Collective Effervescence, Awe, and Wonder

Picture from the WEB

Now that May is here during my morning Qigong, a pair of swallows often swoop past my window, sometimes diverting my attention and energy. Recently, as the pair dipped and dived, a childhood memory surfaced. I returned to my childhood on an early May day when hundreds of barn swallows whirled near the gabled roof barn of our family farm. The swallows returned for another season to raise their young either in last year's nests (now lined with new material) or new ones molded from mud and spit, and located high up under the eves of the barn. I watched in awe as these graceful birds danced in the air, eventually landing to enter their sturdy mud homes. This one is feeding its young.

Nests were close to each other forming a harmonious colony that spanned the eves of the barn. No bird staked out and defended a territory. Neighbors got along and seemed to talk with each other. The chatter was constant. Perhaps the colony experienced collective effervescence, a concept that I learned about during a recent Chalice meeting. Chalice is a small group of fellow First Unitarian members that meets twice a month during the church year and once a month during the summer.

'Collective effervescence" is one of eight portals to awe spelled out in Dacher Keltner's book Awe: The New Science of Everyday Wonder and How It Can Transform Your Life, published in January 2023. The book reports 15 years of research in 26 countries and populations as diverse as doctors, combat veterans, athletes, prisoners, writers, environmentalists, poets, and Indigenous scholars. Collective effervescence includes a deep sense of belonging to humanity, the shared sense of being interconnected and a sense of unity transcending self. This sense of "we" rather than "I" or "them" can happen from sharing music and/or movement with others or during rituals and ceremonies like weddings, graduations, sports celebrations, funerals, and family reunions. Walking with others in nature and pilgrimages are other catalysts for collective effervescence.

1994 Cabin 

My life has included a fair amount of collective effervescence. Memorable ones happened within this cabin located near Florence, Wisconsin. The main structure is made of logs and built in the late 19th century. The porch is a later addition. The cabin is surrounded by pine trees. Seidel Lake borders the property and is an easy walk from the cabin. 

Kay's family has owned the cabin and surrounding property for many years. Kay and her husband Don, both long time friends, lived in the cabin for 20 years, after they took early retirement in 1995. They moved from Milwaukee and remodeled the cabin. A complete new bathroom was one addition. The outdoor privy used for years now was only a perch for  the whippoorwill's evening callings. Eventually the privy was removed. The call of the whippoorwill still could be heard but more in the distance and not as loud.  

In 2015 Kay and Don moved to Kingsford, Michigan. An era ended. Don died on December 5, 2020.  I often think of him as I wear his wide brim hat during summer days.

For many years friends, sometimes up to a dozen, gathered at the cabin. My first visit was in the late 1960s. During those days, opening day of trout season on the Brule River, across the road from the cabin, was always a special event.

Jenny, part of this group, wrote the following poem in 1991 for her Freshman high school English class, capturing the collective effervescence of one evening. 

A Banjo and a Ukulele

 

The meal is done

And everyone has finished eating.

We move to the porch,

Just to talk for a while.

The conversation revolves around 

Movies and politics.

We settle down and get comfortable,

A man that was sitting quietly in the corner

Now picks up a banjo.

He then offers a ukulele to

A girl sitting on the floor.

She eagerly accepts,

And he teaches her how to play four chords.

Then they start to play.

One by one the people in the room

Stop talking and listen.

On the banjo he picks out a lively tune.

Then, as if in a choir,

The people in the room carry the tune

With their voices.

To the trained ear the chorus was off key and dull,

But to friends it was a silver melody

That floated through the Northern night.

Jokes were told, and magic tricks preformed.

And all the while the two of them sat 

In the corner and played.

Every few minutes he taught his student something new.

They played their tunes,

And strummed their instruments,

And their fingers never grew sore.

They played that banjo and ukulele for everyone.

They played well into the night.

Now in 2023, I still experience collective effervescence. It was in the air during the May 6th and May 20th Prospect Gardens work sessions. 

Here's Gregory's selfie of the May 6th team. He is the one with the stocking cap. To his left is Joyce and to his right is Nick. I'm in the back holding the cookie and Ann, my wife, is at my side. Laura, another volunteered arrived shortly after the picture was snapped.  We are enjoying a break from weeding. Thank you all for your generosity and adding to my feeling of effervescence.  

By May 20th the weeds were abundant, a testimony to their tenacity and spring turning into summer. Twelve kind hearted individuals joined Ann and I on a day made for gardening; blue skies, sunshine, and mild temperatures. Thank you to all of you.

Here's some of the May 20th crew. I forgot to take a group picture. On the bottom row (left to right) are West High Leo club members Rajeev, Frosya, and Nurlybek. Top row (left to right) are Alexis(daughter Tilly not pictured here), Melissa, and Gregory.  

Others not pictured, besides Ann and me, are Sandy P., Connie and her daughter Olivia, Laura, Jim, Ann N. and Alice. A special thank you to Jim for the 16 strawberry plants, replacing the original patch that disappeared several years ago. I also appreciate you joining us while being from a nearby neighborhood.  

Caring for Prospect Gardens provides opportunities for socializing and making new connections while catching up with what's happening in the lives of regular volunteers. Welcome back Ann N.  That bleeding heart you donated several years ago is thriving. Thanks for offering columbines which we will transplant in the fall.

Here's Tilly (on the left) and Olivia on a well earned break. These two five year-olds and their mothers removed catchweed bedstraw. The four worked as a team. Alexis and Connie pulled out handfuls of the sticky bedstraw and handed it to Tilly and Olivia. They in turn put the weeds into the wheelbarrow.  

Tilly asked a lot of questions about plants. I showed her how jewel weed's liquid helps reduces the itch on skin once exposed to stinging nettles. 

Stinging nettles don't deserve the bad rap suggested by their name. A few years ago I learned from a young man collecting stinging nettles at Prospect Gardens, that the immature plants are excellent in salads and that mature leaves make a flavorful but strong tea. He also puts them in lasagna. 

Thank you Tilly and Olivia for being with us. Your presence added so much to our collective effervescence. You and your moms are welcomed back anytime.

Here's industrious Frosya, Vice-President of the Leo Club at West High School, removing weeds from a rocky slope. Frosya has mastered maintaining balance while weeding on a slope. She has volunteered at Prospect Gardens for several seasons. Thank you. 

Frosya is a graduating West High senior and will be attending Princeton. Well done.

Here's Rajeev. He's a sophomore and will be the Leo Club president next year.  I mention his presidency, in hopes that the Leo Club will continue lending a helping hand during his term and into the future. Having members of the current generation with us adds so much to my sense of collective effervescence.   

Thank you Gregory for coming again. Maybe a millennial generation member ? I  appreciate you spending a Saturday morning caring for Prospect Gardens which means you biking from the Tenney Park area.  

Our weeding efforts reminded me of a Carl Sandburg poem about weeds. Even though we are not a vegetable garden, his message about the need for vigilance applies to Prospect Gardens. 

Weeds

From the time of the early radishes

To the time of the standing corn

Sleepy Henry Hackerman hoes.

There are laws in the village against weeds.

The law says a weed is wrong and shall be killed.

The weeds say life is a white and lovely thing

And the weeds come on and on in irresistible regiments. 

Sleepy Henry Hackerman hoes; and the village law uttering a ban on

weeds is unchangeable law.

Here's a picture illustrating another benefit of prairie gardens, followed by a Robert Frost poem about the importance of human connections.  Prospect Gardens is just one of several prairie gardens along the Southwest Path with the last one located around the pedestrian bridge over the beltline. These are all maintained by volunteers.

David and his daughter are sitting besides the small prairie that David installed and now tends at the corner of Commonwealth and the Path. A perfect place for father and daughter to be under an umbrella on a sunny day. I passed by on my daily walk. I stopped, we exchanged greetings. I learned that David is faced with aggressive black-eyed susan spreading rapidly throughout the prairie. He will be taking remedial action. Thanks David for taking care of that small prairie. 

Likewise during the May 20th work session, two neighbors stopped for a chat. Another rode by on her bike and shouted a greeting. 

A Time to Talk

When a friend calls to me from the road

And slows his horse to a meaning walk,

I don’t stand still and look around

On all the hills I haven’t hoed,

And shout from where I am, What is it?

No, not as there is a time to talk.

I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground,

Blade-end up and five feet tall,

And plod: I go up to the stone wall

For a friendly visit.

Prospect Gardens over the years has provided many opportunities "for a friendly visit."  There is always time to talk during Prospect Garden work sessions. Come join us if you live in Madison.  You too may experience collective effervescence while having a friendly visit. 

Susan Herndon Photo

This spring has also been a season of wonder and awe. Early in May, on a walk on the path along the northern shores of Lake Wingra (Monroe Street Arboretum) I witnessed a pair of adult cranes and two chicks.  I watched with wonder and awe as the two colts(another name for the chicks) tumbled along after their parents. 

I told a neighbor Susan about the chicks. She and her husband, Rick, observed the crane family walking along the path. Susan and Rick were so close to one of the adults that she could have reached out and touched it. Susan resisted the urge.

On a walk with Ann, we watched how the two parents scratched the dirt with their beaks and how the chicks scampered over and ate what was revealed.  (After Ann googled, we learned the chicks are called "colts" because of their long legs.)

More occasions for wonder and awe were watching a pair of Canadian geese, as the female hatched a brood of five goslings. The adults appear to be same ones that have returned to the storm water pond along Monroe Street for several years. 

While the female sat on the nest, the gander stood by, seeming to be on guard. He joined the female after the five were hatched and often took the lead as they swam across the pond. The family stayed for several weeks during which Ann and I visited several times. Geese often move their brood from the hatching site to a larger body of water which in this case would be nearby Lake Wingra. 

Vilas Park, also on the shores of Lake Wingra, has several families of geese; eating, resting, or leisurely swimming on the lagoon. I spotted a brood that to my great surprise was at least 16 goslings. I lost count at 16. I watched with awe as the adults waddled into the lagoon and the large brood followed. The last one scrambled more quickly than the others. Perhaps thinking "Don't forget me." 

Spring at Prospect Gardens always provides opportunities for awe and wonder. This spring it was the injured cherry tree with the deep scar on its trunk. A few years ago I decided against removing the tree. A wise decision because this season the tree had more blossoms than ever.  Now the tree is filled with small green cherries, promising an abundance of ripe cherries for humans and birds. 

Official summer will arrive in a month.  Meanwhile, more opportunities to experience collective effervescence, awe, and wonder await us.  Be well. 

 

  

      

 

    

 

  
  

  

 

    

 

     

 

   

Resilience and Aging

First Unitarian Society's (FUS) theme for February is resilience which is one prompt for these reflections. Another prompt is walking through snow covered Prospect Gardens and noticing subtle examples of resilience, which I will comment on later in this entry.

You may be asking what does the crystal ball and the next picture have to do with resilience? Well actually not much if you totally accept the Webster's dictionary definition of resilience as "an ability to recover from or adjust easily to adversity or change."  This crystal ball, a holiday gift from Laura, a long time Prospect Gardens volunteer, positively affects my mornings as I patiently wait for winter to morph into spring.   

The morning sun streams through the large southern window of my office, catching the crystal. The orb does its magic: little circles of refracted colors are projected on the ceiling and walls. I feel joy watching this impermanent phenomena.  

I invite you to reflect on the following poem from the FUS monthly newsletter that introduced the theme of resilience. 

won’t you celebrate with me 

By Lucille Clifton (1993)

won't you celebrate with me

what i have shaped into

a kind of life? i had no model.

born in babylon

both nonwhite and woman

what did i see to be except myself?

i made it up

here on this bridge between

starshine and clay,

my one hand holding tight

my other hand; come celebrate

with me that everyday

something has tried to kill me

and has failed.

 

I will share with you the result of reflecting on Clifton's poem and on a Sunday message about resilience by Rev. Kelly Crocker, one of our two FUS co-senior ministers. From Googling the term, I learned that resilience is very popular, but quantitative researchers are concerned that the concept lacks rigor, which makes measurement difficult. As a qualitative trained evaluator, I am less concerned about this lack of rigor. 

With that said, there is general consensus in research and popular literature, as Rev. Kelly mentioned in her February 19th message, that one of the important factors enabling resilience is meaningful social connections. Mayo Clinic on its website lists six tips to increase your resilience. Top of the list is  Get connected: build  strong, positive relationships with loved ones and friends so you have support, guidance and acceptance in good and bad times. Mayo also encourages developing other important connections by volunteering or joining a faith or spiritual community.

Throughout much of my life I have been fortunate to have strong supportive connections; friends, family members, neighbors, and colleagues. Although, I didn't have any close childhood friends. I was a timid kid plus chores on our family farm started at an early age and took up much of my time. Fun time was with my brothers and sisters, close to my age in a family of 14. My older sister Angie was a close playmate, along with three brothers. 

For six years, I attended Polandi, a one room rural school, a few miles across the fields from our family farm. Although Nora, Carolyn, and Marilyn were my grade level classmates during all those six years, I was not close to them. Polandi closed after I completed sixth grade.

8th Grade: Me Far Right (white shirt)

Connections with friends began to change as a seventh grader in the K-8 up-to-date Pulaski Elementary School. I can't quite explain the change except an increase in self-esteem because of Mrs. Parker, my seventh grade teacher, and Mr. Ripley, my eighth grade teacher.  With their support, I excelled academically which boosted self-esteem. Plus Mr. Ripley was my first male role model outside my family. 

By the time I graduated from high school I had many friends, an honors student, and in many non-athletic activities. I was on the Junior prom court (the only non-jock), Student Council President, in a school play as a priest, and sold ads for the Pulaski Newspaper. The Pulaski News was and continues to be a community paper staffed by high school journalism students, like me.  

Friends were important during the late 1960s as I completed undergraduate and graduate degrees at UW-Madison. Friends and colleagues supported me throughout my 40+ year educational career and during major transitions. I lived in Oregon, Indiana, and Massachusetts before returning to Madison in 1986 with Ann, my wife, and our then 21 month year old daughter, Emily. She was born on November 13, 1984 in Lawrence, Massachusetts, the town adjacent to Andover where we lived.

   

One of my favorite memories from the middle 1970s is my friendship with Sterling and specifically when I met him while completing special education certification at Oregon College of Education, Monmouth. On a cold Oregon rainy day after the first class I waited in front of a plate glass door staring at the heavy rain. I heard from behind me, "You just must open the door and step into it."  He was a great support during those Monmouth days and our friendship continues.

Ann joined my journey in 1975. My friend Kay arranged a blind date in December 1975 when I returned to WI from Oregon for a visit with Kay and her husband, Don. On May 25th, we will celebrate our 44th anniversary. Ann is a loving partner and major supporter, starting when she moved to Oregon in the summer of 1976 and continuing after we married in 1979. She was at my side when we left my beloved Oregon in 1980 and moved to Indiana to attend Indiana University, Bloomington where I earned an Ed.D in 1983. Bloomington's hot and muggy summers were just part of our adjustment. Next we went east to Andover, Massachusetts and then back to Madison.

Ann and I made it a point to celebrate important events during our journey. A few memorable celebrations are: Emily's birth, her Child Dedication at FUS, (attended by many family members and friends), a 2015 Blasczyk family reunion, wedding anniversaries of sisters and brothers, annual UW Homecomings at our home with my two brothers, their wives and four friends, and celebrating each of Emily's educational milestones. The Ann Arbor celebration of Emily's graduation from the University of Michigan with a Masters in Survey Methodology was especially joyful. My brother Tom, his wife, Todd, and brother, Lou joined us. 

Today friends (some since about 1970) continue to be important connections, along with family members. I am in regular contact in person and/or by phone with my five remaining siblings.  We occasionally visit my sister, Theresa, who is in a Milwaukee assisted living facility but wish it could be more often.

 I am now considered the family historian. I did extensive family research using Ancestry.com, other sources, plus family interviews that resulted in 10 CDs of family stories. These were shared with family members in 2015 and are now part of the Wisconsin Historical Society collection.  

Three small groups are within my current supportive network. My FUS Chalice group has been meeting, twice monthly during the church year, for almost 20 years. During the height of the 2020 pandemic, Chalice was a critical support as we met weekly on Zoom. We now meet in person, reading and discussing Karia Jewel Lingo's We Were Made for These Times. 

The other two monthly groups are affiliated with the Madison Insight Meditation group. Eight of us belong to a kalyāṇa-mitta, Sanskrit for “spiritual friends.” We are reading and discussing The Book of Joy, featuring discussions between the Dalai Lama and Desmond Tutu. The "Going Forth" group of nine focuses on topics and issues related to aging, including death and dying.

Since Prospect Gardens began in 2010 I have enjoyed connections with numerous volunteers. Some have been only for a few days while others have extended over the years. Thank you all for contributing to my well being.  

These days I am aware that letting go increases resilience needed to navigate aging. Danna Faulds' poem makes the point about giving up control, the opposite of letting go. Tara Brach, international known meditation teacher, stresses "radical acceptance", another form of letting go.

Allow By Danna Faulds

There is no controlling life.
Try corralling a lightning bolt,
containing a tornado. Dam a
stream and it will create a new
channel. Resist, and the tide
will sweep you off your feet.
Allow, and grace will carry
you to higher ground. The only
safety lies in letting it all in –
the wild and the weak; fear,
fantasies, failures and success.
When loss rips off the doors of
the heart, or sadness veils your
vision with despair, practice
becomes simply bearing the truth.
In the choice to let go of your
known way of being, the whole
world is revealed to your new eyes.

My current situation with Prospect Gardens is one small (and less dramatic) example of allowing, accepting, and letting go as I age. I have been the only crew chief since the initial development of the Gardens in 2010, responsible for recruiting volunteers, working with them on site, and for making decisions affecting the Gardens. I want to step back as crew chief after this season. I am now searching for a replacement while considering an option for a small team that takes on the crew chief’s tasks rather than one individual. 

Letting go of Prospect Gardens is not easy for me. I just can't walk away and see what happens. I try not to think about this beautiful site with its many environmental benefits disappearing into invasive plants and weeds. Maddie Dumas, City Engineering's Greenway  Vegetation assures me that she will do her best to ensure that this will not happen if DMNA/Regent Association cannot maintain the Gardens. Maddie has been so helpful over the years, with advice and providing an Operation Fresh Start Team to help maintain the Gardens.

 Tibi, a potential future volunteer, reminded me that the Gardens after 13 years are resilient -- prairie plants will survive and the strategy may be to support them. I am comforted by Tibi's suggestion and Maddie's assurances.

Tibi's wise advise is underscored by subtle examples of resilience I recently noticed on a walk through the snow covered site.  Here are four pictures of what I discovered along with quotations about resilience.

Milkweed Pod - Seeds Dispersed

“The oak fought the wind and was broken, the willow bent when it must and survived.” ― Robert Jordan, The Fires of Heaven

 

Forsythia Bud

“We must be willing to let go of the life we planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us.” ― Joseph Campbell

Budding Japanese Sumac 

"I can be changed by what happens to me. But I refuse to be reduced by it.” ― Maya Angelou

Budding Pussy Willow 

“When we learn how to become resilient, we learn how to embrace the beautifully broad spectrum of the human experience.” ― Jaeda Dewalt

Here I am in the present moment with the sun melting the snow and with, at least for today, a hint of spring in the air. The sun is higher in the sky so the crystal orb is no longer casting its spell. May you be well and enjoy the remainder of winter and the onset of spring.

Potpourri

Buddha on our deck: snow beginning

Potpourri as used here refers to a miscellaneous collection of events and reflections. As winter settles in I begin with comments about the November 5th Zoom held Mindful Man retreat attended by 18 men and me. We have met for several times a year to study topics and practice mindfulness. This was the18th year and the final retreat. Thank you David and Hal for your energy, leadership, and teaching. 

Through talks by David and Hal, meditation, and guided activities, we focused on losses in our lives and how we use them to grow and move forward. Steve, the third leader, led us in Qigong, developed in China thousands of years ago as part of traditional Chinese medicine. Qigong involves slow movement exercises that optimize energy within the body and mind while connecting these with the energy of the earth. Thank you Steve.

During the open session as an introduction to the day, Steve shared the following poem.

Along Lake Wingra before the snow.

 Allow by Danna Faulds

There is no controlling life.
Try corralling a lightning bolt,
containing a tornado. Dam a
stream and it will create a new
channel. Resist, and the tide
will sweep you off your feet.
Allow, and grace will carry
you to higher ground. The only
safety lies in letting it all in –
the wild and the weak; fear,
fantasies, failures and success.
When loss rips off the doors of
the heart, or sadness veils your
vision with despair, practice
becomes simply bearing the truth.
In the choice to let go of your
known way of being, the whole
world is revealed to your new eyes.

While walking along Edgewood Drive bordering Lake Wingra, I noticed this note attached to wiring protecting an  oak sapling. The sapling replaced the fallen "towering oak sentinel."  Its "old limbs started to fall."

For me, the note and Faulds' poem provide cues for responding to losses. Both underscore accepting that life is unpredictable, acknowledging the truth of a loss, and letting go. The note adds another dimension to letting go; "we welcome this new-comer", whatever that may be. More may be required when we face deep grief after the death of a loved one, for example, support, patience and forbearance. 

 

The impact of the historic midterm elections is still unfolding and is an example of unpredictability or to quote Faulds, "There is no controlling life." I like this New Yorker cover titled "Low Tide", which tells what happened despite all the predications of a Republican "Red Wave."  Karen Tumulty's Washington Post opinion article entitled "The expected red wave looks more like a puddle" is another accurate assessment. 

I agree with the pundits who said that the election showed that many voters could think about other issues beyond the effects of high gas prices. To paraphrase one pundit, American voters were capable of chewing gum and walking at the same time. Other pundits noted that decency in politics may be returning because most losers from both parties conceded. 

More remarkable, despite heated rhetoric and implied threats, elections nationwide went smoothly and without predicted violence or massive protests. Problems were minor. Kari Lake, Republican candidate for Arizona governor, is the only loser who claims, without any evidence, that her defeat was the result of "disenfranchisement" of her supporters in Maricopa County.   

Personally, this election marked the passage of time. The first president I recall was Dwight Eisenhower. In 1952 as an eight year old I accidentally voted for him in the mock election held at our one room schoolhouse.  I tearfully asked the teacher if I could change my vote. My teacher refused; no election fraud here. My family was strongly Democratic. My older sister Barbara recalls our Dad praising Franklin Roosevelt and expressing great concerns about Hoover.  

I have always voted in all elections since reaching voting age. I worked on many elections after we moved to Wisconsin in 1986 until this one. While Ann and I contributed financially, I did not volunteer.  Mitigating factors included aging and still being cautious regarding COVID, which eliminated door-to-door canvasing. I once did phone and text banking but increasingly doubted the effectiveness. In 2020, Ann and I wrote many letters through Vote Forward but not this year. 

I don't look forward to the already unfolding 2024 presidential political season. The constant campaigning is tiresome. Sometimes I wish for a return to the time when extensive campaigning began  after Labor Day. The incessant television ads, text messages, and emails, all asking for money, are irritating. I recall when disinformation was not part of the political discourse. Supposedly we all trusted Walter Cronkite, that venerable CBC newscaster, with his infamous signoff: " And that's the way it is."  His sign off expresses my sentiments about our current politics.

The following poem embodies my aspirations for our political culture and our society. The frequent use of the word "vote" peaked my interest. A Google search revealed that "vote" is derived from the Latin word votum, meaning ‘a vow, wish’, and from vovere ‘to vow’. The verb dates from the mid -16th century.  You may want to change "vote" to "vow" or "wish" as you read and reflect on the poem.

Election By Alfred K. LaMotte  

I voted.

I voted for the rainbow.

I voted for the cry of a loon.

I voted for my grandfather’s bones
that feed beetles now.

I voted for a singing brook that sparkles
under a North Dakota bean field.

I voted for salty air through which the whimbrel flies
South along the shores of two continents.

I voted for melting snow that returns to the wellspring
of darkness, where the sky is born from the earth.

I voted for daemonic mushrooms in the loam,
and the old democracy of worms.

I voted for the wordless treaty that cannot be broken
by white men or brown, because it is made of star semen,
thistle sap, hieroglyphs of the weevil in prairie oak.

I voted for the local, the small, the brim
that does not spill over, the abolition of waste,
the luxury of enough.

I voted for the commonwealth of the ancient forest,
a larva for every beak, a wing-tinted flower
for every moth’s disguise, a well-fed mammal’s corpse
for every colony of maggots.

I voted for open borders between death and birth.

I voted on the ballot of a fallen leaf of sycamore
that cannot be erased, for it becomes the dust and rain,
and then a tree again.

I voted for more fallow time to cultivate wild flowers,
more recess in schools to cultivate play,
more leisure, tax free, more space between days.

I voted to increase the profit of evening silence
and the price of a thrush song.

I voted for ten million stars in your next inhalation.

My aspirations were exceeded, as Ann and I hosted a celebration on October 22nd of my brother Lou's and sister-in-law, Corine's 50th wedding anniversary. That day we also hosted the annual University of Wisconsin Homecoming gathering for the 36th year, attended by my older brother Tom, his wife Todd, Lester, a friend since 8th grade, and his friend, Eunice. My 2 brothers, Corine, and Todd went to the game, while Ann, Eunice and I watched on TV.

The couple exchanged vows on October 21, 1972  in our hometown church, The Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, Pulaski, WI. I am on the far right of the picture. A reception was held in the parish hall, starting in the evening. 500 hundred guest first enjoyed dinner, followed by dancing and an open bar until midnight. 

The dinner was prepared under the supervision of the head cook Mrs. Kabara and with assistance from her crew. Mrs. Kabara was booked well in advance because of her popularity. Corine peeled many potatoes before the wedding. Family and neighbors often assisted at these large Polish influenced weddings. However, I don't recall any other stories of brides peeling potatoes. 

Fifty years later, Ann prepared the same meal of chicken, ham, stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, and green beans. The cake came from Metcalfe's, and of course, served with UW made Babcock ice cream. A four foot golden helium-filled number "50" balloon floated in the corner of the dining room as we sat around a 78 year old table purchased by Ann's Grandma, Anna, just before the 1944 wedding of Ann's parents, Ethel  and Charlie. Grandma Anna prepared and served a Hungarian dinner for the wedding party seated around the table. I imagine toasts were made in the honor of the happy couple.

We toasted Lou and Corine, wished them well, reminisced, and enjoyed the warmth of family and friends. Corine and Lou were delighted with the celebration. The Badger's win over Purdue added to the festivities. Lou and Corine are avid Badger and Packer fans.  

You may enjoy this novel by Quan Barry, the Lorraine Hansberry Professor of English at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. She was born in Saigon. The suspense filled and yet gently told tale involves two youthful twin brothers who become monks in the Tibetan Buddhism tradition. Both are capable of reading each other's minds.  

Chuluun is a novice monk awaiting his final vows while his brother, Mun, considered a reincarnation of a famous monk, has disrobed. Mun adopts a western lifestyle, has a cell phone, and an MP 3 player with ear buds. He also idolizes Genghis Khan, the founder and first Emperor of the Mongol Empire, which eventually became the largest contiguous empire in history. The Great Khan reigned from Spring 1206 – August 25, 1227.

The tale takes place in Mongolia and in 2015. Chuluun, along with two senior monks, go on a quest to find the child reincarnation of an important monk somewhere in the wilds of Mongolia.  Chuluun has deep doubts about his spiritual path, which he eventual resolves during the quest. His western seeking brother joins the quest. 

The two senior monks are also intriguing personalities, adding much to the story. The travel is dangerous, introducing the reader to the vastness and beauty of Mongolia while encountering the lives of the three possible child candidates. 

I especially liked the novel because of questions Chuluun wrestles with are for everyone and appropriate for the 21st century. For example, he asks, “Why do we need to believe that our lives add up to some grand narrative?”  For a review see  https://www.washingtonindependentreviewofbooks.com/index.php/bookreview/when-im-gone-look-for-me-in-the-east-a-novel

On October 29th,  Ann and I prepared Prospect Gardens for the winter with the help of Laura, a long time volunteer. Thank you Laura. This experience lacked the suspense and drama of Barry's tale. Instead, I felt contentment as the 13th season of caring for the Gardens was drawing to an end. This year, we left more plants intact, on the advice that doing so provides seeds for birds and shelter for small animals. About a week later, Ann and I put up the orange plastic snow fences that prevent city snowplows from pushing excessive snow into the Gardens and cleaned both ramps before winter sets in. 

Here are five pictures of the Gardens taken before we the current snow cover. Included are chapter titles from Barry's enchanting book.

"The Earth and Sky Never Meet"

      

 "There are Times When We Must Walk Towards the Darkest Dark"

  

" The Beautiful Arrives in Its Own Time"

"You Are Not Who You Believe Yourself to Be"

"We Rely on Nothing but What We Carry Inside Us"

Snow continues to cover the Gardens, offering protection against the elements. Thank you to the neighbors who volunteered this season, West High Leo Club members, and the Operation Fresh Start crew. What happens until spring is uncertain but we know that the Garden's future depends on the generosity of volunteers. 

Meanwhile, may you be well and have pleasant holidays as we continue on our collective and interconnected journey. I end with another poem that Steve shared at the end of the November 5th Mindful Man Retreat. 

Sonnet 2 from “The Autumn Sonnets”

by May Sarton

If I can let you go as trees let go
Their leaves, so casually, one by one;
If I can come to know what they do know,
That fall is the release, the consummation,
Then fear of time and the uncertain fruit
Would not distemper the great lucid skies
This strangest autumn, mellow and acute.
If I can take the dark with open eyes
And call it seasonal, not harsh or strange
(for love itself may need a time of sleep),
And treelike, stand unmoved before the change,
Lose what I lose to keep what I can keep,
The strong root still alive under the snow,
Love will endure—if I can let you go.