Ole Mossy Rock

Seattle is known for being a wet city. Not wet as in alcohol, although there's plenty of that too, but wet as in rain.

As of the evening of April 25th, Seattle had 44.7 inches of rain between October and up until then in April. As the headlines announced, we smashed the record set just last year for the most rain in the October-April period. Of course, because we are such a young city, we've only been keeping such records since 1895. But two sequential years breaking the rainfall record? What's up with that?

When Kuro and I went walking a couple nights ago, we decided to look for moss, one of the natural results of the rain. We found moss in plenty and of various kinds. Moss on rocks, sidewalks, tree limbs and roofs.

Moss growing on a small shed roof just across our back fence.

We found many varieties of the four kinds of moss: sheet moss, cushion moss, haircap moss and rockcap moss. I don't know how many varieties there are in each division but the articles in Wikipedia and other places go on seemingly forever.

Here in Seattle many people battle the moss. They fight the moss in the lawn, on the sidewalk and on the roof. They put up a good fight but the moss always wins. Some people don't fight but seem to enjoy the moss that grows everywhere.

Moss is called "koke" in Japanese and is admired instead of despised. Most people who grow bonsai encourage moss to grow in various ways over and around the roots, and temple gardens sometimes have glorious expanses of various kinds of koke.

We sometimes walk this way just to admire this huge old wisteria vine that stretches along the top of a fence from property line to property line, probably fifty feet. I don't know how old it is but it is covered with beautiful moss now and it will soon bear blossoms from here to the end of the fence.

I've walked these same streets for many years, both with our old Kuro and now this new dog, Kuro, and I've looked at flowers, trees and sunsets. I've looked at moss before but I've never searched it out and really seen it. It's everywhere.

As Henry David Thoreau said, "It's not what you look at that matters, it's what you see."

Moss gets along well with our wild violets that, like moss, grow in the shady moist places, if left alone.

Three or four different kinds of moss plus some lichens thrown in for a bonus.

Speaking of lichen, the micro-climate on this north side of an old fence grows a bumper crop. Several kinds fighting for space plus a couple kinds of moss find breathing room.

Moss, moss, everywhere, if you really see what you are looking at.

Moss and lichen grow on the larger branches of my nashii (Japanese pear-apple) tree.

The old saying goes, "A rolling stone gathers no moss." Stationary stones and old tree branches allow moss to grow undisturbed. Shiny growth wears a badge of new life. No moss here until the new leaves join previous generations in the humus below.

As I get older I find it necessary to roll a little harder to keep the moss from growing.

Renewal

The recent warmer weather accelerated my feeling of renewal that happens every spring.

The flowers are rushing to bloom, the leaves are bursting from their buds and the air smells cleaner and fresher. We even saw the sun for a couple days here in Seattle.

The older I get the more I appreciate the sense of renewal that happens this time of year. When I was younger, the days rolled by one by one, weeks took a full week to pass and tomorrows seemed endless.

Now, as the passing days, weeks and months total nearly four score years of living on this earth, my days spin by quickly. Sunday barely gets going before Saturday pops up and the months pass like weeks did in years past.

I think this apparent speed is caused by accumulating memories that blend current observations with the old. I seldom see a genuinely new thing unless I search for it. The temptation is to go with the same old emotions, fit new sights into the old and categorize the passing scene as, “the same old, same old.” Only if I set out to find a new shape, color or idea nearly hidden in the smoke screen of old memories can I find something that stimulates a new question or thought.

Not saying that old memories are bad, just that they should be used with discretion. As I get older I find refuge in some of those old memories of gentler and happier times when time passed slower and multiple blinking, beeping, talking and vibrating electronic things weren’t competing for my attention. The bad memories tend to be forgotten so it's a pleasure to run the mental cursor over the pleasant old memories, savoring them like a special dessert, but I try to remember that the new is important also. In fact the new is a big part of reNEWal.

Over the years I’ve tried to stay in shape by exercising but this year brought a new opportunity. I started a formal yoga class. At first my old brain tried to fit the new exercises and poses into memories of similar exercises but as I concentrated on the differences, gradually new muscles began to quiver and newly stressed joints began to ache. Then, as the new became clear, new memories, instead of being blended, were added to the old. Time slowed, I began to observe different things and, looking back, the hour of yoga exercises seemed like half a day of memories.

My walks with Kuro allow the same kind of observations, but only if I take advantage and look for things. As we walk along the day’s route, Kuro is always looking for new things so I try to take a page from his book and see what I can see that is new. Sure enough, as I look more closely, ignoring those tempting memories, new things pop up.

Some people we pass are engrossed in their electronic devices, catching up on emails or Facebook or maybe the latest headlines. I figure those things can wait until we get home. Better to find something new in the always new spring scene. Even from one day to the next, IF you look, there are differences that won’t be visible until next year, if then.

I say, “embrace renewal,” not only of our physical surroundings but also of the brain. If I let them, new sights and changing scenes can bring new thoughts and memories, rejuvenating a tired old brain and body.

Full Moon over Fallen Cherry Blossoms

It was a little late when Kuro and I got away for our evening walk tonight. We had a heavy rain squall come through earlier in the day then just before dinner another storm blew through. This one contained a center of heavy rain mixed with hail. Bottom line was we didn't leave the house until about eight.

The grass was wet and the windy blustery but, a walk is a walk, as my little dog would say.

Last Sunday I posted about the cherry blossoms in our neighborhood. It's been cool so they have lasted well until today. The heavy rain and hail knocked many of the older petals off the trees.

In some places cherry blossoms looked like a recent snow fall.

Kuro kept watch while I snapped some photos. The light was fading fast so I tried to get two or three shots in what light remained.

Maybe because he's color blind, Kuro doesn't care about the blossoms. Then, again, maybe
it's because he has other things in mind. Four-legged animals that move fast interest him
and two-legged animals that might threaten his master also catch his attention.

The single pink and white traditional cherry blossoms are nearing the end of their life but tonight we saw the double white blossoms just coming on.

It was dark by this time so this photo was taken by the light of the street light. I took several shots trying to catch
one between gusts of wind when the smaller branches wouldn't be moving too fast for this slow shutter speed.

We usually walk west for a couple blocks then north for about a mile then back over the hill to the east and south again so we have downtown in sight for most of the walk home. Tonight as we rounded the corner headed for home, there was the full moon rising just north of downtown Seattle.

We were lucky to catch the full moon clear of clouds.

Walking along at night, the big moon was a lovely sight. It is near the northernmost point of its orbit this month so we don't see the moon over various parts of Seattle since the city is farther south (from our vantage point here in middle Magnolia).

Jupiter shows in this enlarged shot. This is a good time to see Jupiter since it is pretty much
opposite the sun this time of year.

The temperature was in the low forties and the wind was gusty out of the south but Kuro said it was a good walk and I had to agree.

1984 at Hand?

After thinking overnight about the cherry blossom posting I decided the ending wasn't exactly what I wanted, so decided to try to revise it.

My blog host, Blogger. com, has a provision for revising and updating entries. In the past I have made small changes but his time decided to change the complete ending. It was a simple matter of bringing up the post via the "edit" option, making the revisions and hitting the "update" button and suddenly the real world changed.

During last night's midnight reverie, it occurred to me how eerily similar our internet is to Orwell's news outlets in his novel, 1984. A reader of that blog post would not know that the previous ending had been different. In fact, unless someone had printed or made a screenshot of that post, the old ending would be unknowable to almost everyone.

I suppose it's possible the old revisions can be found somewhere in the innards of Blogger and for a law enforcement agency to subpoena (or maybe just ask for) those, but for all intents that old ending is gone.

I know that certain governments control and change the "news" to fit their perceptions of what is useful for their citizens to "know" about the rest of the world, and even what happens inside their own countries. They invariably describe themselves as "democracies" but their definition is different from my definition of how a democracy works.

Many years ago I used to listen to and sometimes read the "news" from Xinua or Pravda. In those days it was pretty obvious propaganda, what with references to "running dogs" and "lapdogs," "imperialist lackeys" and the like thrown around rather indiscriminately. Occasionally, even today I run across articles from those same news agencies. Today they are more sophisticated in their delivery even if their ultimate goals are still the same.

With most of our media on board certain ideological trains, I wonder how much the citizens of our country are subjected to similar news-changing influences by either our government or other powerful forces who subscribe to the concept that they know what's best for our citizens to hear?

Scary stuff to think about and more the reason to support news sources who report the facts as best they can without inserting too much government, personal or corporate bias.

Hanami, Cherry Blossom Viewing

This is cherry blossom viewing time around the world, at least in the northern hemisphere, and especially in Japan.

In Japan hanami means cherry blossom viewing. Literally hanami means flower viewing but for the past thousand years or so it has meant viewing cherry blossoms.

Kuro and I went walking Sunday afternoon to admire to blossoms in our neighborhood. I'm not sure how many cherry trees are in Magnolia, but within a mile of my house there must be fifty or more. 

Hanami is the occasion for flower viewing parties where groups of people take special food and sake to parks or temple grounds when the cherries are in bloom. There they spread blankets or thin tatami (straw mats), share food and drink and admire the ephemeral beauty of the cherry blossoms.

After a few cups of sake, people begin to sing, and after a few more cups of sake, especially the groups of younger people can become quite boisterous.

There is an even older tradition in Japan of viewing plum flowers, umemi. This custom, even though more ancient, doesn't appeal to the younger people so sometimes older folks will go to view the plum blossoms and enjoy a more sedate party, without the boisterous sounds of the young people partying nearby. 

As the cherry blossoms mature, they begin to fall while still in their prime. Today when we were walking under the trees and admiring the blossoms, they were just reaching maturity and there were no petals on the ground. Maybe by tomorrow evening the petals, still fully formed and elegant, will begin to fall. 

In Japan the petals falling at their peak of beauty came to symbolize soldiers in war, falling in their prime.   

Instead of soldiers, I see the falling petals symbolizing the people in our civilization who die unnecessarily.

• In the United States about 44,000 people died last year from drug overdose
• About 88,000 people died in 2015 from alcohol-related causes.
• Texting while driving causes 1,600,000 accidents with at least 4,020 teen deaths each year.
• There are approximately 480,000 deaths caused by smoking and breathing second-hand smoke.
• Pedestrian deaths while texting are on the increase. No concrete numbers yet but authorities estimate paying attention to cell phones causes ten percent more pedestrian deaths each year.

Like these flowers, light can shine through people. That light comes from religion, ingrained culture or family teachings. Religion denied, culture changed without thought for the greater good or families dissolved into individuals can block that light and the flowers suffer.  

We admire the falling petals of the cherry blossoms but so many lives flickering out before their time is sad. We need some changes in our lifestyle. Perhaps that's a topic for a different post.