September

Splash of red on green

Dogwood and Sourwood color

September hills.

Bill and I made an RV trip last week to Roan Mountain State Park in upper East Tennessee. The weather was perfect for our goal: hike a ways on the AT along the high ridge balds, starting at Carver's Gap. The pictures below are just a few of the many I took of the breathtaking views. This is about as good as it gets in the East.

Our starting point

The ridges go on forever it seems

Goal #1 achieved, Jane Bald, 5807 ft

Grassy Ridge trail spits off the AT. We decide to press up Grassy Ridge

Looking back at Round Bald, 5826 ft, the first high point on the hike. We have to go back up before we are done.

That little path is part of the AT

Taking a break before finishing the climb.Views in every direction.

We made it to the top of Grassy Ridge, about 6000 ft and 2 miles from Carver's Gap.

August Garden

August harvest speaks

In leaf and vine, flower and fruit

Its own color poem.

My august garden is not as prolific as it was in June and July, but it is still supplying us with fresh produce regularly. Fall greens have sprouted, and I'm looking forward to watching them grow.

BB King at Club Ebony

Brother Park accompanied me to Club Ebony in Indianola, MS, last night (8/22) to see and hear BB King and to experience the historic night club. It did not disappoint! We arrived after 8 pm and listened to the warm-up Mickey Rodgers Band while the seats gradually filled. BB King and his band got started around 11 pm and WOW! He still has the touch and his band is superb, playing a very upbeat version of blues. They were still going strong and the crowd was still loving it when we left. I am sharing just a few of my iPhone images below. For more information, explore the links below.
http://www.bbkingmuseum.org/
http://www.visitthedelta.com/explore_our_region/indianola.aspx

Bread of Life

Bread of Life sustains,

Nurtures body and spirit.

Living Holy Bread.

Bill and I spent a lovely morning fishing and kayaking on Melton Hill Lake last week. He caught most of the fish which we enjoyed for supper.

Fishing Buddy

Good Catch

Sunflower

I haven't visited my blog in several weeks. Summer is a busy time for a country girl, tending the garden, picking the produce, canning green beans and tomatoes, making jam. It is also a time for playing outside, not sitting indoors at the computer. The last couple of weeks in the garden, with sunflowers blooming, have brought lyrics from the old gospel to my mind: "When I fall on my knees with my face to the rising sun, Oh, Lord, have mercy on me." In my heart is thanksgiving, praise and a plea for mercy.

Faces lifted up

Seeking energy, power,

Sun (Son), Source of life.

Another recent meditation theme from "Alive Now" online was deserted places. My thoughts:

Alone with Spirit

Renewed in meditation

Sometimes just alone.

A deserted place can be a refuge from the business o f the world; a place for gaining sustenance and gathering strength; a place eagerly sought and hard to find.

A deserted place can also be where we find ourselves alone, friendless, abandoned, frightened, without the resources we need to live.

To intentionally find my deserted places brings us peace that can help me in the times when the deserted places find me.

Remembering My Father

Remembering My Father: John Park Taylor, Sr. (1928 - 2001)

John Park Taylor and Clara Nelle Westmoreland, Dec 18, 1949

John Park, Jane Clark, Melanie and Clara Nelle, 1958

John Park's 70th Birthday, 1988

Driving through the Mississippi Delta farmland last week brought memories of my father. He loved the flat Delta land - heat, humidity, floods, drought, bugs and all. Our farm was 500+ acres of cotton, soybeans, rice and later catfish. He used the land as a steward and taught me so much. I cannot ride through any farm country today with composing a report to Daddy in my head. He will want to know what is growing, how is it faring, is the land wet or dry, is it well tended. Of the many life lessons from my father, the one I think of most that was uniquely his, is to look carefully, listen, and pay attention to the world around me. He passed on to me his love for the environment and his desire to take care of it. He loved to “ride down the road” and see what was happening. To the uninitiated, it might seem that nothing was happening on that flat empty land. He would stop and ask me “what do you see?” or “what do you hear?” He taught me to look closely for subtle variations in the landscape or plant growth. He taught me to listen for the birds, the breeze, even the hum of the electrical lines. He taught me to smell the rain coming or the pungent odor of the rice growing. He took me to the woods in the fall and winter to hunt, sometimes on horseback, sometimes on foot. He taught me to walk gently and quietly, to be attentive for snakes and to handle weapons respectfully. For us hunting was just that - the thrill of finding the signs left by the game, tracking, thinking ahead to where it might be going so as to cut it off. I don’t remember that we killed anything and rarely took a shot. The hunt was the thing. The life lesson was to look, listen and walk gently on the earth. Thank you, Daddy.

Daddy and Son, 1964

Toasting my marriage, Nov 4, 1972

One Minute Meditation - Birdsong and Rainfall

Gentle rain falling

Softly lifts me from night's rest

Restores my gardens.