I caught this moment waiting for my flight home from Dallas last Sunday night. I’ve never seen anything like this. It looks like the sun is burning a hold through the clouds. It’s intense heat melts the edges of the overcast sky.
It looks like someone holding a piece of paper over the flame of a candle. The fire singes the paper, and the hole grows bigger and bigger.
We know what’s on this side. Runways. Airplanes. Hangers. Terminals. Travelers. Baggage.
What’s on the other side? Stars, sky, birds. Constellations, galaxies, drones, and satellites. Life that has not yet arrived at our planet?
In just a few moments, I will be looking down from the other side.
On Saturday we and the whole Texas family headed out to the Huddin Homestead Fun Farm in Rockwall, TX, about half-an-hour east of Dallas. So many of the pumpkin patches had closed, so we were happy to find this farm.
I was skeptical. Sometimes we find little more than a bunch of overpriced pumpkins and gourds, some goats to pet, and a bounce house. I was pleasantly surprised. We saw everything from barnyard to exotic animals. We saw and fed goats, cows, camels, alpaca, sloths (they were sleeping), donkeys, coatimundi, capybara, chickens, quail, rabbits, Galapagos tortoises, parakeets, cockatiels, and lovebirds. The property was dotted with playgrounds and bouncehouses, food trucks and lemonade stands, gifts shops and a corn pit to play in.
The farm gave out free food pellets for the most of the animals. For a few bucks, you could buy a cup of lettuce leaves, cucumbers, and carrots for the camels, bunnies, tortoises, and coatimundis.
A train took the kids for a ride around a small circle of track. Not much, but they loved it.
And there were pumpkins and gourds if every shape, size, and color scattered around everywhere. Piles and piles over acres of land.
Here and there food trucks offered tacos, shaved ice, ice cream, coffee, and gourmet lemonades.
A steady stream of people came to spend part of a day. At $15 a head, the take should have been pretty good over the last month or so.
I can’t imagine the work involved in caring for all those animals. And I don’t even know how one purchases a sloth, capybara, or coatimundi. Hopefully they were rescues.
The variety of animals made this attraction a lot of fun!
A warm reading nook invites quiet relaxation beside a mountain sunset.
The Airbnb was nice. Really nice. It was located in a quiet northwest corner of Columbus, Indiana. Three bedrooms, two bathrooms, two big TVs, well-equipped kitchen, nearby walking trails, and a bonus room over the garage. The best feature was he outdoor fireplace, a perfect spot to sit on a cool night with a glass of wine and perhaps a few marshmallows to toast for s’mores.
It wasn’t till I got home that I realized what I missed.
Comfortable places to sit. All three sofas were nice, but they were deep. So deep that I couldn’t really sit without a pillow behind my back. I needed to sit on a pillow to make the folding chair tall enough to sit at a desk for writing. I felt like I was sitting really low out by the fireplace. Back home, I really appreciated our love seats where I could put my feet up and indoor and outdoor tables where I comfortably sit to read and write. The irony: lots of place to sit, but nowhere I wanted to sit.
Lighting. As in most Airbnbs, there was only harsh overhead lighting, and no dimmers. Two settings: daylight or midnight. I moved the one lamp around from bedside to the desk and back. I’m sure too many lamps have either walked off or been damaged, so I understand the scarcity. I just appreciate the subtle lighting of home.
My favorite coffee mug. I know that sounds silly. But morning coffee or tea is a daily ritual, and the heavy, white ceramic mug I use each day is anchoring. Airbnbs usually have an interesting collection of scenic, tall, and large coffee mugs, plus a few small cups. They just don’t feel right in my hand. I can adapt for a day or two. But it’s unsettling.
So when I get up in the morning, turn on a table lamp, and sit with a mug of coffee, I know I’m home.
A fall festival in Brown County State Park? Yes! Images of vendor booths, local music, apple cider, and pumpkin-flavored donuts filled my mind. After hiking a trail or two to enjoy the near-peak yellow and orange foliage, we’d stop by to enjoy the tastes, smells, and sights of southern Indiana in the fall.
Upon entering the park, we saw no signs directing us to the festival. Uh-oh. Was this the wrong weekend? I double-checked. This was the right day. Where were the lines of people waiting to get in? Where was the parking lot teeming with cars?
I had to ask Google. It was centered at the Nature Center, in the heart of the park. I headed down the road, certain I’d hear and smell it long before I arrived.
The park features a wonderful nature center, featuring displays about county history, what plants and animals to see, and geological formations. A few turtles posed for pictures.
Where were the booths? Where was the food? I didn’t hear any music.
Everything must be around back. I wandered around the path only to encounter a wedding on a back deck. A chilly wedding party was posing for pictures above a scenic overlook.
But no festival.
I headed the other way and discovered a marker board listing fall festival activities. They included a birds of prey presentation at the pavilion, pumpkin carving judging, and an evening flashlight hike and campfire. Twelve pumpkins sat on a table competing for the prize.
That was it.
No food trucks. No music. No vendors. No crafts. No photo spots. No people. Nothing. Just a sign proclaiming “Fall Festival.”
In Florida, we import all the makings of a fall festival. From pumpkins to leaves to apples to cider, it’s all from out of state. I expected to find all that and more in a place where fall happens full force with the onset of shorter days and cooler weather.
I have to admit the park was beautiful and the weather autumnal. Just no hot cider. Or apples. Or hay rides. Boo.
On my flight home from Dallas I verified the timeless adage that one ought not judge a book by its cover.
As we like to do, we were the last to board our flight to minimize our time sitting in the economy section. Just ahead of us was a short woman with a substantial carryon bag stuffing popcorn into her mouth from a large bag. While we had the middle and aisle seats in our row, guess who had the window? You are correct, this very woman concealing another carryon bag under one of her jackets.
She couldn’t fit her carryon under the seat in front of her, so we convinced her to put it up in an overhead bin. With one of her jackets against the window, she fell asleep for the next ninety minutes.
With about an hour to go before arrival, she woke up and got out her laptop. I was reading from the Kindle app on my phone, looking out the corner of my eye to see what she was doing. I immediately recognized mathematic equations, matrices, theorems, and proofs. The article was about Cholesky factorization. This was interesting.
I asked her, “Are you a teacher or a student?”
“I’m a teacher.”
I told her I recognized some of what she was reading, although it had been a long time since I saw anything like this. I told her that I had an undergraduate degree in mathematics, did some programming, and then switched my career trajectory to theology and pastoral ministry.
She asked me, “Why can’t you do both?”
With a chuckle I explained that my studies enabled me to help my daughter through AP calculus and help my grandson through pre-algebra. I told her I had programmed for Bell Laboratories in the early 80’s.
She asked, “Fortran?”
“Yes, and some Cobol.”
She told me that Fortran is a programming language still used in her field, even though most current programmers use some iteration of C or Python. It just works better for some applied math applications.
She added, “See? You can still do that!”
I laughed. It’s been forty-five years since I programmed with Fortran on pre-PC, room-filling IBM mainframe computers.
I asked, “Where do you teach?” It turns out she is from Brazil, has her Ph.D. in applied mathematics from the University of Arizona, and teaches at Texas A&M.
I am so glad I broke the silence and engaged in conversation. Something in me still comes to life when I come across math and mathematicians in this world.
We are back in the horse barn loft for our most recent trip to Rowlett, TX. We’ve been coming here for three years and were so glad to see our friends again. Proton the Arabian and King the paint were glad to see us, too. Somehow they knew we would show up with carrots and apples.
The other day, though, we didn’t see Proton for a whole day. King roamed the small pasture area, but no sign of his friend. Strange. Finally, from the deck above the stable, I heard a neigh. I looked over the edge and saw his head poking out over the closed door of his stall. It had been a windy day, so I figured the door had blown shut, trapping him inside. When I slipped through the fence and opened it, he happily trotted out into the yard.
I texted the owner and let them know how I found the horses. She replied that they sometimes closed the door since the other horse, King, would eat his food. Oops. Well, it had been a whole day, and there was a whole load of hay in the field. So I think I did the right thing.
Looking out from the deck tonight, I watched one of the neighboring Shetland ponies slip under the fence and make his way into the stall I opened. Oops. I think he might be the one helping himself to the food.
Anyway, everyone seemed happy, especially since we brought another batch of apples and carrots, enough to share with everyone.
We visited the Jacksonville Zoo for the first time in about six months, and wow, has it changed! They’ve finished the new entrance, added many new walkways and a 330,000 gallon manatee rescue/rehab tank. These three manatees sure enjoyed their new environment, as did a large crowd of folks on a cool, sunny, spring break day.
After watching the manatees for a bit, we walked around the back side of the zoo to the tiger exhibit. I’ve never seen any of the tigers this close before. She is a beautiful cat!
The warty pigs gathered at the window for us, too.
Unfortunately, the zoo no longer lets you bring food or drink in. We tailgated our picnic lunch in the parking lot after seeing all the animals, feeding giraffes, and riding the train.
The entrance and manatee upgrade cost $72 million! Quite an upgrade.
The tower of a citrus processing plant somewhere in southwest Florida
We took two of our grandsons to an Atlanta Braves spring training baseball game at Cool Today Park, a beautiful stadium nestled between Port Charlotte and Venice, Florida. Our drive from northeast Florida took us down interstate highways through Daytona Beach and Orlando, before the GPS routed us down back roads to avoid ever-present slowdowns on I-75.
I took in a part of Florida I had not yet experienced. Some of the roads took us through abandoned orange groves. Others took us through vast cattle ranches and expansive strawberry fields. We passed thetowering citrus processing plants, endless rows of fabric-covered infant orange trees, tobacco stores, gun shops, and Latin-American food trucks of southwest Florida.
I thought I understood redneck Florida. I was wrong. Our drive took us through a whole different world, a strange new world in a state where I have lived for thirty years.
I trusted the Airbnb host’s recommendation for a casual supper place. I haven’t been out to eat in a place where people were smoking for a long, long time. The seating area was technically outside, so they got away with the few patrons who lit up a cigarette. I was happy when they finished up their meal and left.
On the way home, we were the only English-speaking folks inquiring about the restrooms. Nevertheless, everyone was friendly and helpful.
I don’t have to travel far to experience other cultures. They are right down the road.
What a beautiful morning for contrails! The atmospheric conditions were just right to preserve the telltale path of jets heading up and down the east coast of Florida.
Early morning flights take people to business meetings. Families load up the kids to vacation destinations. Couples take off for their honeymoons. Others return home to be reunited with their loved ones.
When I’m up in the air, I look down and wonder if anyone is watching us pass overhead. Unless there’s a nice contrail, I don’t notice all the planes overhead. From the ground, I wonder if anyone is looking down at me. From what I’ve seen, most fliers are asleep or watching a movie, not paying attention to anyone down below.
Flight still amazes me. We can travel so far so quickly. It’s a paradox though. It’s slow getting to the airport, through security, and waiting to board at the gate. But a few hours later we’re in a different country, in a different part of the world, where many speak a different language.
One source says that a million people may be in the air at any given moment. That’s a lot of folks squeezed into metal cylinders miles above the ground!
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