The first time my husband proposed to me I was stopped at a red light while driving him to the airport to fly off to a work conference. I said “Yes!” and managed to drive the rest of the way to the airport (we were only about a mile away when he proposed) and drop him off.
The second time my husband proposed a bit differently. We were out on a drive through the Hill Country outside of Austin. He was doing the driving this time and after we had been driving for awhile, he pulled over at a State Historical marker near Pack Saddle Mountain. The marker says that at said mountain in 1873, the last “Indian battle in this region” was fought when a group of 8 white men (I am assuming they were white) “routed a band of Indians thrice their number.”
I had been here before with my brother and Dad on one of my Dad’s long Hill Country drives, where he would point out various Texas landmarks and tell about the history.
Here is the historical marker:
Here is Pack Saddle Mountain:
On this occasion, my husband got out of the car, walked around and opened the passenger door, rummaged around in a brown paper bag, got on one knee, and asked me to marry him while holding out a toy ring. At least this is how we have remembered it all these years later. I again said “Yes” and we did eventually get married after I got a proper engagement ring.
Recently, on our way to San Angelo, we again stopped at this marker and took a few photos and reminisced.
Here are some flowers near the marker:
I wrote about our trip in my May and June blog posts, but didn’t tell about something that happened on this trip. On the way back to Austin, we stopped again at the pullout for this roadside marker and view of the mountain. We stretched our legs and I got back in the car. My husband comes up to my window and presents me with a pretty little flower! How sweet.
Here is the flower:
I thanked him and we did a little kiss. Then, while I was proceeding to put the flower in the center console area to take back home, I noticed some webbing. And then a little spider was dropping down out of the flower on it’s spinneret thread. I didn’t want a spider in the car with us and I didn’t want to hurt the spider. So, I scooped the spider up in the flower and put the flower at the base of a nearby tree to protect it and the spider from the wind.
Below is a photo of the replaced flower (circled in blue):
Talking about this recently…about the second proposal…he mentioned that it seemed like “good ground” when describing the place by the mountain. He said that was an old army term when they were looking at topographical maps. It meant a good place to be in terms of a being able to have the advantage in a battle. I don’t know who had the advantage in the 1873 battle…maybe the white guys since they won. The marker was defaced a few years back with grafitti reading “White history celebrates genocide.” It did get cleaned up and no trace of those words remain as of the last time I saw it this spring.
My husband and I will celebrate our 28th anniversary next month. Our marriage is on good ground and we have both worked at defending it over the years. Many small battles after which we both emerge with a stronger marriage bond. Happy Anniversary Honey!
Photos by B. McCreary
Check out a web page about the marker at The Historical Marker Database:
As March progressed, I anticipated and looked for signs of Spring. I saw many and knew more would be coming…more flowers blooming…birds singing and nesting. But, there was also a gnawing at my soul in the background of the beauty. My mother’s death date approached, March 25th. It has been 15 years since her death and the pain of grief has lessened. But, I want to hug her and share my life with her and I want her to see the physical beauty she left the world. The tears are coming as I write this even though I have been thinking about writing about it for quite a while.
On the other hand, I am glad my mother is not here to see the destruction of our country. She who supported civil rights with her body and soul…she who always rooted for the underdog. She was a proud American and she voted. I’m sure that if she saw the video of the woman being taken away by unidentified men to be locked up and silenced, she would have felt that woman’s fear in empathy.
A couple of days ago, March 29th, I attended a Birthday party for my friend Joan who was turning 80 that very day. This was also my Mother’s birthday. As we sang Happy Birthday to Joan, I was also singing to my mother. My mother’s death was just 4 days before her birthday and as she lay comatose on life support, we had sung Happy Birthday to her.
Okay! Enough grief for now! Here comes the Joy. In my blog posts of April 2019 and March 2021 I shared photos and a few words on one of my mother’s legacies, the lovely purple spiderworts she transplanted from her yard to mine over 20 years ago. From a literal handful of plants to the current abundance of them is one of nature’s miracles. What started as one purple clump in the backyard has now spread all over the yard and into the front yard. And both my brother and my friend Laura have transplanted some from my yard into their yards, where they are now flourishing.
As you look at these photos, remember that a small, positive action can take hold and grow. This is something to remember as we navigate our way through the coming months.
Beauty Among The Rocks
At The Trunk Of The Bur Oak
Near The Rotting Hackberry Stump
Near Philosopher’s Rock
Growing Low To The Ground
Pink Colored With Bee Gathering Pollen
With A Tiny Bee
With A Big Bee
So Pretty!
And there are many more photos of the flowers that I will not publish here…the flowers next to yellow dandelions …some next to orange crossvine blooms…the ones I can see in the front yard outside my office window…the view of them through my kitchen window…
May the natural world give you peace and strength each day. And remember that each positive act you take may grow and spread
I wrestle with what to write about. So many ideas. Do I post more pictures of critters from my yard? Do I write about more important to the world sorts of things, like the dismantling of our government? Ideas come and go and I jot down notes on a variety of topics. I write 3 legal pages of notes about my family’s relationship to music, from me to ancestors I’ve never met. I have been hearing more bird song lately and think maybe I should write about that. Or, I should finally write up my words about Harriet Tubman that I have been meaning to write up for about a year. It is Black History month. My mind keeps churning out subjects.
Serendipity strikes. Many things have entered my life in the past few months that seem connected.
Have you ever heard of the Rosenwald Colored schools? Neither had I until the past year. I had first run across them in a legal document among some old family papers.
The document reads in part:
“Be it known and remembered, that on this the 10th day of March A. D. 1926, I, Mrs. Ellen J. Buie, widow of H. H. Buie, deceased, have granted, bragined and donated, and by these presents, grant, bargain, donate, set over and deliver unto the Franklin Parish School Board, of Franklin Parish, La. herein represented by H. W. Gilbert, President, accepting this donation in all its parts and clauses, the following described property, towit:” A description of the property’s boundaries follows, and then this:
“To Have And To Hold the said property unto the said Franklin Parish School Board for the use and benefit only of the Rosenwald Colored School.”
My great grandmother was born in 1856 into a family that owned slaves. In the 1860 U. S. Slave Census her father owned 32 slaves aged 50 years old down to 6 months old. 66 years later she gave something back to the descendants of the people her family had enslaved. 2 acres for a school. When she was 14 she had been sent away to a convent school in St. James Parish. Maybe it was this experience that made her value education? And her daughter, my grandmother Mary, became a school teacher.
Here is a photo of my great grandmother Ellen Julia Copeland Buie (1856-1935):
But, the name Rosenwald meant nothing to me at the time I first looked at the document. Some months later, I happened to read a genealogy blog post about the Rosenwald schools. (there is a link to the blog at the end of this post). Then I happened to be showing the family document to my brother and I realized the importance of the name Rosenwald Colored School.
And then…I saw an advertisement for a special exhibit at the Bob Bullock Texas State History Museum that was about the Rosenwald schools in Texas. And they would be showing a film about Rosenwald on February 8th, with a panel discussion afterwards. I felt compelled to go. The film, by Aiva Kempner, was about 90 minutes long and told the story of Julius Rosenwald who was a rich philanthropist. Descended from Jewish immigrants who instilled quite the work ethic in him, he eventually bought Sears and Roebuck. He believed in giving back to the community. One of his projects was building schools for colored children in the southern states. He partnered with Booker T. Washington to do this. He built these schools during the Jim Crow era. “Separate but equal” was not equal at all. His generosity led to the building of thousands of schools to educate black children. He had three parts to these projects. One, he put up some money. Two, the community also raised funds, and Three, the community did the labor to build the schools.
This exhibit at the Bob Bullock museum only runs through February 23rd, so I urge all my Austin friends to go before it ends. There is also a former Rosenwald school near Bastrop that has been renovated. The panel discussion after the film talked about this. It is called the Hopewell school and we plan to visit it soon. (American Youthwork’s Youth Build Program put in some labor on this renovation).
Here is where the serendipity keeps on giving…
The film has interviews and photos of many African American celebrities from politicians to those in the arts…actors, singers, poets, composers, business people…people who either went to Rosenwald schools or benefited from Rosenwald’s other philanthropic projects: Rita Dove (poet), Maya Angelou (author, poet), Gordon Parks (photographer, filmmaker), John Lewis (politician, activist), Marian Anderson (singer)……
On the way home from the museum we stopped to pick up our mail. There was only one piece. The envelope’s stamp was a picture of John Lewis!
At Christmas I was gifted a book that I had never heard of and now am currently about 3/4 of the way through this novel. It is based on the friendship between Eleanor Roosevelt and Mary McLeod Bethune. It follows their friendship and how they worked together to advance the rights of black people in this country. Two women with different skin colors working together. The authors of the book are two women, one white and one black. One episode in the book is about securing a public appearance for the singer Marian Anderson when the DAR refuses to let her sing in Constitution Hall in Washington, D. C. She ends up singing for a huge crowd at the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. The book is entitled The First Ladies and the authors are Marie Benedict and Victoria Christopher Murray.
Flipping through t.v. channels earlier this month I came across a film on PBS about the poet Paul Laurence Dunbar. I had heard the name but was not familiar with his work. I learned that Maya Angelou’s title “I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings” is based on a line from one of Mr. Dunbar’s poems (“Sympathy”).
See what I mean? ….birds,singers, arts, education, history of our country and the struggles of blacks in this country…
There is a threat to dismantle and destroy the U. S. Department of Education right now…and any kind of diversity initiatives. What can we do? We can all take positive actions to lift up our values, be it contacting our representatives, to showing up in solidarity, to giving money to those organizations that lift up our sisters and brothers, neighbors and friends. No matter your political sympathies, the current destruction of our government will affect us all.
Take action with Love in your heart and as John Lewis is quoted:
“Get in good trouble, necessary trouble, and help redeem the Soul of America.”
*”Lift Every Voice and Sing” is the title of what is called The Black National Anthem and was written by James Weldon Johnson.
*I don’t know whether or not a Rosenwald School ever got built in Franklin Parish, Louisiana on the land my great grandmother donated.
Links:
donorschoose.org Donate directly to individual teacher’s projects
Last month I was expecting Spring and actively looking for signs of the early anemones. I looked for them everyday in my front yard. On February 18th I saw the first ones!
AnemonesA Host of Anemones At The Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center (February 2024)Purple Anemone At The Wildflower Center
The first day of Spring is celebrated in North America on the Spring Equinox, I am celebrating Spring now because so much fresh life is emerging all around. Green shoots are coming up from the ground and sprouting from tree branches. And there is the blooming of flowers…from the pinky purple buds on my redbud tree to the purple spiderwort blossoms popping out every day. The days are getting longer and warmer. Birds are becoming more vocal and active. Some will soon leave to breed farther North (white throated sparrow seen below), while we welcome other species home from their wintering grounds in the South. I am guessing some of you have already seen some purple martins (early Spring arrivals). Other critters are emerging on sunny days (lizards, snakes, insects)
White Throated Sparrow At Wildflower Center (ready to fly North to spend the warmer months)Carolina Wren Wondering What Their Significant Other Is Up ToSignificant Other Taking A Dust Bath In Potting Soil In Our Raised Garden BedAnole Sunning On My Porch Glider
I am embracing them all in my heart and soul, these little joys of Spring.
And, No, I didn’t forget! The Blue bonnets are starting to bloom!
Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center (February 2024)
My part of Texas is awash in wildflowers right now. In the past month I have taken numerous trips to Austin’s Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center to walk and to marvel at the bounty of Spring. So much beauty to ooh and aah over, especially our Texas Blue Bonnets.
Texas Blue Bonnet
On some of the outer trails my eyes are drawn to the large patches of blue. I am reminded of our ubiquitous Blue Bonnet paintings.
Trail At Wildflower Center
Go to an art gallery showcasing Texas landscape art and you will find paintings of Blue Bonnets…Longhorn cattle in Blue Bonnets…barbed wire fences and Blue Bonnets…old trucks and Blue Bonnets. These have been popular for years and they sell well. People ooh and aah over them. Somewhere there is probably a painting of a T-Rex in a field of Blue Bonnets.
And then there are the photos. People trample swaths of these flowers to pose their children and dogs next to them. The Wildflower Center does have a couple of designated areas where visitors can pose with the Blue Bonnets without destroying them. I have done this myself with family and friends. They are pretty, but this kind of gets boring after a while. I seek out the other flowers sprinkled among and near the blue ones. The real Texas landscape has many kinds and colors of flowers. Every color you can imagine.
Tansy Aster (?)Chocolate Daisy (leaves smell like chocolate)Orange Mallow and Texas Yellow StarTexas Paintbrush With Other FlowersTexas Paintbrush and Blue Bonnets
Variety is the spice of life. Each living creature adds to the beauty of the world. I like to think of each human as an individual flower with a unique beauty. What if, in our urban and suburban landscapes, we celebrated the diversity of the people we see as we walk through our towns and shop in our stores? What if we oohed and aahed at the beauty of each person? It might be a bit weird if we did this out loud, but we can do this inside ourselves. And maybe we would greet them with a smile and the world would be a better, more loving place…at least for that one day for those people…the admired and the one admiring.
(I was going to subtitle this month’s blog “Pollyanna on her soapbox with pretty pictures”…I do believe each of us who model this sort of love for our fellow creatures can influence others. )
Texas Paintbrush and Blue Bonnets
*(All photos taken by the author at the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center except for the last photo which was taken at McKinney Falls State Park)
It is a July morning, the only good time to sit outside when we are experiencing 100 and 100 plus temperatures. We sit out in our backyard sipping coffee. The breeze is pleasant, rustling the leaves in the burr oak above us. There is a bright, blue sky with fluffy, white clouds, drifting and shifting shape.
I have my binoculars close by, and my eyes scan the sky above our roof. My husband’s eyes are glued to the news on his Ipad.
Two people. Alike and not alike.
“Look! A Mississippi Kite!” I point at the soaring grey bird, it’s white head helping me identify it. My husband looks up briefly.
We both hear a far off engine noise. He taps and scrolls and says, “That is a Gulf Stream 4 private jet flying from Cabo San Lucas to Austin.” We look up and see the plane heading east. My husband has an app on his Ipad that shows a photo of the plane, the name of the plane, and the route it is taking.
“A White Egret…it is flying east too,” I declare, as I follow it with my binoculars.
“DC-9-15 (F) USA Jet Airlines heading from San Antonio to Detroit at 29,000 feet.” We watch it head north until the tree obscures our view.
Flying things in the sky. Alike. And not alike.
My eyes spot swallows flitting about up high. I can’t identify them.
“Boeing 737-79P. Southwest Airlines from Austin to Denver.”
A black chinned hummingbird zooms past us. As I follow it, I spot another Mississippi Kite. “Oh look, honey! Did you see it?”
“Yes, that was a Piper PA-46-350P Malibu Mirage…a private prop plane…going from Houston to Ruidoso at 24,000 feet.”
This morning I saw a You Tube video entitled “Ukraine President Zelensky welcomes Spring in Kyiv.” It is 18 seconds long and was posted on March 8th. He is outside with his cell phone doing a selfie, showing sandbags and snow in the background. I don’t understand the language, but the subtitles say:
“It is snowing.
This is what Spring looks like.
The Spring is similar to the war we experience.
Spring is harsh.
But everything will be fine. We will win.”
The date March 8th is interesting. That is also International Women’s Day.
It is a beautiful Spring day here in Texas. Our red bud tree is blooming and sprouting it’s heart shaped leaves. There is lots of color in the yard with many purple spiderwort flowers and lovely yellow butterflies. But, my mind keeps drifting to the war in Ukraine. I tune in to the news only once a day now. I look at the images: injured children and bombed buildings and scared dogs running in the streets. Sadness and anger well up in me. I can only watch a bit of this.
In late February I thought about writing about nature in Ukraine, of which I knew nothing. So, I googled “Flora and Fauna of Ukraine” and was awed by what I found. According to A-Zanimals.com, Ukraine has almost 50 national parks and many other protected areas. Depending on which part of the country you visit, you might find deer, wolves, hedgehogs, otters, elk, lizards, snakes, owls, white storks (Ukraine’s national bird) and many other animals.
The national animal of Ukraine is the common nightingale. It is a migratory bird, spending winters in Sub Saharan Africa. The nightingale is a sign of Spring in Ukraine. It is also a sign of joy because of it’s pleasant song. Only the unpaired males sing. This makes me think of the separation of women and children from men because of the war.
Back to March 8th. In late February, when I was googling “Flora and Fauna of Ukraine”, I discovered a website for floral delivery (Ukrainedelivery.com). They were advertising sending the women in your life a bouquet in honor of International Women’s Day. They also said “Ukraine is now in the state of war.” They go on to say that you can get a full refund or put your order on hold. Yesterday I revisited the website and it now shows a photo of bomb damage with the words:
“WAR in UKRAINE”
“Russia is killing people in Ukraine”
Note their motto: “Official supplier of LOVE”
I click on “More Information” (dated March 11th,2022) and get these words:
“It is a real war in Ukraine! Thousands of people are being killed by Russia. Women and children are dying because of bombs in the middle of Europe, in the 21st century!
Kiev delivery stops all its operations and services until further notice. We cannot provide any information about anything in Ukraine. We are just closed.
If you want to help- please ask your government to close the sky upon Ukraine! Please help via regular humanitarian channels.”
I have seen stories about women refugees from Ukraine being handed flowers as they crossed into Poland and Romania on International Women’s day. Something to ponder: One origin of International Women’s day was a 1917 Peace Protest by Russian women.
So much I wonder about…have the nightingales returned to Ukraine yet? Are they singing? Are the flowers blooming there now? Will there be peace soon?
Sources:
A-Z-animals.com
Ukrainedelivery.com
Aol.com, msn.com, Youtube.com, Barrons.com, Wikipedia
For the past several months I have been watching live streams of court hearings and trials (mostly from Texas county courts). Because of covid many courts postponed in person trials and finally went online. I have always been interested in what makes people behave the way they do. Watching everything from contested wills and child custody disputes to murder trials, I am getting a front row seat to people’s individual suffering. Not pretty, but fascinating. And I get a good look at the good and bad of our court systems.
(I have learned one main lesson: Do not represent yourself. Get a lawyer if at all possible or get a court appointed one.)
November 2021 is the 200th anniversary of Fyodor Dostoevsky’s birth and is being celebrated worldwide by the International Dostoevsky Society and the North American Dostoevsky Society (https://dostoevsky.org). The only novel of his that I have read is Crime and Punishment. That was many years ago, but the story still has an impact on me. How do I love the sinner? It is an age old religious and philosophical question. Can we love the human even as we hate the crime they committed. How do we do this?
How can anyone love the men who murdered Ahmaud Arbery? And I do not mean forgive. I mean love. Sometimes the loved ones of victims forgive the criminal. How do they do this? Is it part of their religious beliefs? I have a hard enough time forgiving family members for hurting me in much smaller ways.
I ponder these things as I sit outside at the edge of the back porch and clip my fingernails. I do this outside when the weather is nice. I keep an eye out for the ants that often have a parade going on nearby and the wasps that might be checking out the pretty blooming lantana that brushes my left shoulder.
Lantana Blooms
I spot a tiny spider suspended in a web under the bush. I have no trouble loving non human creatures. They act out of survival and not malice. The closer I look at the spider the more beautiful it is. Once again I find solace in the natural world of plants and critters.
Orchard Spider
I leave you with a version of a quote from Fyodor Dostoevsky:
“Love all God’s creation
The whole universe and each grain of sand
Love every leaflet, every ray of God’s light
Love the beasts, love the plants, love every creature.
When you love every creature,
You will understand the mystery of God in created things.”
*Photos by B. McCreary
*Quote from Sunday, February 13, 2005 Order of Service of Wildflower Unitarian Universalist Congregation, Austin, Texas- Blessing of the Animals Service
When you are out for a walk in the woods is there a particular thing you keep an eye out for? Maybe a type of rock or fossil? Maybe you keep your ears tuned to hear a favorite bird. There is a small plant I look for during walks on the nearby greenbelt trail. It is a small, green vine that twines its stem and heart shaped leaves up bushes and trees. It has the prettiest little flowers in the world. The small flowers are shaped like five pointed stars and are graced with streaks of white. In the middle of the star is a single pearl. At least that is what it looks like to me.
I photographed the first one I ever saw and later found out what it was named. It is in the Milkweed family of plants (Asclepiadaceae) and grows in Central and Eastern Texas. It is a Milkweed Pearl Vine (Matelea reticulata). When I see them I point them out to whoever I am with. They are small and can be easily overlooked.
Their seed pods are not dainty and cute like the flowers, but bulky and spiky. Inside the pod are many flat seeds with long, silky hairs to help them drift away. They are a host plant for butterflies such as the Monarch and Queen.
They are another plant that reminds me of my mother because she loved them too. The first one she ever saw was at McKinney Falls State Park. A few years later, she went through docent training to be a volunteer at the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center and chose this plant as her subject to research and write a short paper about. She dug one up on private land near Dripping Springs, Texas. Planted in her backyard it did pretty well.
After our horrible cold snap this past February, I expected so many plants to not come back this Spring. Surprisingly, some plants have come back stronger than ever. This spring I saw more of these Milkweed Pearl Vine flowers in the greenbelt than I have ever seen before. They will disappear next winter, but I am certain to see their sweet faces next year. They will once again be a sweet reminder of my mother.
When you find one of Nature’s little pearls, please share it with a friend.
Resources:
Wildflower.org
“A Hill Country Gem- the Pearl Milkweed Vine”-Barbara Downes
“Wildflowers of the Texas Hill Country” by Marshall Enquist
Natural Musings 