

Reminder, the caveat of the Looking for Laurie game stipulates: “The first person to type the accurate city and state of my sabbatical location into the comments section of the Mar 28 post will receive a personalized copy of Note to Self: A Seven-Step Path to Gratitude and Growth for themselves or as a gift to someone else.”

© TuesdaysWithLaurie.com

These Boots Are Made For Walkin’

A minimalist, not only do I live light, I pack light too. For my three-month sabbatical I brought two pairs of jeans, four 3/4-length sleeve shirts, a down vest, a down jacket, jammies, and under clothing—including woolly pulleys.

My footwear consists of snow boots, snow shoes, and slippers. Serious slippers!

Hint #8 — From in the state, and out, people travel from all over to enjoy the year-round outdoor recreational offerings in my sabbatical location. Good thing I brought snow boots, because hiking (trails are prevalent) is great for clearing the cobwebs in one’s mind before writing.

While hiking, it wouldn’t be surprising to see these types of tracks: mule deer, grizzly bear, elk, wolf, fox, coyote, and raccoon.

My boots leave tracks too, but my goal is to leave the slightest footprint on the planet, while at the same time making a lasting impression on its inhabitants—one that’s positive, uplifting, constructive, and healing.

What type of tracks do you leave?

Reminder, the caveat of the Looking for Laurie game stipulates: “The first person to type the accurate city and state of my sabbatical location into the comments section of the Mar 28 post will receive a personalized copy of Note to Self: A Seven-Step Path to Gratitude and Growth for themselves or as a gift to someone else.”

© TuesdaysWithLaurie.com

The Space Between

It’s the space between words on a page that make reading enjoyable. It’s the space between notes in a musical score that makes listening pleasurable.

Hint #3 — Globally there are eight species of pelicans. Only two of the eight species live in North America. During my sabbatical, I won’t see any because they’re wintering in states south of my geographic location. If it were summertime, however, I might be gifted with a sighting.

Life has spaces.

Some are shorter than others—the space between breaths, blinking, and heartbeats.

Some are longer than others—the space between cell phone upgrades, careers, and changing homes.

Life happens in the space between. And it’s meant to be savored.

Do you give yourself enough space?

Reminder, the caveat of the Looking for Laurie game stipulates: “The first person to type the accurate city and state of my sabbatical location into the comments section of the Mar 28 post will receive a personalized copy of Note to Self: A Seven-Step Path to Gratitude and Growth for themselves or as a gift to someone else.”

© TuesdaysWithLaurie.com

Craters of the Moon

On the return leg of a road trip to Montana—we stopped at Craters of the Moon National Monument in the Snake River Plain in central Idaho. To see it, you’d think you’d just stepped off a spaceship onto another planet. Here’s a photo of the terrain:

According to the brochures we received at the visitor’s center:

“Craters of the Moon is a vast ocean of lava flows with scattered islands of cinder cones and sagebrush—a volcanic wonderland that is fun to explore. In 1969 NASA astronauts Alan Shepherd, Edgar Mitchell, Eugene Cernan, and Joe Engle explore the monument while training to visit the moon.”

It made me think about life on other planets; lifeforms we refer to as “Martians” or “Aliens.” If they visited us, they’d probably feel extremely out of place. On the flip side of that coin, we’d probably feel extremely out of place on their planets too.

photo-on-10-14-16-at-11-10-am

When was the last time you felt out of place?

© TuesdaysWithLaurie.com

Katydid – Or Did She?

Walking along I saw what looked like a leaf laying on its edge. Curiosity piqued, I went over and took a closer look. A katydid!

The detailed veining on their green, oval-shaped bodies makes each one look like a leaf— phenomenal camouflage when you spend the majority of the day eating leaves in tree tops and don’t want to be seen by a predator.

With ears located on their front legs, katydids rub their front wings together to sing. Preferring to walk and climb, they have the ability to fly short distances, but do so only when they feel threatened.

This little gal wasn’t scared of me. In fact, she let me give her a ride out of traffic on a twig.

When was the last time you hid in plain sight?

© TuesdaysWithLaurie.com