Today I go to the North Carolina mountains for several days of sermon planning. The goal, as it is each year, is to begin enough sermons to carry me through twelve months of pastoral ministry. I usually go to the coast for this event, but the mountains have a different music, and the change might be refreshing for me and my church. As I drive away in just a few minutes, I am grateful for your friendship and your prayers. Listen with me for something important that God has to tell us.

Maybe this should be titled “Silliness on Sunday.”

It began during the river trip on Saturday with this:

…a basketball floating down the Catawba river, like thousands of others have done in the past. After determining its species (Spaulding), I released it to continue its migration.

When I finished on Saturday, I didn’t take the kayak off of the Frontier, hoping I might have a chance to go again on Sunday after worship. And that’s the way it worked out. The upper body exercise from the paddle movement felt great, and the seasonal scenes again blessed my awareness.

Suddenly, there was this:

I don’t have a football, so I thought this might be a cool, free find. But when I picked it up, water squirted out along the laces; it was too far gone. It posed for this shot before jumping back in.

Very shortly after the football, there was this:

Yes, folks, that’s a Care Bears ball. I wonder how long that’s been waiting in the woods for a flood to set it afloat.

I continued into the river’s western curve around the big island, different from Saturday’s eastern route.

On the way back down the eastern bank, something caught my eye over by the grass.

Until the very end of 2008, I don’t think I ever had a soccer ball of my own. That’s when I found a nice one in the dunes at Ocracoke, while exploring with Debra, Bryan, and Laurie. Then, when kayaking with Debra on the Catawba River back in the summer, I found one that was in pretty good shape, and kept it. Now here was a solid blue one just waiting to be found, like a watermelon in a cotton field. I manuevered the kayak close to shore, between the two stumps and clump of roots, hoping the ball was not too waterlogged.

Now I have three!

And just before heading in to land, this floated by:

(Here’s an article that gives a little background of this phenomenon.)

(And this one has a related picture.)

After so much rain last week, the Catawba was heavy. It took extra muscle to push its weight behind me as I worked my way upstream. Along the way, though, patches of lingering autumn color made the effort worthwhile. Here are some views of the afternoon, perhaps too many for one posting, but it has been a while. (I may need to relearn photographic restraint.)

Here is a slough entering the river, made more accessable by the raised water level. Having not been back there before, I decided to explore while the passage was navagable.

I find places like this really beautiful.

I threaded my way through some fallen trees into a deeper place, contemplating the stillness. But I wasn’t there long before a truck approached, unseen behind the trees to my right. Not knowing who they were or how hospitable they might be to my presence in “their” woods, I turned the Q700X around while the truck growled its way through whatever mud it found. You might remember that this kayak is quick, so I was back to the river entrance before they were finished parking. I would find other stillness, perhaps.

I crossed the river and came farther upstream to this passage between two islands, a place I’ve kayaked and photographed several previous times. The flow was impressive, sounding like rapids in places where tree branches filtered the current.

Readers may recognize the scene, though with different foliage than in earlier postings.

As I floated back downstream after 5:00, darkness came much earlier to the west bank than the east.

This was a very good day on the river.

After nearly a week of exquisite rain and cold brought in by the remnants of Ida, today is a different kind of beautiful. The oaks and hickories are catching all the sun and reflecting it back into the blue, warm sky. Faulkner and I took a good walk into the deeper, unexplored parts of the church’s woods. And now I’m heading to the river with the kayak on the truck.

A ball becomes smooth from its passage through the net, but not all at once.

Yes, kind readers, I have been both absent and delinquent in tending this site. You have been patient and encouraging. Thank you for the persistence.

I have been occupied by many things, much of it I hope to share in little pieces. First I will say that a large portion of my summer’s time was spent walking. It’s a pedometer thing, and I get incentive points (Healthmiles) for various threshhold amounts of steps each day. The incentive points translate into cash, eventually. …Very small amounts of cash, but still, the insurance people are paying me to be healthy, so I’ll let them.

On June 1, the same day I signed up to do the Healthmiles thing, I also had blood drawn to assess my cholesterol and other bloody stuff. My cholesterol was high, 217, with a grossly ugly LDL of 161. My HDL was only 38. When I showed it to my doctor in July, he wasn’t pleased. He started in on me about needing to take medicine for it, and how my LDL was higher than he wanted my total cholesterol to be. But I talked him out of it, having already started measures to reduce the offending molecules. He wasn’t impressed and didn’t think it would make a difference, but conceded to let me try on my own until October.

I felt like I had something to prove.

Since June 1, I have averaged 21,000 steps per day. That is roughly 10.5 miles every day. Exercise is the thing that raises the HDL (“good cholesterol”). I also began monitoring my eating habits more strictly than I had previously done. I was serious about it. And some foods were hard to turn down, especially at the great church dinners we have around here. But I knew I could do it; it has long been my personal feeling that no food tastes as good as the feeling of being fit and trim. Besides, eating the right foods to fuel my body, and doing it many times throughout the day, I never went hungry.

When I began this initiative, I weighed 189 pounds, recently down from 193 or so. Even though I’m 6′1″, that’s too much weight for me. I feel it negatively when I have extra pounds, and it saps my motivation, etc. So, through the process of trying to drive down my cholesterol, I began to drop a few pounds. That felt great! As the weeks and miles went by, I was feeling more and more mobile and light on my feet. My weight eventually stabilized at 171, and I feel healthier than I have in years.

So, I went to have blood drawn on October 14, so they could do the next test. A few weeks later, I stopped by the doctor’s office to get a copy of the results ( I wanted to know what it said before I meet with the doctor in November). I took the envelope to my truck, got in, and opened it for the results. The total cholesterol count had come down to 151, HDL was up to 53, and the LDL had plummeted to a slim 85! I sat there and laughed out loud for a long time, thoroughly enjoying the clinical demonstration of a healthy lifestyle at work.

More good stuff has been going on, too, but I’ll save that for another posting, hopefully soon. Peace and blessings to each of you!

It’s September, now.

Hello, world.

I have some friends who are now at the beach, renting a house on the marsh, actually. Just knowing they are there and what they are doing gives me a good sense of relaxed well-being. They had invited me to come along, but other obligations are involved here at home. Occupying them are some of the best things in life: watching the tide flood into the marsh grass, eating homemade chili on the screened porch, watching the tide go out, spending hours on the beach, sleeping, and watching storms. And that feels really nice.

Found on May 1 while at the Carolina Bird Club meeting. I hoped to meet the owner to discuss features and performance characteristics, but never did. Just look at the long waterline length on that thing; it’s got to be fast! If anyone knows what kind it is, leave a comment, please. Wood strip boats are beautiful pieces of art.

Saturday and Sunday happened in usual fashion, except that I did go see Angels and Demons on Saturday afternoon. It was a very suspenseful and high action movie that I enjoyed, but I always find the gratuitous killing of many law enforcement officers to be a disturbing thing. I worshipped and rested Sunday, and then…

That’s right, I finally made it back out in the kayak! And it was such a beautiful day for it. This was Monday, Memorial Day. I’m in the QCC Q700X, and Debra is in the LL Bean Calypso.

Kayaks are great vehicles for getting up close to whatever’s growing along the shore.

Being in a small boat on a river with dark edges is a perfect blending of relaxation with adventure. These places make me breathe easier.

And this trip was our first chance to kayak in the rain together.

In all my time on this river, I’ve never seen other paddlers unless they were in my group. So it was a pleasure to encounter canoeists and kayakers throughout our trip this time out. The combination of holiday plus the lilies in bloom upstream at Landsford Canal State Park brought the paddlers to the river.

This channel, sliding through shade between two parallel islands is a favorite part of the Catawba for me.

Here is a closeup of a very small lily colony, located a mile or two downstream from the state park. The large colony of them at Landsford Canal (see recent posting for photos) is reputedly the largest concentration of Rocky Shoals Spider Lilies in the world. Of course, while the phrase “in the world” is accurate, better perspective is given when one realizes that their entire range is limited to just three states — South Carolina, Georgia, and Alabama.

Back at the house, grilling happened, but rain made me relocate the cooking under the garage roof.

Giving thanks usually comes at the beginning of the meal. But sometimes it comes while cooking, or lighting the fire, or buying the pineapple, or discussing the menu, or riding home wet, or glancing around to see her on the water.

I picked up Debra at 3:55 AM on Friday morning, and we headed for Lugoff. Lex was waiting when we got there, and we started loading his car with all our equipment. We were on the road again before 5:00, heading to Florida. The three of us were taking our best shot to see the Greater Sandplover, a stray bird that normally lives in Asia and Africa. This individual is only the second ever recorded in North America, and we hoped it would still be there. Storms with gale-force winds and abundant rain earlier in the week had made finding the bird difficult for some other birders, and rainy, windy weather was still partly in the forecast.

At 10:15 we pulled into Hugenot Memorial Park and found a place to leave the car. (This is located east of Jacksonville, out on the coast of Duval County.) We grabbed our scopes, binoculars, raincoats, and started walking. Other birders were standing around a large group of mixed shorebirds, and we knew we were in the right spot. The bird had been cooperative all morning for those who were there earlier, so we had good hope. We didn’t have to wait. It was among several hundred plovers and sandpipers, but with a little pointing and scanning, we all picked it out and had leisurely, upclose scope views. That was nice. Here’s a picture of the scene (the Greater Sandplover is in this group, but too far for the camera to show detail):

We continued there for a few more hours, enjoying the bird and the people who came long distances to see it. One gentleman had just flown in from Rhode Island to see it; he liked watching the bird through the scope. As we stood there searching the birds for something different, a Red-necked Phalarope flew in, and we got great scope views of this normally pelagic species. That, also was a new one for me.

Lex

Debra

Lex and me

On the walk back to the car after noon, rain started, and wind pelted us with sand. We were gritty and soaked on the way to find something to eat. Not knowing the area, we solicited recommendations from the locals. Both people we asked said the Sandollar was the place to go. We did, and it was worth it. Debra tried the cashew-crusted curry grouper; Lex and I had grilled mahi with dill and caper sauce…all of it very good food!

I saw two guys come to the buffet line and recognized them as birders from Tampa who had shared part of the morning with us. I walked over to see what else they had found after we parted, and they told about finding Leach’s Storm-Petrels over the surf at Little Talbot State Park. That is another pelagic species not normally seen from land. So after finishing at the restaruant, we headed up A1A to Little Talbot.

I find it hard to take unblurred photos of armadillos; they’re deceptively quick.

If you are ever in the area, pay the small entrance fee and just drive through this unspoiled fragment of coastal Florida. It is a beautiful place. We parked and walked up onto one of the boardwalks so we could scan the ocean. After a little while I found dark slivers of movement cutting over the waves. As they came closer, even flying over the beach itself, we were able to get positive identification as Leach’s Storm-Petrels, my third new bird for the day. It has been a long time since I got three new birds in a single day east of Texas.

It was mid-afternoon, and we had seen what we came to see. So we drove back home. I only had two-and-a-half hours of sleep the previous night, but the adrenaline kept me going all day. We made the vehicle transfer back at Lex’s house, drove to Lancaster, dropped Debra off, transcribed my bird records, and I was in bed by 12:15. That was a great way to spend a Friday!

This was May 16, the day before the annual Lilly Festival at the park.

As Debra and I started the long walk back to the truck, rain came, soaking us thoroughly the whole way. That was fun.