Thank you for the comforting comments on my prior post about Copper’s passing. It’s been an emotional week. He was our family for 13 years, so his absence and everything triggers tears and sobs. But the wonderful memories are coming too. Right now, I feel wiped out. Wild emotions for four days can do that (today is day five). Not sure how long this will last, but we’re taking it one day at a time. Anyway, I’m sharing more photos of our beloved Copper Boy from over the years. We have a billion. I think this is therapy for me while living in a deep pit of grief, but someday, the pain will transform into those sweet, precious memories. Copper will always be in our hearts. I’m also turning off comments because I just don’t have the energy. I’m sorry for missing your posts, and I hope you understand, but I hope to be back on board soon. ❤️
Last Sunday we took Copper, our 14 1/2 year old puppy, to our favorite state park. The weather was cool but not freezing, just perfect for a walk among the redwoods. Copper loved walking around, taking in the new sights and smells. He can’t hear anymore, so we use hand signals to communicate with him, and we give him lots of hugs and kisses. I took some pics and sent them to our daughter and son who live in TN. and CO. Then I saw an IG post from my daughter that went straight to my heart. She wrote about living far away from ‘her dog’ and missing him so much. I’m going to share it, then I’m going to add a poem written from Copper’s POV. So, this post is a combination of tears and smiles. I hope you enjoy, and maybe you’ll relate too.
From my daughter:
“It’s weird having a dog or any pet be part of your life for a good amount of time but then you move away. Across the country. And rarely see them anymore. And when you do visit once or twice a year, you’re so excited to see them because you know them, but you wonder if they remember or recognize you. And they look older because you’re older. When we first adopted Copper, I was with him for 6 years and was hesitant on adopting another dog after Lucky Girl passed. And now, I’ve been away from him for that same amount of time that I was with him & it’s sad, bittersweet. He’s still got those same amber eyes you get lost in, but he’s a little grayer than he was the previous year. And you just know the inevitable. It’s weird being so far away & not “growing up” with him into adulthood. But when someone asks if I have a dog, I say yes even though it’s only through pictures my mom sends me. I love this boy so much.” ❤️ (This brought us to tears. We miss her enough, and then to read her feelings about living far from Copper just about did us in! Does this scenario sound familiar?)
And now, let’s wipe away those tears and find a smile:
What a Fun Day! (from Copper’s POV)
Thanks, Mom and Dad, for taking me to the park! I took in all the beauty without one single bark!
Oh, the smells were awesome, and the redwoods so tall! I’m pretty tall myself but I felt very small!
Lifting my leg was fun around new territory, I even inspired Mom to tell my canine story!
We walked by the creek hearing water flowing. You said it was peaceful without any wind blowing.
Then we found a table where you ate your lunch and I gulped down my food with a crunch and a munch!
Naptime followed soon when I plopped down on my bed, with every muscle relaxed I laid down my big head.
I know I’m older now; I don’t move very fast, but I’m glad we came here because I really had a blast!
A note from Copper: I hope you liked this post that my mom and I put together! Can you relate? Do you have a dog or cat that melts your heart and whose eyes see right into your soul like mine do? If you do, let my mom know in the comments. And thanks for coming by today! I hope you don’t mind a slobbery kiss from me! ❤️🐶🐾
Moods that can’t seem to find the light through the darkest shadows can be lifted with blooms of bright yellow like a smile sprinkling cheer into a day washed out in beige.
Last Wednesday morning brought us a stunning sunrise and double rainbow. I wasn’t able to get photos, but a friend of mine grabbed her cell phone and captured these! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Who says miracles don’t happen?
I’m sharing a poem from my recent poetry collection that ties in with the miracles of rainbows:
Darker than the Deepest Sea
Life is like a package wrapped in festive paper. The matching ribbons fascinate in their delicate, entwined company, fingers gently unravel, heartbeats increase from excitement. We lift the lid, peek inside, letting our inner child frolic to the forefront of our minds.
But unlike recyclable paper, the gift of life cannot be tossed back into the universe. There is no spare awaiting on the sidelines, and we should be mindful that the contents require tenderness with instructions solely for each one of us individually, because as visible as a ruby rose in a garden of white daisies… we are beautifully unique.
Once we follow these with gratitude and vivacity, the purpose of our gift will reveal itself as naturally as moonlight on a night darker than the deepest sea. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ When you leave my site today, please remember how precious life is, and how beautiful you are!
And as Maya Angelou said, “Try to be a rainbow in somebody else’s cloud”. ❤️❤️❤️ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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! 🥾❤️😁
Well, the time has come to wrap this series up! I think I’ve milked it, but I hope you’ve enjoyed the journey. It’s quite obvious the delight and reverence we feel while hanging out with nature in all her glory. And I’m surprised with how much writing inspiration came my way. Several poems are waiting in the wings to be polished. But they’ll have their time in the spotlight down the road. Thanks again for following the series. I truly hope you’ve left with meaningful takeaways. If you’ve missed any parts, you can click on each one below: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4. And now for the conclusion…
A Fun Mix of Limericks!
Packing at home
There once was a van named Clay That delightfully came our way Time for outdoors Adventuring in store Exploring, relaxing, and water play!
Leisure comes first on vacation Unplug without hesitation Get inspired to write If inclined, recite Embrace the vital sensation!
From web, Silt Management Supplies LLC
Straw wattles lay around the curve An interesting sight to observe No silt in streams A brilliant means Macro invertebrates preserved!
What a view to embrace upon waking New memories in the making First sip of coffee Not fancy or frothy A moment beyond breathtaking!
A family of feathered friends Swims in sync around the bend Paddling in sunshine An imperfect line Our best wishes to them we send!
We hopped from stone to stone Smooth granite to call our own Gray landscape for rest No thoughts to protest Ready for a reflective zone.
Lake reveals rough waters today No kayaks or paddle boards at play Wind changes plan Grateful for van Inside our shelter we will stay!
A lovely day whispers its farewell Casting over us a wondrous spell A sunset sighs Splendor for the eyes Bringing to a close my show and tell!
“I could not be a poet without the natural world. Someone else could. But not me. For me the door to the woods is the door to the temple.” ~ Mary Oliver
On of our hikes, we discovered a pond, and a fun poem came to mind for Part 2 in my camper van adventure series. If you missed Part 1, you can read it here. Enjoy!
Mr. Frog
I wonder if a frog lives in that pond or a family of three or even beyond.
A green meadow surrounds with evenings of hoots – an enchanting location to plant their roots.
With each step of silence I’m quiet as can be. Mr. Frog, please show your wide eyes to me.
When I was five I found a frog as big as a football but not huge like a hog.
I named him Sam, a fine name for him, but it was a tossup between Sam and Tim.
Now you know the reason I simply love frogs as much as my heart loves all breeds of dogs.
And this is why I wish Mr. Frog would pop up soon to bid me the finest day, and tonight, the brightest moon!
Meet the frog that I named Sam made by my mom when I was a little girl. He is comprised oflove, corduroy, and beans.
It was just another day at the county fair. Everything looked the same. Vendors gathered in their dedicated spots. The music venue sat under the white canopy by the pond that never changes location.
Henna ink has lightened – the faded hummingbird no longer reminds me of Mom, the wolf, incognito, but the memory shines like the glimmering pond…
Chatter and laughter echo around the zooming roller coasters, high-flying swings, and games that will eagerly take your dollar bills. Feathered spectators compete in the distance, but their melodies as faint as clouds drifting in the sky. Soft tacos satisfy our palates under a waterfall of sunshine as we observe parents walking by with their children wearing cotton candy smiles. Nothing brings more joy than cheering on the trio of piglets racing around the track. Their curly tails in view past the finish line!
What a delightful visual the lively grounds present from the revolving Ferris Wheel. I grab my cell for photos of him with the crowd’s energy buzzing in the background. He entertains me with these photo ops, knowing how much I love documenting precious moments. The ride pauses with our bucket at the top while others climb in below for their trip around the moon – our fingertips almost touch the vast blue. I am surprised by the vacancy of butterflies in my stomach.
It was just another day at the county fair. Everything looked the same, except… this day was time spent with my adult son – he would soon embark on a cross-country adventure. So, a Sunday of togetherness while enjoying the county fair landscape proved to be anything but the same, and was indeed different in the very best way – worth more than any materialistic possession I could ever own.
Baydreamer Writes ~ Lauren Scott, Author & Poet 