Kite Man

I saw him on the beach flying a stunt kite. Such kites are manipulated by two hand controls and take very little wind to operate. They appear to have a spirit life all their own.

As he was animatedly describing details of the kite, I noticed his hands. His fingers were permanently folded into his palms. The skin on his face was stretched tight looking like some burn scars I have seen. His passion for his work was delightful.

His story unfolded with him telling me that he had a disease called scleroderma. The doctors told him it had about run it's course, and there was nothing they could do for him. He decided he would do what he always wanted to do.....go to the Oregon coast and fly kites. He is still alive, and still flying kites, well beyond the time anyone thought he would have.

On the "sail" of this kite, he has put the Celtic symbol for Eternal Life. He calls what he does -- "Tai Chi of the Wind."

I wanted to give him something for the "gift" he had given me. Oh yes, he would love to have tomatoes. As I tried, fumblingly, to secure them into his hands, we just looked at each other. Calmly smiling, time stopped, and it was all OK. I learned all I needed to know, at that moment, about acceptance.

Another Jumpin' Flea Convert

Casting it's spell, my little concert ukulele, ropes in another unsuspecting soul. Our House Luthiers, Carole and Forrest are now getting up an order for plans and purfling to make some of these instruments.

"The uke is a noble little instrument. Anyone serious

about music will eventually come to play one."

Bob Brozman

Once Upon A Time.......

there was a lovely little mountain valley with a stream running through it. Blackberries grew luscious in August. The apple trees were hung with fruit most years, and the meadow rang with the sound of fiddles, guitars, and voices for two weeks late in the summer. It all started in 1971 with a woman named Martha. She had a liking for old time music. She and her husband, Red, invited all comers to join them in their little paradise for a bit.

Those who came, played with and for each other, and whoever showed up for the nightly 6PM potluck. From six folks standing around a campfire, it grew to a stage, "Martha's Opry," and some years up to fifty RV's camped there together.

Martha passed away, and Red chose to stay in town for the tirst time this year instead of coming out to the homestead for Camp. Karen and Willie continue the tradition started by their mother.

All sorts of music can be heard in Camp, Bluegrass, Classical, Old Time, Appalachian, Rock, and Blues. The Fish and Game man showed up to count fish in the creek. He had an African Mbira--thumb piano--with him. Now "World" music has also graced the stage at the Warwick Camp Out.

As the years roll on, the faces on the campers change. The campers keep coming. The meadow still rings with music.

This was undoubtedly the cushiest camping ever! The Goddess Gazebo was the hosptality area. The tent was deep within the Black Walnut Glade. A cot with a fine mattress was the ultimate in comfort, AND-- a hot shower was only moments away!!!

DJ came out to play her harmonica on stage. Her son used to play in a band with Willie when it was known as the "Herman Berman Band." Not bad to be approaching 90 yrs. old, and making your musical debut backed by 5 professionals on stage with a complete sound system. Go Girl!And in her OWN words......."Hi Sylvia, I sure had a good time Friday. How more special could it have been?...from scrabble with COMPETITIVE people out to win...to MY last hooraw under a half-full moon in an indescribable woodsy Eden. Maybe that was not my last hooraw. I’m waiting for the public to come seeking my talent. After all how many ninety (almost) year-olds get to draw what could have been their last breath, blowing into a used-to-be $1.00 musical (?) instrument.HONER ..backed by a fiddle, a keyboard, and four or five guitars...on a stage lit and amplified by professionals!"

Karen graced the event by wearing the "royal" hat she carried all the way home from England.

Some of the hours in camp were devoted to the Literary Guild initiated by Connie...formerly a college professor of literature. Her animated selections from Joyce Carole Oates new book were quite riveting.

Nora and Karen declare Monday night Accordian Night.

This was certainly the first time that a Mbira was heard near the East Fork of Williams' Creek. Josh says it will not be the last. He is making plans to return for Camp 2008. He also plays folk blues on his guitar.

Mark sang one of the tunes he particularly favors......"Jesus Talks To Me When I'm Drunk." Dale came down from the Seattle area. He fixes up old violins and gives them away to kids who cannot afford an instrument. He let me play his favorite fiddle. It has something to say about every one of the two hundred years that it has been singing. He is a generous man who easily shares his pleasures.

Bluegrass was on the docket for Saturday night. Some fine close harmony vocals were an added treat to the impeccable instrumental offerings.

Carl and Greg and John were as much fun to watch as they were wonderful to listen to.

Ben has been voted "Mr. Personality" in Camp.

Unique ensembles formed and dispersed on a regular basis.

Even non-musicians find that they can play while at Camp! Miracles are expected and are therefore common. The ukulele is truly the "Instrument of Innocent Merriment."

Karen crafts another memorable Birthday Cake. Els had just returned from a backpack trip in northern California. Looks like the tent was not quite big enough for her AND the bear!

Spike, a bona fide patron of the arts, made the largest contribution to Camp of the year!

"Music will always be with us, from the dawn of time til the end. We draw in the breath of our ancestors, and play the notes that have been sounded millions of times before. The eternal music never stops: it flows through us from generation to generation and connects all people at our most primal level."

Barry Hall ...... from Mud to Music

Better Than A Baptist Love Fest

The Mallard Loop Church of Universal Harmony met at the lake August 10-12. Folks came from at least three states for this annual gathering. There were 40-45 people who sat down together at the groaning tables to celebrate life in general and each other in particular. David gave the blessing, and Robert gave the instruction..."children eat first." This basic tenet assures the long term future of this group. They give the best they have to nourish those who need it most. Amen.

Tony cooked all the meat for the feast. Dennis and Mary maintained the hospitality area.....we all ate and visited mostly at their site. Alecia did the planning and kept everyone up to date with her computer expertise. An event like this could not have happened without many hands pitching in to bring it all off so successfully.

Belated birthdays were celebrated. Chris got her wish for a pecan pie.lPaula dressed up with a little help from her friends.

Dennis, our resident clown--"McDuff," appears to be taking the event quite seriously.

Jim's boys, Reese and Carsten, found no shortage of things to do. There were lots of other kids to play with.

Ready for whatever the day may have in store for us.

Justin, at six plus months, was the youngest camper. Aunt Ginger, at 85, was our oldest. Grandpa and "Mr. Congeniality" greeted the early risers.

Some of us camped at the lake and some were day campers.

The emerald "holy" water of the Illinois now holds not only our children..... but their children also.

The ORIGINAL COUSINS of the Cousins Float

Lathyrus Odorata---------2007

This has been "The Year of the Sweet Pea." They have grown vigorously and continue producing way past their expected--gone with the heat usual habit. They have traveled to friends, neighbors, BD's, weddings, picnics, and even scrabble games. These heirlooms have elegant beauty and superb fragrance. They seem to give all who receive them the same delight they fill me with.

So powerful are these flowers, they can come back as a song after seven or maybe even eight decades. DJ favored us with what she could remember of a song from her childhood

The spot I planted the sweet peas had pole beans last year, and was given lots of rock phosphate. It has shade during parts of the day.....a blessing in our numersous 90 degree plus days.

Some time back the plants started to set seed......they continue to do so now with more enthusiasm. Some seed pods are appearing almost just as the top blossom on a stem opens. I have assiduously been removing the seed pods. Quite a difficult choice, as saving my own seeds would make it not necessary to buy seeds next year. Frugality gets jetisoned when it comes to sweet peas! Hard to hold to my acceptance of "to everything there is a season" when it comes to sweet peas.

The seed package said the vines would grow to 13 feet!!!! No way.....well, now I am adding another string to the support and reaching as high as I can to pick them. Keeping their "feet" cool with alfalfa hay mulch has helped them as has the fact that I fertilize them once a week now. Their stems have shrunk from the 10 inch wonders they were early in the summer to just enough to hold in your hand. The aphids have taken a stand in the patch....not enough to bother anything really. The fragrance of these late season flowers is just as intense as the first ones that bloomed.

These are the hands that Nora says have----"wrought the sweat pea miracle."

SOS......Sisters of the Sage Sojourn at Sheldon

Madelyn and I spent some very enjoyable days out in the Sheldon Antelope Refuge area. We did some exploring also in the Warner Valley and ended up camping the last night out at Cottonwood Lake east of Bly. Previous trips have had us focused on looking down at the rocks. This trip focused us in the opposiste direction. Madelyn moved into her new persona--"Birdwoman." She talked and sang to her people... the birds, and I reverted to my original work of watching the light come and go.



One of the phenomena of desert light? The sunset happens not only in the west. It is a surround you happening.



Camping at Big Springs on the refuge meant coyotes hunting and singing, wild horses coming to water, pelicans, and a magnificent sunset. Just imagine how many times this light show happens a year-- and no one sees it.

We drove the 26 miles to Denio Junction to see if the cell phones would work there?? NO...OK...95 cent connection fee to use our calling cards on the public phone. Meeting this fellow alone was worth the drive. He is the mailman. He drives 240 miles a day from Winnemucca to Denio. He does it 6 days a week. He has been doing it for 45 years....and...he is 83. Junior gets out of the rig (big suburban) 26 times to stuff boxes before he leaves Winnemucca even. He was just stopped to drink his pomegranite tea before heading back south. He and his dog are quite the team. He's an example of the kind of person the northern Great Basin molds.

Bog Hot Spring is just what the name says.............HOT. This time no huge chunk biting deer flies assailed us when we got out there.

The sign as you leave Denio cautions..."No Services...next 81 miles." True story...you plan ahead out here.

The thunderstorm we had produced this double rainbow. Once you have breathed the fragrance of rain soaked sage....you are never the same.

Great neighbors in the campground always enhance the trip. So many times I wanted to grab up the video when someone was sharing some outrageous, inspiring, wonderful, adventure they had had.

Michael rode his bike the 10 miles back from the Royal Peacock mine instead of riding in the motor home on the washboard road.

Robert taking the hiking cat out for a stroll.

The crowd started to gather and we were very curious as to what might be going to happen? OMG .....it's the Schwan ice cream truck. He comes every other Wednesday to the the hot springs. Write it on the calendar..........July 18---plus two weeks--etc.

Ask and ye shall receive.......We actually got "OUR" camp spot under one of the two trees at the campground. Even though there were quite a few people in the campground--early mornings were totally quiet and peaceful. Heaven with the first coffee, a Tuesday Oregonian I splurged on and some cookies...........plus being next to glorious water in the desert.

The main draw at the Virgin Valley is, of course, opals. A couple from Bellingham showed us what they had found last year. It was quite impressive. The price to dig had gone up to $400/day this year, and they did not find near as much material.

Every trip seems to unfold with it's own plan. An unexpected delay of a week was a gift in disguise as it put us into an unusually cool interlude in July in the desert. Mornings and evenings had us in jackets and after the first night just under a sheet....the sleeping bag felt pretty good. It was a great trip....all in all...Madelyn and I agree, "One of the best."

"Remember that the yield of a hard country is a love deeper than a fat and easy land inspires, that throughout the arid West the Americans have found a secret treasure....a stern and desolate country, a high bare country, a country brimming with a beauty not to be found elsewhere."

Bernard DeVoto

The Year of Decision: 1846