Fire and Dust

Wednesday evening, I was sitting in my living room working on my laptop when I looked out the window and saw that the sky was on fire (this amazing sunset).  I grabbed my camera and went outside to capture the loveliness.  It was beastly hot (over 100 degrees, I'm sure) even though it was already 7:45 in the evening.  I decided to go for a quick walk to the field on the other side of the houses to get a better view of the sky.

The further I went on my walk, the more beautiful the sky became.

When I got to the end of the apartments, however, and looked across the street to the golf course there (to the east), the sky looked quite different--angry, in fact.  And dirty.  I quickly realized that I was about to experience my first haboob in person.  Never mind that a year ago I had never even heard of such a thing.  Now, I was going to be smack dab in the middle of one!

That wall of dirt was literally rolling down the road, through the golf course and coming straight for me!

I looked back to my right (to the west) and saw the beautiful sunset still going on, although it was fading somewhat as the dust began rolling in.

Looking back to my left, I saw that the haboob was approaching the mountain that is on the far side of the golf course.

I was fascinated by how fast this thing was moving, and how clearly I could see it.

Within minutes it was engulfing the mountain. . .

. . . and obliterating it!

 At its peak, I could barely see the mountain.










Meanwhile, the dust had also taken out the sunset.  By this time, I was back where I'd started, a mere 10 minutes earlier (I didn't want to disappear myself into the dust.  As it was, I had inhaled a fair amount of it.).  I can honestly say, I have never seen anything like this...but it will probably not be the last time.

Wonder-full Wedding

My niece got married on Sunday.  It was a mist-filled, wonder-full day.  The wedding took place in a garden on the North Shore of Massachusetts, so the weather was a concern.  With temperatures 20 degrees lower than normal and intermittent rain throughout the weekend, the outdoor ceremony was in doubt.  But the father of the bride said "No.  My daughter wanted a garden wedding, and that's what she's going to have."  And so she did.  It was beautiful.  Just beautiful.

I put together the readings for the ceremony.  A pastor-relative and I read the selections from literature and the Bible.  We've done readings together before and do well together.  I chose selections from Robert Louis Stevenson, Maya Angelou, Thomas a Kempis, George Eliot, the Bible, and Pablo Neruda. His Sonnet LXIX was my favorite of all:

Maybe nothingness is to be without your presence, 

without you moving, slicing the noon
like a blue flower, without you walking
later through the fog and the cobbles,
without the light you carry in your hand,
golden, which maybe others will not see,

which maybe no one knew was growing 

like the red beginnings of a rose.

In short, without your presence:  without your coming

suddenly, incitingly, to know my life,

gust of a rosebush wheat of wind:

since then I am because you are,

since then you are, I am, we are,

and through love I will be, you will be, we'll be.

 

 

Desert Wildflowers · 365 Project

Desert Wildflowers by Rondi Aastrup · 365 Project

I went to the Phoenix Desert Botanical Gardens this several weeks ago with my friend Jill and her two girls.  We had a great time.  We saw wildflowers, birds, animals, butterflies, and--of course--cactus!  I guess I didn't post the entry, though, because I just found it in my draft folder.  Enjoy the sights:

Come and Gone

Years ago, I wrote down a quote in my journal that said something like "Some people come into our lives and quickly go.  Some stay for awhile, leave footprints on our hearts, and we are never, ever the same."  I think it was one of those Flavia cards that were popular way back when, but I feel like I'm only just now experiencing it.  Truth is, I've been there before, but not recently.  It's a very bittersweet feeling...


Graduation weekend has come and gone...and so have the seniors.  Last year, I didn't know them well enough after only a year of mostly trying to figure everything else out.  But this year, it was rather overwhelming.  Some of them have confided so much in me this year.  I knew them pretty well by the end of the year.  They asked me to be one of the speakers for their weekend, and I was honored to do so, but that talk was the hardest I've ever given.  The weight of it was at times so heavy that I could hardly move.  It finally came together . . . about an hour before I had to give it.  Felt good, though.  Felt right.


There were a lot of hugs and tears after the Commencement.  Since I teach at a boarding school, some of the kids had been together 40 out of the past 48 months, 24/7.  The knowledge that that time was over was almost impossible for them to deal with.  They were glad to be graduating, but did not want to leave the security of their friends.  I went home and tried to digest it all, but there was too much.


It was my birthday, too, and the class gave me a dozen roses.  One of the first boys I met when I arrived on campus last year introduced me before I spoke.  He told the story of helping me to move into my apartment and there were seemingly endless boxes of books.  "What must this woman wear," he asked himself.  "She has no clothes, only books!"  Made me laugh, because the truth is I have a lot of books, but also clothes...


So now they're gone.  And I, too, will be gone for the summer (mostly).  When I come back, there will be others to step in and leave footprints on my heart.  Yet another reason I teach.........

Best and Worst of Times

This is the moon of a few weeks ago...the biggest moon of the year (at least).  Doesn't look very big from this angle, but trust me, it was huge. It is rising over a neighborhood near my school.

Usually when there is a full moon, I brace myself for trouble at school.  The kids are squirrelly during the day, and usually something goes awry in the evening and wee sma's.  Didn't happen this time and I wondered when the shoe would drop.  Well, this past week is when.  With a week to go before their class trip and then graduation, seniors have decided to get the mischief out of their system before hand instead of afterwards (or not at all).  It's been a tough time.  And yet there have been moments.  Really good moments.  I guess you could say it's been one of those best of times, worst of times kind of weeks.  At times I felt very wise, at others, completely helpless.  It was a season of Light, it was a season of Darkness.  The spring of hope, the winter of despair.  One minute I felt we had everything before us, and the next there was nothing before us.  Sometimes I thought we were all going direct to heaven (figuratively speaking), but then, I knew we were all going direct the other way...(yes, a nod to Mr. Dickens).

There have been difficult discipline issues and it fell to me to be the bearer of news that was painful yet graceful.  And then the effort to make it OK, to help a reeling kids stay upright and not lash out.  In the middle of all that I was screaming (in my head) this is not supposed to be happening to me!  I left administration because of days like this!  And yet...I was glad to be the one, as it might have gone very badly otherwise.  What do you say when you know someone is hurting and they have acted out of that hurt--a hurt you know and understand yourself--and instead of being the voice of sympathy, you have to be the voice of reason?  I thought of my parents who sometimes said, while disciplining us as kids, "this hurts me more than it hurts you."  Yes...and I imagine that is how it is with God, too.  I do not envy Him.

This is just to say

that I love the look of surprise
on the face of
my students
when
they discover
the beauty, the power, the passion
that is
poetry.

But then there's the smile
of recognition
when one
meets a kindred spirit for the first time
as if they had always
been friends.
So sweet.  And so rare.

If you know William Carlos Williams, you probably know his amazing little poem "This is just to say."  We watched an enactment of that poem today in my AP Lit. class.  Most kids said "How is that poetry?"  Which was fine because it opened up discussion about what is art in the first place.  But one sat to the side and said nothing.  Just smiled that smile of recognition.  That, too, is why I teach.

Spring Break 2012

(I wrote this at the end of March, but had trouble with uploading the photos.)  It's been nearly two weeks since I've written here.  There's really no excuse for not writing sooner, at least in this week as it's my spring break.  The past two weeks, though were crazy--a lot of stuff going on at school, with evening meetings two and three days in a row.  We have our accreditation evaluation next year and have a lot of stuff to do to get ready for it, so that's much of what we're working on.  I am actually enjoying the collaboration.  We haven't worked together very much as a staff, so this is a good opportunity for us to get to know each other both professionally and personally.

I've joined a women's Bible study group, too.  Which is good, of course, but takes time.  I find it difficult to say I don't have time for Bible study, though.  So I don't say it.  Even if it is sometimes true.  Instead, I try to use my time better.  Which is also good.  We did a 10-week series on the Fruits of the Spirit with Beth Moore.  What an intense but inspiring study we had each week!  Now we're looking at Luke with Elizabeth Talbot.  She's not quite as intense, but I'm learning a lot all the same.  I appreciate looking at things I've known all my life from a different perspective.

Meanwhile, it's my spring break.  I toyed with going away, and at one point my parents were going to come out for the week, but neither ended up happening.  Instead, I've been getting things done here--gardening, deep cleaning--and visiting some local venues--including the Desert Botanical Gardens...again (I was there two weeks ago).  We had a good rain at the beginning of last week, so the flowers had really popped out.  Here are some of my favorite pictures from that visit (including some of the birds and beasts I saw there):

Red Rock Road Trip

I was doing so well in writing regularly here, and then my iPhoto crashed and I started having other computer issues, which put an end to my daily photo post for more than a month.  I finally got things back under some kind of control so am able to post again.  Which brings me to my road trip of last weekend.  On a whim, I decided to check out Sedona, so drove 2 hours north for the day last Saturday.  I have seen pictures of the red rock formations, but nothing compares to seeing them in person.  They are quite something to behold.

I drove the loop throughout the area and saw most of the famous formations, stopping frequently to take pictures, ending up with nearly 300!  My favorite stop was at the Chapel of the Holy Cross.  There's something about a small chapel like that--about walking into a space so completely and obviously there for heart-healing--a space so clearly meant to bring peace of mind and heart and soul.  The view of the cross and beyond, the scent of candles, the overwhelming presences of God the comforter and the creator...it was just what I needed.

I enjoyed walking through the arts and crafts village of Tlaquepaque (pronounced Tla-keh-pah-keh).  Built in the 1970s after a Mexican village, the word means "the best of everything."  There are some 40 shops and restaurants to explore.  I had lunch at the Secret Garden Cafe--an amazing garden burger like none I've ever had.  Delicious!  I met a man there who said he had "flown up from Phoenix" to have lunch there.  Made me laugh...probably took him as long to fly as it took me to drive...although it would have ben a beautiful day to fly.

As I was driving from photo op to photo op, eyes wide open to all there was to see, my mind was busy running through graduation talk topics.  Yes, the seniors have asked me to speak for their graduation.  I am beyond honored to have been asked.  I've spoken for graduations before, so it shouldn't be a big deal.  Only it is.  I've literally given hours and hours of thought to what I would speak about and have yet to land on the perfect thing.  All this pre-writing, though, it's been good for me.  Just hope it turns into something written soon!

Morning Rays · 365 Project

Morning Rays by Rondi Aastrup · 365 Project

lyrics by Eleanor Farjean

Morning has broken, like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken, like the first bird
Praise for the singing, praise for the morning
Praise for the springing fresh from the word

Sweet the rain's new fall, sunlit from heaven
Like the first dewfall on the first grass
Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden
Sprung in completeness where his feet pass

Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning
Born of the one light, Eden saw play
Praise with elation, praise every morning
God's recreation of the new day

The sun was streaming through a misty spot this morning, right in front of my front door.  I love how it poured through the mist and the tree leaves to create a lovely feel.  The sight brought to my mind this inspiring hymn that I first remember hearing when I was in high school (more than a few years ago).

Looking at the Sky

by Anne Porter I never will have time I never will have time enough To say How beautiful it is The way the moon Floats in the air As easily And lightly as a bird Although she is a world Made all of stone. I never will have time enough To praise The way the stars Hang glittering in the dark Of steepest heaven Their dewy sparks Their brimming drops of light So fresh so clear That when you look at them It quenches thirst. I have felt this way several times lately.  I feel as if there is never enough time for the good and beautiful things.  And yet even the glimpses, the brief moments, can suffice when that's all I have...

Christmas in February! · 365 Project

Christmas in February! by Rondi Aastrup · 365 Project

My sister gave me this Amaryllis bulb for Christmas. It made the flight from Boston to Phoenix after Christmas and then sat in its box for a few weeks until I planted it. I didn't have a good place for it inside, so put it out on my front patio where it would get the morning sun. Only trouble is that it was still quite cool overnight and in the morning before the sun come up and over the wall. As a result, the bulb was very slow in growing and only now is blooming! The paper whites were not quite as slow, but they lasted quite awhile in the coolness.

Schoolroom Poets

This week was the birthday of two of the four New England Poets also known as the Schoolroom Poets, the Fireside Poets, and the New England Brahmins:  James Russell Lowell and Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.  Coincidentally, my American literature classes were studying them this week, supporting the idea that these poets are still studied in (some) schoolrooms.  I have written about Longfellow several times over the years, but haven't really mentioned the others.  Longfellow seems to be my go-to poet of the four, but I do like the others too--as much for their contributions to life in general as for their poetry.

Oliver Wendell Holmes and John Greenleaf Whittier are the other two who make up this interesting quartet.  As poets go, these two made more impact in other areas than in poetry--Holmes in the area of medicine and Whittier in the area of civil rights (abolition of slavery).  And yet, a Holmes poem saved "Old Ironsides," though, and we know what it was like to be snowbound in New England because of Whittier.


Sunday was Lowell's birthday.  Lowell, who with his friend Holmes, co-founded the prestigious and influential Atlantic Monthly, and was responsible for launching the careers of many a writer.  Here's a poem of his that speaks to me:

Auspex


My heart, I cannot still it,
Nest that had song-birds in it;
And when the last shall go,
The dreary days to fill it,
Instead of lark or linnet,
Shall whirl dead leaves and snow.
Had they been swallows only,
without the passion stronger
That skyward longs and sings,--
Woe's me, I shall be lonely
When I can feel no longer
the impatience of their wings!
A moment, sweet delusion,


Like birds the brown leaves hover;
But it will not be long
Before their wild confusion
Fall wavering down to cover
The poet and his song.