Tag: Independence Day

Carousel Questions

Carousel5_063020

Carved and colossal, how long will you stand in shiny, sterile silence?

Round and repeating, what has happened to your cotton-candy companions?

Merry and mighty, what will become of your wheel of carefree independence?

***

On this Independence Day holiday weekend in the United States, we have so many hot spots. So many worries. So many questions. So few answers. One thing is certain. We’re better off  celebrating this Fourth of July safely and quietly at home.

If you find yourself feeling queasy from news reports, missing the carousels of life or in need of a little inspiration, consider getting lost in a true story of reflection, hope and survival.

From July 3 through July 7, you can download a Kindle version of my latest book, An Unobstructed View, on Amazon for just ninety-nine cents.

Stay well, my friends!

The Boxer and the Theatre of the Mind

Normally, I feature a photo to illustrate the gist of my story. But, for reasons you’ll soon discover, I’m going to ask you to maximize your imagination, explore the theatre of the mind, and form your own visual conclusions.

***

Another warm Wednesday. Another morning at the gym. Another forty-five minute cardio workout–a climb on the treadmill, a circuit of light weights, and a ringside seat on a stationary bike.

I say ringside, because at Club SAR in Scottsdale the bikes are all clustered around a boxing ring in the center of the gym … with a few punching bags positioned on the floor just outside the ring.

Today, there was nothing happening in the ring, but something remarkable outside it captured my attention. Something heart-warming and inspiring too. Two gray-haired gentlemen–one likely in his sixties, the other in his eighties–entered the space. Conceivably, the younger man may have been a coach, a son, a younger brother, a partner to the older man. I’ll never know. I simply observed him helping his older cohort slip on a pair of boxing gloves.

He carefully guided the frail older man and positioned him in front of one of the punching bags. That’s when the older man–wearing an American-flag T-shirt, shin-length compression socks and black athletic shoes–proceeded to pound at the bag for the next minute or so. After he was through, he rested against the side of the ring for a minute or two. Then, his friend guided him back for round two.

Maybe you’ve already figured out the punch line (pun intended). The old, patriotic boxer is blind. I don’t know what he remembers seeing earlier in his life … or for that matter if he’s ever seen at all. But what I saw today–on the day before Independence Day in Scottsdale, Arizona–was love, strength, courage and tenacity. And I was grateful to have witnessed all of it.

As you were reading this story, what did you see?

 

 

 

July in Arizona’s Sonoran Desert

OurHome_070119 004.JPG

It was about 90 degrees at 7 o’clock when I grabbed my broad-brimmed hat, a tall bottle of water, and a cool, damp towel to cover the back of my neck. My husband and I were heading to Vista del Camino Park for our early morning walk before the temperatures escalated past 100. Such is life in July in Arizona’s Sonoran Desert.

The elephant foot succulents on the north side of our condo don’t seem to mind. They are coping just fine. Under the eaves. Resting in the shade most of the day. We decided to move our container of gladiolas next to them. They were getting torched on the south side in the all-day sun. Maybe the American flags will help boost their spirits as Independence Day approaches.

I’ve learned to accept and adapt to July’s torrid temperatures here … since that day nearly two years ago when I survived to tell the story of An Unobstructed View. As long as you keep a ready supply of water nearby and stay indoors during the spike in the afternoon heat, it’s manageable.

This year we’ve planned a few strategic July escapes, as well.  One to the stunning red rocks of Sedona a few hours north. Another further up Interstate 17 into the fragrant, tall pines and mountains of Flagstaff, where the air is thinner and the temperatures are twenty-five degrees cooler.

Truly, life in Arizona is a story of extremes … and remarkable beauty.