Leaving on a jet plane…

Dear Friends,

Matt and I are flying out tomorrow to visit our son, so I’ll be offline until sometime next week. Visiting our daughter and son is by far the best vacation. I don’t like missing posts, but there are times like this that it’s unavoidable. Please know that I appreciate you and your wonderful support throughout my Copper journey, and blogging journey, in general. WordPress tells me it’s been 15 years! But that’ll be another post! 🙂 Anyway, stay safe, and keep your creativity flowing. I’ve turned off comments, but I’ll see you next week!

I thought it would be nice to leave you with a few calming visuals…

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© Lauren Scott, Baydreamerwrites.com
This blog content cannot be used to train AI.

Click on my daughter’s image to order your copy! 🧡

Lauren Scott

Author – King Copper: Our dog’s life in poetry
Author – Cora’s Quest (a children’s book)
Author – Ever So Gently: A Collection of Poetry
Author – More than Coffee: Memories of Verse and Prose
Author – Finding a Balance: A Collection of Poetry
Author – New Day, New Dreams: A Collection of Poetry
Co-Author – Tranquility: An Anthology of Haiku
Co-Author – Petals of Haiku: An Anthology
Co-Author – This Is How We Grow
Co-Author – Poetry Treasures 2: Relationships
Bi-Monthly Contributor on Gobblers by Masticadores
Spillwords Author of the Month May 2023
Spillwords Publication of the Month October 2024
Spillwords Publication of the Month June 2025

Nature’s TV – Friday’s Poetry

These are photos from past lake camping & backpacking trips. Beauty at its best, don’t you agree? We plan to get back to the lake next summer, but we had to pass this year because our favorite campground is being renovated. Poetic thoughts spill out from things I see, emotions, events, family, and nature. Nature always inspires.
So, won’t you join me at the lake? Have a seat, sip something cold, and simply ‘be.’

Nature’s TV

A moment to reflect
lake glimmers

in sunshine’s embrace
ripples shimmy across surface
dragonflies soar like mini gliders

feathered friends paddle away
after a brief “hello”
muscles and mind feel gratitude

no screen of any size
only Nature’s TV

I hope you enjoyed your time at the lake. Thank you for joining me!
Happy Friday, and I wish you a tranquil weekend. 💚

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© Lauren Scott, Baydreamerwrites.com
This blog content cannot be used to train AI.

Click on the image to order your copy! 🧡

Dreams and Bucket Lists!

A painting of our little, cozy cabin

Backpacking never entered my mind. When I was a young girl, summers and winters were spent at our cabin in Big Bear, CA. It wasn’t fancy, but cute and cozy nestled among sugar pines on a huge, corner lot. In the summer, we spent time swimming in the lake, but right in our backyard we played badminton, watching those birdies fly over the net. When snow blanketed the ground, we pulled the toboggan out and slid down the hills. Squeals of joy whirled around the trees!

I didn’t learn about pitching a tent until Matt and I met and married in our late twenties (almost 36 years ago). He had already embarked on several backpacking adventures. But the idea never appealed to me, and yet, after he started taking me camping, my love for the outdoors blossomed. I didn’t mind getting dirty or sleeping in a tent. One of my rules, though, was ensuring the tent stayed zipped up so that bugs of all species (especially, spiders) remained outside where they belonged. And of course, Matt didn’t want to sleep with bugs either!

When our daughter and son each turned one year old, they became our little campers. Was it easy? Not in the least with packing a highchair, port-o-crib, diapers, etc., but looking back at those precious photos makes the hassle worthwhile. Their imaginations ran wild as they played around the campsites, and it was special to witness. Matt felt they were old enough to backpack when our daughter was seven and our son was four. At the very mention of the idea to them, their excitement bounced off the walls! They were eager to get a pack on their back and hike on the trail like daddy!

“Young Campers”

They amble through the African savannah,
eyes alert, keeping watch for big animals
seeking out their next meal.
But their excitement soars
because they want to see the
beautiful creatures.
Suddenly, a thunder-booming growl
echoes throughout the grassland!
Their feet become blocks of cement,
stopping in their tracks,
as fear creeps up their necks!
Terror escalates as they hold their breath!
Legs shake like trees from an
angry gust of wind.
Any sound could be the end!

Then Mom yells, “Lunch is ready!”
Fear subsides, and their adventure halts.

Until tomorrow …
when their imaginations come alive again.


(From my book, Ever So Gently)

So, the tradition began and continued for several years, taking them to the Sierra mountains, and locally, Point Reyes National Seashore. During these times when my family was away, I’d get together with some girlfriends for a ‘girl’ weekend. It was a win-win! Now as adults, they thank their dad for showing them the beauty of the wilderness and for those wonderful memories.

Then one morning in my mid-fifties, I woke up with an epiphany! I was ready to backpack! I wanted to write stories from my own experiences. I loved listening to Matt’s tales with the kids, but the desire escalated to get a pack on my back. Matt was elated that his wife would join him on the trail! We soon headed for the Sierra Mountains, several years in a row. Up and down hills, carrying that pack, wearing the sunhat, using walking sticks when needed. There was always a lake to fall into once we had discarded the pack and set up our wilderness home. And there is something surreal and profound about carrying all you need on your back. What an experience! The shimmering lakes, trails, nature surrounding us with her critters and sounds, vivid sunsets, and oh, the memories made!

Our first trip to Shealor Lake – one of my favorite photos!
Heading to Spider Lake, 5 miles up hill,
and no spiders were seen on this trip.
Matt in the moment with all the gear!
One of many miracles we witnessed!

After reading the book, Wild, by Cheryl Strayed, and then watching the movie starring Reese Witherspoon, a dream of hiking on the Pacific Crest Trail wiggled its way into my mind. This dream has been diligent in holding its place until I make it a reality. We haven’t hiked the PCT, yet, because returning to our favorite lake each year seemed to have had a magnetic effect. But now in our early sixties, the dream still wiggles! Are we too old? From what I’ve read, people of all ages hike in general, let alone, hike the PCT, so we’re not old at all. But in spring of last year, my health took a turn…

I wasn’t able to walk two houses down our block without pain. It’s been a challenging year, but the reader’s digest version is that I’m doing much better! Since the spring, I’ve been able to hike again pain-free. Thus, my recovery and learning how to manage an incurable but treatable diagnosis has woken up my dream from a long repose. One caveat from my doctor is that bearing weight on my back as in wearing a backpack isn’t advisable. However, to remedy this, Matt would carry more, but we’d both really pare down to go lighter than in past years. And a side-note…I don’t care about the distance I hike on the PCT, whether it’s one, two, or twenty miles – I just want to be able to say, “I hiked the PCT!” Consequently, we’re gearing up for 2026! I only pray that good health sustains for both of us to bring this dream to fruition.

From the web. It’s good to keep a visual for perspective
and motivation.

“If one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.”
~ Henry David Thoreau

Have you backpacked? What’s on your bucket list?

CHEERS TO DREAMS, BUCKET LISTS, AND TO GETTING ON THE TRAIL! 🥾❤️😁

Lauren Scott, Baydreamerwrites ©2024 – All rights reserved.

Website: baydreamerwrites.com
Author Of The Month, May 2023 Spillwords Press
Monthly Contributor, Gobbers-Masticadores Literary Website
Amazon Author Page https://www.amazon.com/~/e/B08NCRH4MK
Author Latest Release Ever So Gently: A Collection of Poems
Author, More than Coffee: Memories in Verse and Prose
Author, Finding a Balance: A Collection of Poems
Author, New Day, New Dreams: A Poetry Collection
Co-Author, Petals of Haiku
Co-Author, This is How We Grow
Co-Author, Poetry Treasures 2: Relationships
Cora’s Quest, A children’s book, coming this fall!

Click on the image
to purchase your copy. 
Thank you! 🧡

July 5 – Journal Entry

Dear Family and Friends,

What I’m posting today is not something I normally share. Maybe some will think this isn’t a good idea. There is no poem or fiction story. I’m sharing something personal but definitely not for sympathy. More for a cathartic purpose, a release, and maybe, hopefully, one of you will be able to shed some light for me. This is kind of long, so I understand if you don’t have time to read. But if you do, and you have knowledge of what I’m talking about, I’d be grateful to read your comments. By the way, I may regret posting this, so it could end up deleted.

Dear Journal,

They say that writing is therapeutic, so here goes…

Over two months ago, I started experiencing a lightning bolt jolt of pain through my right heel. The pain came in spurts, any time, any level of pain, and any frequency. They’d last only for seconds. Some jolts were mild, some were moderate, but one Thursday, the jolts began with my morning coffee around 5:30 am and continued throughout the day until around 1:30 pm when they finally mellowed. They came in series of 7 or 8 jolts every twenty minutes or so, Boom! Boom! Boom! One after the other with the intensity I have never felt before until this day. The jolts were debilitating. I stayed home from work, and admittedly, I was in tears and my nerves were on edge. I tried to stay calm, but calm was difficult to attain. I began to anticipate the jolts, which paralyzed me from doing anything, reading, writing, even blogging. The degree of this level of heel pain was new, so I emailed my doctor, and she ordered x-rays.

I had to get these x-rays done on this day when the jolts were at their strongest degree of pain, which honestly, felt like an 11! But I was afraid to drive because with this pain being in my right foot, my accelerating and braking foot, I feared a strong jolt would occur while driving, causing me to have a knee-jerk reaction, and who knows what would happen. So, my husband took me to get x-rays. The next day, my doctor said that the results indicated a heel bursa. I didn’t think so. Years ago, I had an irritated bursa in my hip, which went away over time, and this felt more ‘nervy.’ And her assumption didn’t even match the medical results I read on my medical online account that I couldn’t quite decode. She referred me to a podiatry specialist.

My podiatrist said that it wasn’t a bursa, and after tapping my heel and listening to my symptoms, here’s what he said, “I really don’t know what this is.” It’s not Planter Fasciitis or Neuropathy. I was praying for a diagnosis, cause, and treatment, so these words were beyond disheartening. By this time, I had been wearing Hoka tennis shoes and heel cups (never heard of them before) for a few weeks, creating more support for my foot. He said to continue wearing them, rest, and ice, but he was going to refer me to neurology to have my nerves tested. When he described the process for that, I almost passed out. By the way, am I the first person to tell him about this kind of heel pain? I find that hard to believe. How could he not have any idea?

Then after hearing my case, neurology told him that it wasn’t necessary for me to have a consultation with them. My podiatrist labeled my condition as Baxters Neuritis and prescribed Gabapentin to mitigate the pain and to be taken each night, low dosage. A tiny part of me thinks he’s reaching for a label to appease me because when I Googled Baxters Neuritis (of course, I did), the symptoms didn’t align with mine. Maybe cases vary, I don’t know.

So, fast forward three weeks, and I’ve been living in Hokas (now have 3 pair: white, black, and bright blue), except for sleeping and showering. Luckily, I’ve had several pain-free or I should say, jolt-free days, and 1 jolt on other days. None at night, so I’ve been able to sleep. Because the intense pain never visited again, I have not taken the meds. I’ll take them if I need them. The lessening pain has me feeling hopeful.

With all this said, I know most of us deal with some kind of pain. Pain that will fade over time, heal with Motrin or other meds. Some people are handed a life and death diagnosis. This is not life or death. But because it’s nerve related, it may be chronic, and because it’s in my foot, it impacts my ability to walk Copper, our lab, to walk for exercise, and simply to walk from the front door to my car, or at work, or from my car to the grocery store, let alone through the store.

This random, bizarre, unpredictable pain impacts my life with my husband, our love for hiking and backpacking. We have a trip planned in August, in six weeks. If you asked me today if I could do it, I’d say no, because I’m limiting time on my feet to hopefully rest the nerve, and dare I say, heal? I can’t even walk around the block, and I don’t know if this will ever heal. And this thought breaks my heart because I feel like I’m breaking my husband’s heart. Now in our early sixties, we want to hike and backpack for as long as we can. And if we had to stop now, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. We could still camp. I can function – the bright side. And of course, he doesn’t see it as me breaking his heart. He feels helpless when I’m in pain, and since my tolerance is pretty high, he knows when I’m truly hurting. Of course, he’d be disappointed if we couldn’t hike or backpack again, but he cares about me first and foremost. Just so you know. But I look at the big picture and feel like a burden. I really do. I’m aware of my foot every day, sounds funny, doesn’t it? But really, I’m babying it, handling that nerve with kid gloves.

Yesterday, July 4th, was an anomaly. I had three series of jolts throughout the day. I analyzed and asked, “Why?” I’m wearing good shoes, walking less, icing, resting…but I am living, so I am walking, just not as much. I’m not sitting on my butt. I’m still working, and I’ve walked Copper, but the walks have been truncated. Fortunately, he’s older now, so he’s just happy to get out and sniff and pee. But just when I was feeling hopeful, I felt like I took five steps backward yesterday.

Anyway, I’ve tried to keep a positive mindset. On the pain-free days, I am grateful. And when just one jolt comes and it’s mild, I am grateful. But it’s not only the intense pain that is paralyzing, it’s the “Why?” when I’ve been doing everything I should be doing. And then, it’s the anticipating for another jolt to follow, until I do some deep breathing and move on with whatever I’m doing at the time.

Miracles happen, right? Well, I’m also realistic. And this isn’t life and death, but even though it’s not, it’s impactful to me, to my husband, to my dog, and to my future. Our feet are necessary for everyday tasks. If it sounds like I’m whining, please forgive me. Please understand whining about poor me is not my intention. Writing about this is therapy. I’m not one to complain, and I’m compassionate for those in worse, worse, situations. But this is my new pain, my new change, and that shouldn’t be negated either. I continue to take one day at a time, pray for a pain-free day, and deep breathe when necessary, and hope for a miracle. But if that miracle isn’t meant to be, then I’ll have to modify my activities. My husband and I will have to make changes. I just bought an exercise bike (cheaper than a pool because swimming is good exercise), so hubby and I will set that up this week. An option. Moving forward. The only option is to move forward.

Thank you for stopping by. Thank you for reading if you had the time. This is raw writing, no editing, so if you see mistakes, please forgive those, too.
With love, Lauren ❤️

© Lauren Scott, Baydreamerwrites.com – All rights reserved.

The Blue Down Jacket

The radio belted out “Joy to the World!”
You were a teenage boy, but on this
Christmas morning in ‘75, excitement
buzzed! Your dad watched and listened,
relaxed in his corner chair, but your mom
played Santa, just as jolly! The first time
we met. Do you remember?

You and your dad hiked Half Dome that year,
then…the many trips we booked…
those rocky inclines had my sleeves shaking!
Hiking to Italy Pass, 12,000 feet at the top!
We did it! Trekking through the Trinity Alps,
Thousand Island Lake in the Sierra.
And Mount Shasta!
I kept you warm when the air was ice.

What a team we made, and I couldn’t believe
how beautiful the world could be…

Then with the years your adolescence faded like
my blue dye, but I stayed loyal. Why wouldn’t I?
You are my brother, even still, all grown up
with a family of your own.

Lucky is what I feel because ages ago, I thought
I’d be buried beneath piles of clothes at the bottom
of a bag to be given away.
But mostly, I feel privileged for my significance.
I recall her vividly.
She left this world too young, too soon.

You see, when we hang out,
your memories transport you
to that morning when her laughter was music,
her smile was sunlight,
her energy as vibrant as “Joy to the World.”
You travel to the special place in your mind
when your mom was still in your life.

© Lauren Scott, Baydreamerwrites.com – All rights reserved.
My husband’s loyal blue down jacket. ❤️

Beneath the Big, Golden Sun

He was their hero when they were young,

teaching of nature beneath the big golden sun.

They tried on their packs before feet hit the trail.

He’d say, “Be prepared or else you could fail.”

The trio trekked down paths and up inclines, too,

pausing along the way to admire a flower or two.

After arriving in camp, they helped pitch the tent,

stakes in the ground, windows unzipped to vent.

As an Arborist, he educated them about trees

under the blue sky beside the buzzing honeybees.

He pointed out poison oak, a beautiful, green leaf,

“But if you touch, you’ll need itching relief!”

They explored the ground seeking burrowing bugs.

He expressed praise with words and loving hugs.

When the sun faded at the end of a day,

they roasted marshmallows, found dominoes to play.

His first goal was fun in nature, then came self-reliance.

Their minds were like sponges, soaking up the science.

Now they reminisce for the best teacher he was

and recall the bonding with the deepest of love.

Now he’s proud of them, adulting and doing it well,

honored with the memories, the special stories to tell.

© Lauren Scott, baydreamerwrites.com – All rights reserved.

Touching, Funny, and Reflective…

I just found this latest, wonderful review for my book, More than Coffee: Memories in Verse and Prose, and of course, I have to share! I’ve heard that book reviews are like hugs for indie authors, so hug away!! Trish’s review may be short, but it’s very sweet, packed with all good things to say!

MacTrish gives More than Coffee 5 stars:

Touching, funny, and reflective:

This volume is a delightful collection of observations about life and of the small, ordinary things viewed through fresh eyes. Some of the stories and poems made me chuckle, others were reflective and some were poignant and moving. This is one of those selections that is perfect for dipping into when the mood takes you. (If you’re an arachnophobe, you’ll enjoy Laughing Spiders!)

I am thrilled that another reader enjoyed my memories and the messages they conveyed. So, again, a Big Thanks to all of you who have bought a copy and indulged in a cup of coffee (or your favorite beverage) while dipping into my memories, some funny, and others reflective and moving like Trish mentioned).
And if you haven’t written a review, there is always time (but please, no pressure from me.) 🥰

One of the poems from my book:

Red Lipstick

With childlike fascination,
I leaned against the door frame
watching her apply a little
powder to her nose,
a touch of red to her lips.
No more, no less. She was flawless.
Then our eyes locked –
an unspoken connection.
Questions never-ending,
I gently tucked her wisdom
in a safe space where I could
draw from it easily.
I’d love to share tales
of life she’s missing.
Perhaps, again someday.

Extract from Laughing Spiders:

Mornings began to fuel unfamiliar anxiety as spider social calls manifested soon after the crack of dawn. The sun brightened the sky and another high school day was on the horizon. I grabbed a towel to dry off after showering when I felt something unnatural. Looking down, I watched in horror as a brown spider scuttled across my chest. I jumped, avoiding a nasty fall in the tub, and brushed the spider off not caring where it landed. I just wanted it off my skin.

These creepy-crawlies seemingly watched for me so they could plan their next prank. During another shower with my head full of shampoo suds, I spotted a black spider near my feet. The dance I did wasn’t a happy one. With a swish here and there, my foot managed to nudge the scary intruder down the drain with ripples of water, as I imagined it whirling into the dark depth of the water system. I quickly rinsed the suds out. Just as I felt calm run through my body, I looked down and saw that damn spider climbing out of the drain. This could only happen to me.

Extract from Ascent:

When we reached the top and I looked down that sleek granite dome, I was amazed at what I had achieved. Never underestimate our abilities. On the other side of the dome, Shealor Lake was in full view. We gave our legs a short rest, drank some water, then headed downhill with the enticing pull of the lake’s beauty. As we neared the bottom, my emotions ran wild. I was relieved that we finally made it, but a sudden wave of grief washed over me. We removed our packs and sat on a log for a time-out. I was so overwhelmed that the tears found freedom. I didn’t fight them. I cried for the loss of Dad. I cried for having completed this hike that I didn’t think I was capable of. I would’ve backed out graciously had I known the details.

After a few minutes, I composed myself and looked to the lake. The water, a jeweled phenomenon. It sparkled, inviting us for a swim. While we set up our back-country camp, the orange-hot sun blazed down on us as if we had drastically turned up the thermostat, so the cool lake water soothed our sun-kissed skin. The fact that we were all alone in this canyon full of forest and smooth granite was beyond welcoming. The tranquility offered me the chance to reminisce about Dad and my parents together. The solitude afforded a perfect destination to grieve, think, remember, and cry. Mourning the loss of one parent was difficult enough but losing both felt surreal – a new stage of life had begun.

If you’d like to purchase a copy, just click on “Buy on Amazon” below, and by the way, the holidays just happen to be around the corner in case you know of someone who may just want or need a gentle read. 💜


Thanks for stopping by, and whenever you do,
I hope you find something significant to take away. ❤️

© Lauren Scott, baydreamerwrites.com – All rights reserved.

“Life is not measured…”

We’re going on another wilderness adventure, so technology will stay at home, except for my cell phone for taking a million photos. 🙂 I’m leaving you with one of my favorite Maya Angelou quotes, and this photo was taken at Crater Lake in Oregon.

Wishing you all a fabulous week and I’ll see you when I return. I’ll also add a Big Thank You for all your visits and support!

Stay safe and Be happy,
Lauren Scott
© ❤️