Saturday Morning

The overcast morning kept some whitetail deer away from the cover of the north ridge way after dawn. They flagged their big tails while me and the dogs approached, and got Ben and Maggie all riled up.

On the way down the hill I came across the head and about four inches of a garter snake, probably the remnants of a fox meal. Perhaps we had disturbed the fox, or maybe the head area doesnt taste as good as the rest.

The air under the cottonwood grove had the smell of leaves that are beginning to decay - sort of a sweet, fermenting smell in the early morning. Only parts of the trees are beginning to turn. Down in the understory apocynum and rhus are the first to show fall colors - rich pastel yellow on the apocynum, and yellow tinged with orange, red and purple on the rhus. A White, cream yellow is seen on the box elder maple.

Its nice to walk while there is still dew on the grass, which in the fall occurs later and later. Pretty soon the dew will be frost, which is fine with me, being one that likes winter.

Actually I like all seasons, and the day I am within the most of all. I think I am more and more happy with a humble life, and notice a deep joy within is present most all of the time, especially when I am out walking.







---------------------------------------------


This Saturday night is the end of a long week; Sunday morning starts a new one.

I helped a friend move last weekend. My truck came in awful handy. After the hard work was done I played catch with her son, a boy who didn't think he could throw a football. Thirty minutes later he was throwing spirals better than me, and took great pride in throwing it hard enough to clear the fence in the back yard.

Then on Thursday I led a nature walk for a large group of eighth graders and their teachers. It was a program on lions and bears - and that age group is impressed with some of the more scairy and fantasic stories about these amazing animals. I only had a short hour, but I made the most of my time, and judging by how quiet they were as they listened, I think I did a good job.

Hardwood Floor

As I have gotten older and started assessing where I was going with my life, my former vices that I have enjoyed so much have fallen by the wayside. I don't drink anything with alcohol or caffeine in it,cut down on the sugar, even to the point of giving up my oatmeal cookies at the bookstore I always visit. This might sound like an awful boring life, and maybe it would be, if it werent for the one habit I refuse to give up, which is dancing with single ladies.



My exwife taught me country-western dancing, or more accurately, we learned it together over many years of Saturday nights at the local dance hall. The good thing is I didn't start dancing with single ladies until she divorced me. (except for once, when I asked her permission. That didn't go over too well and I never did it again).



It was a new experience to dance with other partners than my wife. I mean we had two-stepped together to fast songs so long that we hardly thought about it. It was like walking for us, except to the excitement and rhythm of a country song. During the fastest songs I would lead her into a spin you had to see to believe. While she was spinning I would look for her to slow enough that I could reach in and touch her back, as a signal the next time around she would come out of it into my arms. People sometimes asked how she did it and if she was trained in iceskating. She spinned on her heels instead of her toes, which gave her a good pivot point and more control. It was really something to see, and raised the energy level in those Saturday Night honky tonks a notch or two.

But like women sometimes do, she 'moved on'. (after 26 years of marriage). A year or so later I started going out again. I would dance with one lady and go home, figuring that was a successful evening. Over time I got more used to it, and started learning to give very clear leads and be patient with ladies not confident about dancing.

Now I am not at all shy about asking strangers to dance, even if they say 'I don't know how', or 'I havent done it in a long time,' or 'ok, but can you teach me?'. Part of the invitation is my words - the other is the song the band is just starting up. I tell them 'we'll do the triple step - just rock to the left, rock to the right, and take big steps.' 'You make it sound so easy' is what I have heard them say. And it actually is - they just need to keep the beat, relax, and respond to my leads.



I start them out by my side, in open dance position, where they can watch my feet and try to stay in step together. Turns are easy, if they just loosen up and let me ease them through it. If they are too nervous, as evidenced by holding my hands in a death grip, I spin them once or twice which tends to calm them.



Ninety percent of the time my partners pick it right up and do great, and tell me afterwards how much fun that was. In my view the best dancers are not the most skilled ones - they are the ones that enjoy it the most, as evidenced by the smile in their eyes, the celebration and happiness in their style. There is such a pleasurable interaction in dancing - between you and your partner and the music, and often the musicians playing. It's all about having fun and enjoying the moment.



I love late Saturday Nights, sliding over the hardwood to a fast country song with a spirited and beautiful partner in my arms. I pull her close and put my hand on her lower back as we spin together, once, twice. I then hold up and lift my arm and let her twirl on without me, then step in beside her on the same beat.



The ladies have to trust me that I will keep them under control during those fast songs, especially while they are spinning. I look ahead for problems on the floor, like a clumsy drunk, or getting too close to the rail. If I see something bad about to happen I grab my partner and hold them, for their protection, although that rarely occurs. Some ladies scream or laugh as they turn fast - they have no idea how this is going to turn out. I pull them out of the spin and we continue on, having more fun than should be allowed.



It all makes your heart beat fast, and reveals the passion and joy inside you. "Doesnt that make you feel alive?', I have asked my partners once or twice as the song fades away "Yesss it does,' they reply. Last Saturday one said something similar to me as we left the dance floor: "That makes you know you are alive.'



The thing about dancing is once you learn how to do one kind of dance, you are more willing to try others. I started going to a swing dance place on the edge of downtown last Spring. The view out the front door is tall skyscrapers to the south, and the light rail goes by the next block over. The city is mostly emptied on Sunday, when the dances are held. I like to come early and walk in to downtown for something to eat, then ride the six blocks back on the light rail.



I struggled with swing dancing the first few times, because it is done in one spot, which was sort of strange to me. My experience the last 15 years had been mostly with the two step and triple step - partner dances that move counter clockwise around the floor. I stayed with it though, and now six months later am starting to feel ok at it. I am always adding new turns to my swing knowledge to make the dance more interesting for myself and my partner. I tend to do better with the bands that play more rock and roll songs (johnny be good, route 66), rather that jazz swing songs. The rock music catches me, and I feel the beat easier.



What I have learned though is to make darn sure you have the beat down for the song playing, before you ask someone to dance. A three minute dance can seem awful long when ou are not confident you are moving your feet at the right time.



One of the very good things about swing dancing is that by staying in one spot, you can hold your partner close and just rock to the beat while you carry on a conversation, and I have met some interesting ladies that way.



Swing dancing is very popular with young people in my city. The Sunday night of labor day weekend was so crowded it was hard to find 3 feet square on the dance floor. Between dances I went to the window to get some air, which is one story over the street. The windows are propped open, and ceiling fans circulate the air. Music from the band drifted down into the street. When I looked out I saw two young couples taking advantage of the uncrowded sidewalk, and were swing dancing down near the street, which I thought was pretty cool.



Last Friday I went to a another kind of dance - a fall ceili dance, outside under a tent, next to a river with tall cottonwoods along its side. Ceili is a folk dance, with fast rocking steps in response to the direction of a caller.



During the dance one of my partners pulled me out of the tent to show me the full moon that was just rising over the trees. I stayed there a while, then came back in for the next dance. It is tradition to change partners each time during these dances, and I told her she should look for me and I will look for her next time the band plays a waltz.



I didn't see her again, and the mystery of lost opportunities was on my mind as I drove home, wondering why I didn't linger with her longer under the moonlight.



Sometimes the band plays a waltz or two to break up the night of ceili dances. During the first waltz, about midway through the evening, I asked a grey haired lady to dance who was slim and athletic, and who responded gracefully to my leads. That dance was pleasurable and memorable, and clearly warmed both our hearts. There is nothing I know that is more romantic than dancing with a skilled partner to a beautiful violin waltz.



The band played another waltz to close out the evening, when the full moon had risen high in the sky. I asked a young lady to dance who had been my partner for a lively ceili dance. She wore a dark skirt, and her long black hair fell over a white blouse.



She told me she had never waltzed before. I said it is just left one two three, right one two three, and pulled her to my side to follow my steps. Twenty seconds into the dance she was doing a beautiful waltz. Her love for the music and athletiscm made her a natural dancer.



I spinned her slow, and she would come out just right, stepping back as I stepped forward. As she twirled her long black hair would brush against my face. Once again it was incredibly romantic. I told her how great she did, and how much fun that was.



My bet is she will remember her first waltz, as I will.



I see dancing as a kind of a spiritual thing, as in the best prayer being a life well lived, in joy and laughter, in reverence and gratitude, in music and dance.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------



To watch us dance is to hear our hearts speak. - hopi saying




To be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling in love. - jane austin

Grace and Beauty

For nearly a year I had been planning on coming up here. Actually it was two years now that I think of it. I loaded my pack, cooked dinner, and slept in the back of the truck at the trailhead with my dogs. I was hoping to get an early start.

I did. By 7am me and Ben and Maggie (my border collies) had our packs on, and started up the trail just as the first sunlight was hitting the trees on the ridge.

I let out a loud 'yeeeeehaaah' every 10 minutes or so, that probably could be heard a mile up the trail. That cleared out any grizzlies that were foraging in the meadows in the early morning. More than once I smelled the musky scent of a large animal, not elk, as I crossed one of these meadows. I could see the ground was torn up here and there, as if something was eating roots. My dogs smelled it also, and got excited, pulling on their leash and lifting up to their hind feet to look up the trail, then up the slope.

Nine miles later my yeehahs were a heck of a lot quieter when I went around blind corners in the trail - more like 'heeeyyyy bear, it's me, I'm coming,' as I clacked my trekking poles together.

Several lakes and some rocky peaks came into view as I topped the saddle of the last divide separating me from the backcountry basin I had been wanting for so long to see.

I climbed to the lakes that were at timberline, and set up my tent in a clump of spruce above one of them. I then hauled all my food to the ridge on the opposite side of the lake from my tent. 40 minutes later I was sitting on that ridge eating cooked rice and drinking coffee, admiring miles of wild Montana surrounding me on all sides, home of the great bear and at least one pack of wolves. After dinner I warmed some hot chocolate that went well with the White Chocolate Macadamia cookies I always bring along.

I felt awful satisfied to have made it those nine miles so easily, reaching the basin by 2:30pm, especially since I am getting so darn old. I was a little apprehensive about night up there alone. The forest ranger down in West Yellowstone had told me there were plenty of grizzly where I was going. A little bit of fear is a good thing though. It keeps you careful. I burnt some blueberry leaves in my cook pot and stood over the smoke, trying to mask the scent of my clothes.

I have done this sort of thing before though, for quite a few years now. I went to sleep soon after dark and slept peacefully all night long, as did the dogs in the tent with me.

There are moments of grace and beauty in life, that might seem small at the time, but as they stay in your memory you realize how important they are. The images and feel of that next morning have remained with me, when I woke to clear and calm skies. Over the next few hours the reflection in the lake down from camp was unbelievable, certainly like a gift. Calm, windless weather like that doesnt happen a lot in the Montana mountains. I have woke to morning thunder and rain more than once.

But standing there in such a place, on such a morning, made me realize I am living right, being one that puts stake in a simple and humble life. My highest goal is to have the strength and will to be on a mountain to witness something like that, with my two wild and loyal dogs beside me, watching the sun come in and out of the clouds, seeing the landscape now in shadows, now shining with a brilliance that must be near to heaven.