Five ticks, twelve times a minute, the second hand advances,
Either with a steady eye on watch or momentary glances.
So also does my heart; I know not the number each minute;
Counting down the beats of life, no matter the deeds within it.
I read once in a written family history that when my Great Grandmother, as a little girl, first arrived in Utah from Denmark. she saw a valley filled with teepees and it frightened her. In the early aught years of the 1900’s, things were not exactly settled and after what she would have known about America and the west before arriving, her fear would have been well understood.
The image that she described set firm in my mind and when I saw the image I found on Pinterest today, they seemed to match.
It is also the same image I hope to provide the reader within my book Ain’t Dead Yet.
Thanks Great Grandma.
Micah 7:18-19:
Who is a God like unto thee, that pardoneth iniquity, and passeth by the transgression of the remnant of his heritage? He retaineth not his anger for ever, because he delighteth in mercy.
He will turn again, he will have compassion upon us; he will subdue our iniquities; and thou wilt cast all their sins into the depths of the sea.
“Do not approach the Bison”
I read this several times during a day trip to Antelope Island. Located in the middle of the Great Salt Lake, away from the civilization of the Wasatch front, the island is teaming with wild life. You know, the animals that don’t eat from a provided food dish and water bowl. Deer, antelope, rabbits, coyotes, Mountain sheep, and buffalo all roam free. Throw in a few badgers and bobcats and it’s a Western Style Safari.
The massive buffalo roam free and are seen grazing in nearly every open grassland field, which is the most of the island. Some were close and some were far away. I have even been stopped by them as they crossed the road and really don’t care because, well they are big and they are wild. They need us for nothing and they, well, like I said, they’re big.
I have never, ever thought of petting one. It surprised me that warnings would have to be issued. I mean, really.
I figure if you get to the point in your life where you travel on your own, or even with others, and haven’t figured out that life is not a petting zoo, that bad things can happen when humans leave the comforts of their houses and cars and mingle with wild animals, or that it’s no one’s job is to make sure you’re not too stupid for yourself; maybe a good buffalo sized lesson might be in order.
Just saying.
Every once in a while, two paths cross: the past and the present.
I’ve been zigzagging across these paths for a while now and especially over the last few months. Following along the Pony Express Trail, passing old stations and land marks known and marked from history, sometimes the past isn’t so long ago.
On one trip this past spring, I came across the preserved cabin built by Porter Rockwell in Eureka, Utah. It stands outside, under a protective roof, like a proud trophy or monument to a remembered hero. While I stood admiring the work that must of been used in order to move and protect this old structure, several other passer-thru’s stopped to look as well. Ol’ Port still can draw them in!
I snagged a picture and touched the cabin. Although the oils of our hands didn’t mix, the act of touching something that someone who died nearly a hundred years before I was born had touched, made that person real and become a part of me.
Within the echoes of the past
Every once in a while, I peel potatoes.
There’s a quiet to it, a simplicity, a clarity of goal.
There’s really only one way to do it; only one test of whether you’re doing it right or wrong: Is there any skin left?
Not a whole lot of brain power required.
But while peeling potatoes, it a good time to think; to reflect.
It’s good for the tummy, it’s good for the soul.
Feeling wayward? Needing time to get your head on? Go peel some potatoes.
You’re welcome.
I think it’s important to take time to admire the contributions of others. It’s so easy to become self important and absorbed in our own endeavors that we can ignore or even dismiss what others have done.
I am currently trying to memorize the poem by Robert Service “The Cremation of Sam McGee”. It is a poem that has captivated me since early teens but I have never taken the time to learn it by heart.
I struggle to memorize things. I get concepts but the order of the words is not something I can keep straight in my head. Never let me quote you! But this poem is of such a sweet spot in my heart, I think it merits the time to work on it and get it right.
It may take some time, but I’ll get it. It’s worth it.
Isaiah 45:17 But Israel shall be saved in the LORD with an everlasting salvation: ye shall not be ashamed nor confounded world without end.
Please excuse my indulgence but on Sundays I would like to share a word from the Word. I apologize for those who might be offended or think it out of place, but its more for me than others.
“When you arise in the morning give thanks for the food and for the joy of living. If you see no reason for giving thanks, the fault lies only in yourself.” -Chief Tecumseh
Mike M Jensen 