|Aspen Rug Hooking Company|
The Art of Living
For as long as I can remember, I have been a lover of the
great outdoors. I frolicked as a young child splashing after
tadpoles in a nearby pond, dug in the dirt for worms, picked
buttercups and lupines for my mother and climbed up the
closest tree I could spy.
As a teen, I was more interested in the river and the gorge
that was adjacent to where I lived than any modern day
materialistic pursuit. I explored the wilderness and its
treasures, whatever the season; I could find beauty and
happiness whether there was snow, rain or sun.
My Irish Setter, Rusty, and I would set out on any day and run
through the meadow, down a steep hill to the river's edge. I
could never keep up with her rapid pace. Rusty, flying and
tearing through the tall grasses of the meadow, would leave me
sorrowfully behind despite all my best efforts to race and
keep up with her. My long legs stretching as far as they could
and my breathing, heavy and winded, she would always win with
barely a pant in her breathing, and her eyes wide and brown
reflecting estatic joy.
At the base of the hill, the treeline emerged of our magical
black forest. There we would begin our ecological excursions
and explore together like two best friends confiding in one
another about the secrets hidden among the trees. After
collecting and sharing our secrets, we'd scout for our
favorite resting place. The darkness of the woodland forest
enveloping us as we revelled in the risks and adventure of
moving through the thick bushes to finally come upon the
highest ledge of the gorge. The only things happening here
were daydreams, birds singing and insects flitting about as I
would dangle my skinny little legs over the limestone
outcropping, and Rusty would sit proud and tall with her fur
brushing against my arm; a fierce protector of the girl with
long thick black hair and freckles. Doesn't it sound peaceful,
innocent and playful? Just like the forest itself...
As I grew into a young woman, I continued to be outdoors
landscaping gardens to enhance biological diversity, hiking
and climbing mountains, backpacking and exploring the wild
world around me. In my thirties, I continued to work outside
for AZ Game and Fish and as an Environmental Scientist
Consultant. Helping in small ways to conserve and protect
wildlife habitat. Ecological stewardship is a vital priority
that shapes my life, and will continue to be that way, even
when my limbs become sore, rusted and stiff. Respecting nature
and having consideration for all the life that lives within it
is a state of mind and heart.
Earlier this week, we celebrated Earth Day 2014, and with
spring already here, we can be out of doors celebrating all
that is wild and natural around us. Connecting with flora and
fauna in whatever way we choose helps us remember where we
come from. We can stop and think about where our food comes
from, and where the myriad of resources come from that help to
keep us warm and provide us with shelter. When we stop to
remind ourselves how grateful we need to be for these daily
provisions, it brings a consciousness of gratitude. For, we
are only temporary visitors on this extraordinary planet we
lovingly call Earth.
So make a difference; do something!!!
• Plant flowers and trees
• Take the kids to a conservation area
• Volunteer for one of our national parks or anywhere
• Don't litter, instead pick-up that stray candy wrapper
• Stop, look and observe the birds, bunnies, bugs and creatures
• Then, pass it on!
Being a hopeless and incurable romantic, I see the world
through a "pretty" lense. In other words, for the most part,
my rose colored glasses are nearly a permanent fixture of my
worldview and how I move through life. One of the 'pretties' I
indulge myself with is the flower; whether it's one, two or a
bouquet, it is the sense of pleasure and happiness I receive
from any blossom.
I love to buy fresh flowers for myself, and it's even nicer
when someone gives them to me. When I lived in Waterloo,
Ontario, I was nestled in the heart of Amish country, and what
a lovely place to live. As springtime turned into summer, the
flowers would bloom on the countryside, flower gardens were
everywhere and there was no shortage of blooming color.
I would drive along any of the country roads, and an Amish
farm would have a worn wooden table seated at the end of their
lane with glass mason jars that were filled with abundant
blooms. The colors were bright and happy beckoning any
passerby to take them home.
Sweetness and romance for my visual and smelling senses;
Snapdragons, Delphiniums, Peonies, Roses, Forget-me-nots,
Lilacs and any variety of blossoms your mind could ever
imagine. I would pick out my favorite bouquet for less than
$5.00, and leave my money in the 'honesty' jar on the table,
then drive off leaving a dust trail behind me. The thought of
doing this is pure pleasure to my romantic senses. Oh, how I
miss having the opportunity of doing this.
Living in Denver really does not afford me the same romantic
luxury as being able to pull up to a farmer's lane and
purchase homegrown flowers. Here I buy flowers from the market
and then take them home to admire. Purchasing or picking fresh
flowers is not a frivolous pursuit; far from it. To romance
the senses is like saying 'hello' to that inner feeling of
fluttering butterflies you get in your stomach when you are in
love. It's not quite as nice as being kissed by the one you
love, but it does rejuvenate or kindle that burning fire of
romance, and it bestows happiness on your soul.
Romance and the flower just seem to go together. It's the
delicate balance of color, happiness, fragrance and 'pretty'
that make a flower the beauty it is; and if not watered, fed
and preserved, the flower wilts and then shrivels turning into
a dry crumbled heap of brown and dark colors. Like the flower,
romance is pleasure to the senses of seeing, smelling, feeling
and leverages the love that two people share for one another.
The Art of Living is ...
Inspiration from nature's beauty, simple living, love, and peace.