She

Her beauty
like the rugged hills and icy country draws
is simple, yet resplendent.

Two meadowlarks in a ponderosa pine.
A serpentine sun.
The life trickle of a clear stream.

See the turn in the creek?
Where does it begin and end?
In the field a volunteer sunflower jumps from the soil.
Crack open its stem, smell sky and earth and everything inbetween.

Life is to be noticed.
Sun rising, earth warming
life reaching, breath floating.

Tonight in the garden I think," what if"
and watch the fire lick the smoky air.
The moon looks over all of us.
Tomorrow may she emerge.

Wonders of the heirloom tomato

Last night the sun set tangerine orange. Before Easter we noticed two nights consecutive the moon glow cast the shape of a thick, milky cross. Nature is a glorious beauty.

Today I start my own mini miracles, planting heirloom tomatoes. Their shapes and colors fascinate me.

Just seeds today, some from Gurney's, some from great uncle Bill (one kind known, one kind not). They have great names, like puple cherokee, black krims, and green zebras. These tiny little seeds, sprout up in less than a week. Life begins.

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Today my hands smell like tomatoes. I have dirt under my fingernails. It's May 2nd. I've just repotted 25 healthy plants. I can do 50 more. Where do I put them all? After I planted them, I bought special flourescent lights. The guy at the hardware store said he figured I was planting "something else."

The garden is a living, breathing reminder of life and death. From the birth of spring to the adolesense of June to the maturity of August, our hopes rise with the days. We nurture this life the best we can. Most of the time that is enough.

I have only to be reminded of the beauty--their beauty--to know the wait and the journey are worth the sacrifice.

Double Ditch ice jam

Fox Island ice jam

August

This day begins
where the matted deer path wanders into the trees.
Russian Olives shape a thorny moat
dare you enter.

Inside rows of thickets and tall grasses tangle.
Columns of plum trees--fruit green for the season,
chokecherry, buffalo berry and a ripe red early berry
nourish the souless.

Follow along well worn friend,
smell the pine-shadows and junegrass.

Sun spills over tattered earth
from bark branched skeletons
deflecting light.

Silent feathered phantoms speed ahead.
A buck beds down in nature's grandfatherly lap.

This path curves gently
no need for map or compass.

The only questions to this life--
where do you emerge,
and does it matter?

Title: August, Mary Oliver
American Primitive
"In the dark creeks that run by there is this thick paw of my life darting among the black bells, the leaves; there is this happy tongue."

Dreaming of Medora

Wade Westin

Friday a friend to all he met passed away at the much too early age of 34.
You likely knew Wade Westin from the Medora Musical.
Music was a passion. So was family, and North Dakota.
He was a Burning Hills singer for five years. Then he served as host for two years--known fittingly as Gentleman Wade.
Most recently he's held the position of marketing and public relations coordinator for the Theodore Roosevelt Medora Foundation.
But its Wade's character--his kindness, integrity, and class that live on in all who knew him.
He was a spokesman for our state--especially Medora and the magnificent badlands.
He made it a point to live here--and raise his family here.
I was struck by an article written about Wade in North Dakota Business Watch. Someone told him how nice his grandpa was. Wade says he thought--forget fame and fortune, that's how I want to be remembered...as a nice person. Mission accomplished. I know of no finer man.
Our nations second president shares Wade's view of life. John Adams wrote that he recognized at an early age that happiness came not from fame and fortune, "and all such things," but from "an habitual contempt of them."
I got to know Wade through numerous stories and interviews. I had the priviledge of mountain biking with him in the badlands and golfing Bully Pulpit.
Many of us at KX new Wade well. Marci Narum says she'll remember his smile, his warmth--and unassuming charm.
Lauren Kalberer remembers him as caring, kind, and giving.
It didn't matter if you knew him for five minutes or 5 years--in all cases he was genuine.
Brad Feldman remembers a meeting he had with Wade this last August. After the cameras were off Wade took the time out of his hectic schedule to just talk and ask how things were going. He genuinely cared about everyone he met.
Juan Thomas says he was warmhearted and caring. Amen.
Wade's funeral is scheduled for Wednesday morning at 10:30am at Good Shepherd Lutheran Church.
We already miss you, Wade.
Your wife and children, and families are in our prayers
In the same spirit that you celebrated North Dakota, we honor your life.
Happy Trails.