Sunday, Sept. 05, 2004 3:30 P.M.

Do You Have a Place For a Quiet Moment?

PAGE ONE

What was that �thing� on television a few years back, where we heard a whole crowd of people chanting, �The whole world is watching! The whole world is watching!� I feel as though the whole world is watching this weekend, as we observe the tragedy of the terrorist attack on the Russian school; the culmination of the RNC; the sudden heart condition of former President Clinton; and�perhaps most of all here in the U.S�.the Florida hurricane. This interminable hurricane. Florida is accustomed to short bursts of Mother Nature�s afternoon squalls and thunderstorms. I lived there long enough to know that the normal storm is a hit and run act. Here in California, we tend to forget what rain is, between �monsoon� seasons. But when it does rain, it is seldom hit and run. It comes in slowly and rains for days, sometimes a week or so, moderately and steadily�and that is not accompanied with wind. The devil winds are always swept in on the wings of an atmospheric �high�, accompanied by brilliant sunshine and soaring heat off the southwestern Great Basin area. So a tropical storm bringing damaging wind and torrential rain is almost unheard of here. No, we have our horrible, fire swept wind, or is it wind swept fires? And we have floods from steady rain that a rock-hard adobe soil dried out from the incessant sun, cannot absorb. So the water runs in the city streets, and unexpectedly flashes out of nowhere in the desert arroyos to sweep cars away in its wake. The winds of the west are associated with �high� pressure. Not low pressure. All this started me thinking�(there I go again� thinking)�about where to find the most moderate climate in the U.S, with the fewest natural disasters. Earthquakes and wind driven fires victimize the west coast. The Pacific Northwest has this, plus rain, rain, rain. The Southwest, especially in the Mojave basin, has unbelievable summer heat. And the San Andreas Fault. We know what takes place along the Gulf Coast and Eastern Seaboard. The extreme northern states experience long, cold winters, accompanied by an annual blizzard or two...or three�in some areas. Then there is tornado alley. All across the plains, and through the Midwest stretching from the panhandle of Texas eastward in just about any frontal path. I though of where I grew up. The Ohio River valley around Louisville. This area has some of the most moderate weather in the country. Not too much heat. Not (normally) too much rain. Most of the remnants of storms from surrounding areas become tamed by the time they arrive in this valley. Only a couple of good snows in the winter. Yes there is a little humidity, but it is not normally life threatening. And yes, there are tornado warnings, but as long as I lived there, none materialized. The one major threat is flooding from the Ohio River. There is a solution for that. Just live on high ground. The lower valley and riverfront communities are in danger every few years, but few of the residents live in those areas. I should have stayed in Louisville. If what I wanted most was a moderate climate. The first earthquake I ever felt was right there in that area, however. We had a small ranch style home in a quiet outlying suburb of Louisville. I was sitting in the den watching TV. All of a sudden, it felt and sounded like a train had roared down the street. The next day, the local newspaper�s headlines displayed news of a moderate earthquake in the area. The epicenter was the New Madrid Fault, which lies deep in the Mississippi River Basin, somewhere in the southern quadrant of the river�s path. I understand this is an active fault, not to be taken too lightly. Speaking of the heat, �devil winds�, etc. out here: Yesterday morning, a high pressure condition moved into Southern California, and it brought a mild Santa Ana Wind with it, which lasted just long enough to blow dirt and leaves into my pool. Of course today is the hottest day we have had since last Spring (104), and the pool is too yucky to use. And� it is a holiday weekend, so the pool service is not available. (I know, I know. Life is tough. Be glad you are not in Florida, right?) I wonder what all of you would think the most moderate climate area in the U.S.?

PAGE TWO

I wonder how many of you have gone all the way back into my archives and read the very first �test� entry that I wrote? I am sometimes a dreamer (the less constructive side of a thinker�) and the other day, I was �dreaming�, and this entry came to mind. I will copy and paste it here for reading, in case you missed it.

COME TO KNOW ME �Out of the current of many bloodstreams, walked one of my ancestors. She was a product of the Cherokee Nation and the Trail of Tears. I wonder if she treasured dreams of those who would come after her, who would revere the knowledge of her existence although it was in a far off time. And I wonder if she could envision the shadows of her nature which would fall across my soul. I never knew her name. I only know she was. But the power of her genes exceeds all others, and I find the very colours of my spirit streaming from her life. In me, the musky autumn leaves spin toward the earth, cast-off from molting trees huddled together to brace against the promise of chilling days to come. In me, the mournful voice of a loon haunts from the far side of waters blackened by a moonless night. Its call rides upon the gentle sound of the waves rhythmically kissing the shore. In me, the soft earth is alive as it caresses the soles of my feet, skimming a path left behind by the journeys of others. I go lightly, and before long seem to walk on air above the ground. In me, the sweet pine smoke of many fires rises to give its offering to the skies and permeates the dampness of the evening mist. In me are the melancholy yearnings for a sense of place, which long ago was lost and lies beyond the reach of all my efforts to embrace it and lie down. But, if you were to come across my path and see my face, you would not recognize me. You would see the face of the grandmother down the street, living in the house around the block, cooking, cleaning, shopping at your local store. All generations learn to walk upon the boards of the stage on which their lives are played. And you would see my face and think you know me well. It takes vision with perception to reach inside and draw the curtains from the windows of another's soul. Then you will know..�

Thanks for reading! If you have never read my �bio� entry, see the link below.

Short BIO Found Here

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