A Sense of Place

Mark and I debated the merits of returning to vacation spots versus exploring new places. We decided that we couldn't decide. Well, he is more for the latter and I am split evenly. I don't find revisiting places boring at all. There are always subtle changes. The lupines, and all the wildflowers, up at Sonora pass look so dessicated this year, compared to last year (normal precipitation) or the year before (record high precipitation).

Returning to old stomping grounds also give me a sense of place. When I see the lupines on the highway by Camp Blue Road, I know that we have arrived at the lair. They were less abundant this year than in the past. The trees had also been thinned and the forest floor cleared with a proscribed burn. If the lair can avoid the fate of South Lake Tahoe, it will be worth the effort. Click here to see the smoke plume from the Angora Fire, captured by the NASA Aura satellite.

By coincidence, Grandma Ann over at Sitting Knitting wrote about lupines while I was busy painting lupines on my Lair commemorative tile. The old kiln gave the new art shack counselors a great deal of trouble. They couldn't get the kiln to a high enough temperature for long enough. Hence, the clear glaze came out milky.

Almost every day, I hiked up (and up!) to Vista Lodge.

Usually, I joined others for yoga, Pilates or dance class. Sometimes, I would arrive early with a book. Always, I stayed late, dragging my mat to my favorite corner of the deck. I lie in the dappled alpine sunlight and look at this.

My mother says that I should be able to meditate while staring at a blank wall. I prefer to look at the branches of this tree.


Links:
See other Lair commemorative tiles at Back from Camp