Autumn Arrived Suddenly

And just like that.
I went to bed in summer and woke up in fall.

One day it was 93 degrees, the next day it was the start of the Labor Day Weekend, and it was just as though someone had flipped a switch.
The weather turned cold.
Or at least cooler.

In truth, it was cold for most of the long weekend, but the weather (in typical Idaho fashion) is all over the map.

One day it is 72 and the next day it is barely 60.

One night it is 45 and the next it is 35.

There was snow up in the mountains over the long weekend, but we are still a long way from snow.

Or not.

Regardless, the coming week promises to be sunny and ranging from 66 to 72 so fall (in fits and starts) is well on its way, and hit us unexpectedly fast as it does every year...............

On the Friday before the long weekend I drove a few miles across BLM land with Kory late one evening, as both woman and dog (as usual) were restless and needing to move.

We did not go far.

Three miles maybe.

But far enough away from the civilization of our Tiny Toon Town and far enough onto the vast emptiness of public lands to feel as they we were away.
From every body and every thing.

As I slowly drove the very dusty and very bumpy double track dirt trail with my dog I watched with amusement as she constantly wandered from one open window to the next, crossing the breadth of our old BLM-Beast behind me, eager and over-eager to see everything that lay before her, taking it all in.

In the almost three years that Kory has lived with us, she has become a valuable and valued member of our small family.

An unspeaking member that has the innate ability to communicate effectively with her people anyway.

She is loved.

And it took a long while, but after all this time I think she has finally realized that she has a permanent family.

People who care about her, and that she is finally and forever home..............

Within a few minutes of hitting BLM land I looked over to my left and off in the distance I could see the coyote.

Almost every single time recently that I have been out around this time of day, I have seen this single coyote.

Always alone. 
Always running.  
Always running in the same direction.

The animal has always been too far away for me to be able to take a picture, but every single time I see her - him - it - I have to wonder what the deal is.

Where's it going in such a hurry?

What are the odds of it always running and always running in the same direction?

Such a strange and intriguing happenstance.

A few minutes later I looked to the right, and standing alone in the middle of vast nothingness, was the antelope.

He also was too far away for me to take a picture and I glanced over at him frequently, wishing that he was closer.

As with the coyote, I have seen this lone antelope frequently recently.

He would be searching for females soon, so that was likely why he had suddenly showed up in our area.

These two have become regular sights over the past few weeks, and I hope that one day soon they're close.

I snapped this picture while I was still driving.

If you click on it and enlarge you "may" see a tiny speck in the middle of the desert.

My beautiful (and elusive) antelope....................

Much to the concern of my now hysterically barking dog, I drove by the first water tank and continued driving on the dirt track.

The dirt on the double track trail was getting deeper the further we traveled, and when I looked behind me all I could see was a huge dust cloud that the Suburban had created as we continued creeping along.

10 minutes later I stopped our dust covered vehicle in the middle of the trail, climbed out, opened the back door of the Suburban and quickly jumped out of the way before I got knocked down by my excited puppy.

She ran across the trail, and up the short rise to the water tank on the hill, instantly in search of bunnies.

I was still standing by the door of the Suburban, and as I slammed the door shut I looked around me.

I could see the antelope off in the distance, alternating between looking over at me and slowly walking across the thirsty terrain.

It finally did rain overnight one night during the long weekend.  But on this day it had not rained in a long time.

Not since sometime in May, and the ground was parched.

So parched that I could almost hear the ground groaning.

Begging for water.

There WAS no water.  Not on this day or seemingly endless days before it.

Looking back in the direction we had come...................

This was the same place I had wandered with LC a month or so ago - the place where large pieces of farming equipment have laid quiet and forgotten for at least the three years that we have now been here.

On this day I randomly and without much thought or care, snapped pictures as Kory ecstatically ran quickly from place to place in search of elusive rabbits.

Occasionally I heard a squeal of delight and turned in time to see a rabbit on the run with a very fast dog following closely behind.

Thankfully on this day at least, the rabbits were both craftier and faster, and I watched with satisfaction as each safely dove into and under places that my 65 pound dog could not reach.................

Slowly wandering, I continued to the back side of this small and seemingly abandoned compound.

Most of the area was fenced - even divided into a couple of different feeding lots that were long overgrown.

There was the huge water tank and water troughs, abandoned farm equipment and seed containers, a long corral that led animals into the feed lots and other signs that told me that at one time this had been an active area.

There were power poles and meters.

There had been power and water in this place.

I was absently curious about the whole thing, as I always am whenever I stop here.

As I continued walking I found myself sinking into the very soft soil.

When I looked down I was surprised to see a cluster of delicate purple wild flowers by my feet.

Looking around me I realized that there were many clusters of these same flowers.

So small and fragile that it would have been easy to miss them.
I almost did.......................

By the time I had completely circumnavigated the compound I looked towards Big Butte and realized that the shadows were getting long.

It was late in the day and the sun was quickly beginning to descend.

Even though I hadn't seen her in a while I knew where Kory was.

I could hear her barking, her running, her tags, her sniffing as she pushed her nose into every crevice she could reach, hoping to flush a rabbit out of its hiding place.

I wandered up to her, snapped a quick picture of the butte and the huge, empty, plastic and metal containers and then watched Kory for a few minutes.
She was taking such great joy from such a simple activity and I smiled inwardly at my happy dog.....................

I had left Kory to continue circling the huge containers while I wandered back towards the Suburban, snapping pictures as I went.

Climbing to the top of the hill that supported Korys bunny-harboring water tank, I looked out into the emptiness in search of my antelope.

He was gone.

Now the emptiness truly was completely empty.

Still standing at the top of the hill I looked down at my shadow.

Instantly I went back in my mind to a picture that Chris had sent to me when he was in Iraq the first time.

It was a picture of HIS shadow.

Standing on a Humvee with one of his friends.

In the shadow-picture I could see his bald head.

The head that he had been shaving ever since he played football in high school.

I could see the outline of his tall, muscular body, and the desert combat pants he was wearing that were tucked into his boots.

Could see the outline of the AR he was holding.

This picture was nothing like that picture, and yet it reminded me very much of that picture...................

Climbing down from the small rise I began to head back to the Suburban.

I called to Kory, knowing from almost three years of experience that it would take her a few minutes to break off her search for rabbits, and then she would wander and meander and mark and sniff and take her time as she headed back to the truck.

 I would reach the Suburban before her, and then would still have to call her a number of times before she finally got back to me.

Not because she was ignoring me (although she was good at that as well), but because she needed time to move from chase mode to riding in the Suburban again mode.......................

Out of breathe, she quickly gulped water first standing and then sitting.

My Florida dog didn't do well in the heat any more than I did and I patiently let her drink between breaths until she had cooled down a little and recovered a little.

It was time to drive through the desert and head back towards the house.

Maybe we'd see the antelope again on the trip home...................

Autumn seemed to arrive suddenly that year. The morning of the first of September was crisp and golden as an apple... ~J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

Glad For Her

A couple of days ago I walked across the road from the house, walked up to the fence of a piece of private property, raised my camera and quickly snapped a few pictures of the deer grazing in the yard.

After taking a few distance pictures I walked along the fence line headed for the side of the home.

As I reached the corner I looked up ahead of me and saw this little guy.

Deer.  Rabbits.  Bambi.  Thumper.

As I have done so many times over the past few years I good naturedly wondered if I was living inside a Disney movie.

I stood five feet away from the rabbit, snapped a few pictures, watched him watching me and wondered when he was going to make a run for it.

Slowly I took one step, and watched in amusement as bunny scurried to the corner of the fence, turned left and disappeared.

I also continued to the corner of the fence, turned left and headed for the front door of the mobile home.

A man bought this piece of property in the spring and has spent a lot of time and effort on it ever since.

He is a widower.  A man who lost his wife to cancer a few years ago, and after listening to him talk about her a few times I know that he still misses her very much.

A good man who reminds me in some ways of LC.

A Vietnam Veteran.  A gun lover.  A man with a sharp sense of humor with people he likes and a complete disdain and distancing from those he does not.

His name is Gary and he walks across the road regularly and together he and LC sit on coolers in the garage, drink coffee and solve the worlds problems.

Once a week or so he comes over for dinner.

Gary bought this piece of land and the buildings that are on it.

The mobile home where he now lives needs work, and I have counseled him a couple of times to not question why previous owners did the stupid (and sometimes unsafe) things they did to the home.

We have run into the same thing quite a few times with our own house, and I have told LC the same thing.

Don't try to get inside the heads of stupid people.  

Just know and accept that when you work on anything in the house from the plumbing to the electrical to the aesthetic, that you will be opening a can of worms.

Over the past three years those cans have mostly been opened and dealt with one at a time.

The mobile home is a mess but fixable and certainly adequate for a single man.

The storage buildings are appreciated by him.

But mostly I love the piece of land.

The deer have eaten down plenty of the trees and shrubs (just as they have at our house), but his land is good land and the views of the desert and the Twin Buttes are beautiful.....................

It felt strange to be knocking on his door, because I have been over to his home only rarely.

When Gary answered the door it was obvious that he was surprised to see me, but said that I was welcome to go into the back yard to take pictures of the deer.

Trying to be friendly, he told me to just go into the yard anytime even if he was not home.

Smiling I thanked him and told him that I appreciated the offer, but no.

I would not go onto his land without first asking him and letting him know that I was there.

With that I smiled and said goodbye, walked through the side gate and slowly began to walk through the yard.

As I did I noticed Thumper running across the yard and also heading towards the deer.

Cute little guy.

If he ever wandered across the road into our yard Kory would chase him.

Every day.  

For weeks.  

Tirelessly.  

Until eventually she caught him.
She always catches them.
Eventually. 

 I stood watching him for a minute, consciously hoping that Thumper stayed in his own yard.....................

Moving slowly I closed the distance between the deer and me, snapping sporadic pictures as I went.

There were 7 or 8 grazing contentedly in this welcoming place.

A place where water was left out for them, just as it was left out for them in our own yard (courtesy of Korys' wading pool), and there was plenty to eat.

As I continued my slow walk they occasionally looked up from their grazing.

They knew I was there and were watchful, but not alarmed.......................

One young buck, a few does, and a couple of fawns.................

As I reached the shade of a tree I finally decided that I was close enough.

Crouching down close to the ground I began to snap endless pictures as they slowly grazed their way across the yard.

Beautiful things and it was peaceful to watch them...................

A couple of hours later I walked in town with Kory and the small and growing herd had moved on to the opposite side of town.

As my dog and I walked up and down one dirt and gravel road after another we eventually found them crossing over one of the roads.

Moving (as they freely do) from one yard to the next.................

A coupe MORE hours later LC, Kory and I hopped into the Suburban and drove to the back of town,

In the few minutes it took for us to load into the vehicle and reach our destination we almost missed the sunset.

It seems to happen that way here.

One minute I can see the sun beginning to set through the trees in the back yard, and the next minute it is over.

But I still managed to capture the fading pinks and purples of a desert and distant mountains, barely covered with the smoke of endless western wildfire..................

The other day I did something that I wished I had not done.

I found Jessica's Face Book page.

I don't hear from her anymore.  Don't get updates on her son and my grand son anymore.

I found a picture of him.

He is growing fast.  Looking more like his mother every day.

The last time I looked at Jessica's page was probably over a year ago, and there wasn't much on it presumably because of the security settings she had on her page.

This time there was much more.

Her.  Her son.

Seans' picture had been on her page last time but it is gone now.

She is in a relationship with someone and she sounds happy..................

Not long after Sean died I was on a hospital page in Nashville.

The same hospital that he had worked for.

They were looking for an Athletic Trainer.

Of course they were...................

His clothes are gone.  His truck was given to one of Jess's brothers.

I saw the pictures online when the house was put up for sale.

It was mostly empty but there were still a few things left in the house.  

You're supposed to do that when its on the market. 

So potential buyers can envision their own furniture in the home................

The matching maple china cabinet and pedestal table were still sitting in the dining room.

The ones I had bought a couple of years before Sean was born.

The ones I had given Sean and Jessica when they got married..............

On the dining room wall was a picture of a snow capped mountain reflected perfectly in a mirror-calm lake.

I had taken that picture in Juneau Alaska.

I loved that picture.

I loved that place.

I had the picture blown up and then had it professionally framed.

Had given it to Sean and Jessica as a Christmas present.

The last Christmas.

The last Christmas with him.

The last Christmas when I didn't have to fake it.......................

Jessica has moved on.

She's a young woman.

She's supposed to move on.

I'm glad for her.............................

 He awoke each morning with the desire to do right, to be a good and meaningful person, to be, as simple as it sounded and as impossible as it actually was, happy. And during the course of each day his heart would descend from his chest into his stomach. By early afternoon he was overcome by the feeling that nothing was right, or nothing was right for him, and by the desire to be alone. By evening he was fulfilled: alone in the magnitude of his grief, alone in his aimless guilt, alone even in his loneliness. I am not sad, he would repeat to himself over and over, I am not sad. As if he might one day convince himself. Or fool himself. Or convince others--the only thing worse than being sad is for others to know that you are sad. I am not sad. I am not sad. Because his life had unlimited potential for happiness, insofar as it was an empty white room. He would fall asleep with his heart at the foot of his bed, like some domesticated animal that was no part of him at all. And each morning he would wake with it again in the cupboard of his rib cage, having become a little heavier, a little weaker, but still pumping. And by the mid afternoon he was again overcome with the desire to be somewhere else, someone else, someone else somewhere else. I am not sad..........Jonathan Safran Foer