Nurture Your Nature 

Jeanna GLeave a comment

Where I grew up, we didn’t have a town pool, we had a town pond.  And it was small.  And there were catfish and the occasional snake sharing the space between shore and the floating dock. But it was a 5 minute bike ride from home, so when school was out and the sun was high, the pond was the place to be.  

But on weekends, when a car and driver were available, we had more options. Coastal beaches were anywhere from an hour to an hour and a half away, but 30 minutes up the road was a state park with a reservoir that had a sandy beach, lifeguards, pavilions with picnic tables, and last but not least, beautiful scenery.

I’m ashamed to admit that a similarly beautiful and accessible reservoir beach is 30 minutes from my front door of 11 years, and I just went for the first time on Sunday.  It wasn’t crowded, the water was serene, temperate, clean and clear, and the view was breathtaking, especially that of the magnificent bald eagle soaring overhead. 

I consider myself lucky to have such places, not at my disposal, but in my care. I see it as a responsibility and an honor to visit, enjoy, and cherish these places while I still have access to them, and I promise myself I will visit that reservoir more often, and explore more of my natural surroundings.

John Burroughs said, “I go to nature to be soothed and healed, and to have my senses put in tune once more.” I think this is something we should all consider practicing more often. Fill your minds with the sounds and images of the natural beauty these parks protect. Let them soothe your soul.  Get in tune with nature so that you can get in tune with yourself. And then return the favor by supporting and protecting these parks before, God forbid, they disappear. 

Cornstalk Solitude

Jeanna GLeave a comment

We’d been in a drought, and then we were inundated with storms. Ain’t that the way?!

The grass wasn’t growing and then, all of a sudden, it was up to mid-shin. 

So I finally got “a round tuit,” and mowed. 

And when I was done, I stood with my hands on my hips, sweating, and admiring my work, when I noticed one single, footlong blade of grass, proud as the day is long, standing straight up in the middle of my yard. It survived. 

My childhood church had a corn field next to it. I went to youth group one night in high school, and our youth pastor said we would finish our night with devotions outside. Unphased, we followed him to the middle of the field where we found one single cornstalk still standing after the harvest. We sat in a circle around the stalk and stared at it for a bit before chatting about it. 

What could this single remaining cornstalk tell us about life? 

Someone said it was the corn’s attempt at controlling its own destiny; it didn’t want to be like all the other corn by leaving home and becoming something else. 

Then someone countered, “It’s sad that it got left behind, never to see the world and reach its full potential. It actually wanted to live in community and contribute to society.”

The questions abounded: Did it see itself as a survivor? Did it beat the farmer only to find the success didn’t really matter? Or was it a symbol of resilience? Or of faith that all would be okay? Would it see itself as a wise old soul, there to oversee the next generation?

And then I raised my hand and offered, “Maybe it’s just happy to finally have some peace and quiet, and to be alone… as a uni-corn.” 

Rev Your Engines

Jeanna GLeave a comment

I was always up for action as a kid. Luckily for me, so were the kids who lived across the street: Hide-and-Seek during the day, Ghosts in the Graveyard at night, building tree forts in the summer and igloos in winter, or hunting for hermit crabs at the shore or blackberries at the park. 

Their stepdad liked to play with automobiles, and he let us race his go-karts around the field, and tagalong to Riverside Park to watch the stock car races where he worked on a pit crew. 

I just discovered a speedway exists in the county where I live, so my friends and I took our kids down one Friday night to watch the races. What I quickly remembered is you don’t just watch a car race, you feel it. The vibrations, the sounds, the smells are all so intense that you can’t focus on anything else. I wasn’t out there racing a car (even though I’d love to give that a try!), but I still felt like I was a part of the action.

I may not play like I used to, but I still like to explore what’s out there that can get my engine revving.