'Listen attentively, and above all remember that true tales are meant to be transmitted; to keep them to oneself is to betray them.' Baal- Schem-Tov (Israel ben Eliezer)
The blackberries are already full, soft, ripe and falling like dark garnet jewels from the bushes in the fields behind Loseley. The natural rhythm of the year is about a month ahead of itself here in Surrey. My senses tell me that I am in late September where the calendar tells me we are only at the beginning of August.
When I see blackberries I think of two things ...
1st = I need to get out and gather them and freeze a few boxes to make blackberry and apple pies in leaner days.
2nd = blackberry milkshakes at Dotty's, a little place outside Etna in Northern California where staff and guests of the JH Ranch often stopped for a sweet treat on the way back to the Ranch.
As the summer is drawing to a close it seems an appropriate time to reflect and tell some of those tales from the JH Ranch. I thought I would copy out a few of my thoughts written down in my journals many summers ago. Each one is a small written snapshot of a much grander picture that I don't have the time to tell at the moment but maybe one day.
Anyone who has visited or worked at the Ranch may identify with some of these experiences and hopefully they will bring back good memories.
'true tales are meant to be transmitted, to keep them to oneself is to betray them.' Baal - Shem- Tov
the bean
Can there be a better setting
Sipping tea on the front porch
Looking across a lush green pasture
where horses graze under the apple trees?
Music drifts up from the Big Top tent
laughter rolls across from the Rodeo circus
the machine that is the Ranch completes its cycle every week
as the washing machine hums from the bean kitchen
we toil, we pray, we sing and we cry together,
we fight over showers, empty washing machines, we compete over the use of the golf carts
and learn to fold each others dry clothes and balance piles of T- shirts on the ironing board
we accidentally fry rescued bird chicks in a shoebox
warmed over a lampshade.
Unpaid tabs at the Snack bar
Morning runs around the wagon wheel
Afternoon trips to Dotty's
Evenings spent perched on the fence outside the Big Top looking up at the stars.
Paynes lake
i climbed again, like a goat, scrambling over loose rocks & pine cones.
i shed my banana skin and set my sights high.
springtime in the mountains
i danced in an alpine meadow and sang your praise.
The Upper Klamath River - T2
when we went white water rafting
the birthday cowboy anchored us securely in the centre of every storm
the waves crashed over and all around, but
Colorado man & his rattlesnake belt held us on track.
the joy, the exhilaration, the power ...
the river runs wild and we shouted our way down it,
rejoicing in the skidding water,
ducking to miss the drenching wash
a million tons of water sweeping us like a bobbing cork,
light as a feather
crashing onwards, ever onwards
down towards the ocean.
T2 bike ride to the ocean
a bike ride to the coast
rolling down logging roads
out along the canyon in the blazing dry sun.
In the cool of the evening camped by the river
matted hair and stubbled legs
it was liberating to sleep in my clothes, lying under a million stars
we reached the cool of the prairies
the gentle hills & pastures
the damp of the forest
our days came quickly to a close
running in wet sand to freezing cold Pacific Ocean waters.
a campsite in the Redwoods
morning mists and coffee at the foot of a giant tree
whilst boiling water the kitchen cloth caught fire
and i stood laughing and kicked away a giant yellow banana slug.
growing up
there was a boy
who rode past on his bicycle, balancing precariously with chain saw in hand
there was a boy
who drove past in a battered old truck
carrying a pile of mattresses with another lying on top
king of the world ...
there was a boy
who laid in the cold stream to cool down on those hot summer nights
while in the day he drove the garbage truck and moved the water pipes
there was a boy ...
he grew into a man with family and responsibility ... the carefree boy is no more.
JH lake baptisms
it was a hot sunny morning when they entered the lake
shedding their sin
our eyes were wet as we watched
brother & sister melt into the water
Homer
i will always remember Homer - the fat lab (who couldn't bark because his voice box had been removed)
& Chef Dave who married a happy Nun
Homer and Chef Dave driving home together in the golf cart
(looking pleased with themselves after a long hard days work, I don't know what Homer had done except eat food and bark silently at squirrels)
bumping at speed along the wagon wheel !
moving the water pipes
who is the gentleman walking across the meadow
bare chested, swinging a golf club?
why are they yodelling across the valley?
staff retreat & Californian forest fires
8 men come paragliding into the field of hay & smoke
the sun blood red.
A young member of staff sang opera
beside the campfire at the campsite where dogs howled
and we woke to find our sleeping bags covered in a fine drizzle of ash.
Applegate
along the road the crowds gather in the bowl of a garden
in the cool of the evening with the soft breeze lifting
the moon rises and music sweeps the valley
as I watched a flock of geese glide across the sky.
A final blessing
all blessings be to bearded men & plastic cheese
much goodness be upon blackberries & mountain bears
peace be upon the barn roof and a night sky full of shooting stars.
