- Crimson Fire -

Though soiled by gossip
She dared never hide her crown;
But run wild instead.

- Burning Questions -

The book rests opened
Balancing his faith on scales 
From a lonely pew.

- The Piano Man -

And so the jester,
Wise in the craft of oiled lies,
Stole your melodies.

Open Country

My window keeps fogging up and I don't understand why. It's clear at times and then it fogs again and I can't see where we are going.

I don't know where we are going. 

He's driving and I don't care.

All I care about is that I'm in the seat next to him and I'm going, too.

But my window keeps going fuzzy and the heat of my breath blows back in my face.

There is an open road ahead of us and I'm squirming in the passenger seat. He tells me to be calm, but I'm not sure I can. An adventure with him is all I need. I'm too happy to settle down.

His window doesn't fog up. But mine does. The closer I get the less I can see and I so badly want to see.

Bushes race past, there is pavement beneath the car running away from us. We push forward and follow the road, up over a hill. Around bends and curves. And I think I'm going to be sick. He sees it in my face and he tells me not to dare. 

My fogged window is rolled down.

Fresh air! I love fresh air! I feel it swimming over my face, through my lungs. I'm flying, but he's with me, keeping me grounded. He takes hold of me so I don't fly away from him. The fresh air. I can't imagine anything more divine and freeing as fresh air.

With my head out the window it becomes too much.

I sneeze all over the dash, his hand, the radio. He makes a noise and wipes the snot on my coat. I don't care. Fresh air is all I need. It makes the sick go away, my ears fly back, my lips to quiver. It's the kind of thing that makes a dry nose wet. 

That's all I need in this world. Fresh air, adventures, and him.

Don't Say His Name - Remember the Place - Remember the People

Today I am supposed to write a flash fiction post.... and perhaps later I will. But in the meantime I offer a special post - something special and close to me. 

Between 2011 and 2014 my husband and I lived in the Roseburg, Oregon area where we taught and worked at Umpqua Community College. My husband taught math for three years and I taught yoga and worked in Enrollment Services. I graduated college from here. In the course of those three years we built relationships beyond friendships - we built a small family. And that's just what UCC does - that's just the way it is: a family. 

So yesterday when my family felt panic, terror, anguish, confusion, and loss I felt my heart twist inside itself. While I am thankful to be safe two states away from the shooting, a strong piece of me wishes I could be there with them as they have been there for me in the past. I am fortunate to say that although my old office, our Welcome Center, was only a pathway away from the building it occurred in, all my people are safe and accounted for. But there are still students who I've worked with, helped, pushed to follow their dreams... there are still colleagues from around this incredibly gorgeous campus that I haven't heard from. And my heart is dreading the list that is to come.

Roseburg and UCC have suddenly found themselves in the spotlight in the media. The name "Umpqua" has been butchered by newscasters and the sensationalism of this event rankles my feathers because this is something horrific, not something to make advertising money off of. That aside, I want to share with you what UCC really is. The UCC we all know and love. The UCC that will rebuild and the culture of this campus that will shine through the murkiness of this event. A stronger UCC is to come.

The Place

Roseburg is a gem tucked away in rolling hills of trees, valleys of pasture, and a stunning river which floods and recedes every year. It is home to farming and timber industries - they have commercial businesses for shopping, eating, and employment. They have a small community feel in a big little city. The people are helpful, encouraging, and, at times, struggling. 

On Spring weekends you'll see trailers pulling into the woods in the early hours of morning to collect firewood approved by the Forestry Department and in the autumn crowds flock to Kruse Farms to pick out pumpkins. In the winter it can snow, rain, or shine within minutes of each other. The summers are filled with music at the Half-Shell in the park.

Downtown Roseburg

It's a small town with great local business and delicious food. And pockets of beauty hide in plain sight:

Then there is UCC - sitting on the hill on the north end of town overlooking the winding path of the Umpqua River. When you walk on campus in the early morning you'll cross paths with deer as they take breakfast in the many patches of grass. Bald Eagles fly overhead as you walk to your car in the parking lot. It's a campus that has an almost magical feel to it. I've hosted yoga classes around the main fountain. I've gone on a scavenger hunt for chocolate.  I've been to plays and art shows. Taken classes and volunteered here.

Romeo and Juliet

Romeo and Juliet

Staff, faculty, and administration gather together after the holidays for a Snowflake Social where gifts are auctioned off, food is served, and wine flows. It's a time to build friendships, unwind, and dance! UCC is where I met my best friend - her husband started teaching at UCC the same time as mine, in a different subject. It was a sistership the moment we met. I was present for the birth of their first born, they were there for me as I struggled through coping after the death of a stranger. They are family and I am so glad they are safe. 

Our first year at UCC. Circa 2012.

My best friend and wife.

In the spring they host an event outside where students and community members can play - get out of the office - break the routine and dust off the chill of winter. 

It's a place where people celebrate when the pool finally has water in it again!

The People

The culture of this campus, as I've said, is one of family. The people here are the type who inspire you - like the 70 year old history teacher who summits mountains, bungee jumps, and sky dives in his free time. 

They are people who hold on to you tightly when you find out your husband's teaching contract hasn't been renewed. 

They are the people who celebrate your birthday in style for no reason other than they love you.

My cubicle and favorite foods.

They are the kind of people who do whatever they can to make the day better, brighter, run more smoothly for those around them; staff and students alike.

And on your last day working there, they are the kind of people who make you laugh so hard you cry.

This is my UCC Family, my Welcome Center crew who I spent two years befriending, spending 4th of July with, running amuck at conferences with. They are safe and they are my people. 

Waiting for food at the conference, my partner in crime.

A Hobbit Hole we found at a conference.

My last day - a hard, hard day. I love these women.

Helping with Graduation 2014 in the gym. Amazing women!

They are people who stick with you, in your heart and consciousness, forever. 

People you miss when you are away.

People you look forward to seeing when you come in to work. 

People who make you better. 

I love you all!

This is UCC. 

Not what's happened. 

Not this singular event. 

THIS, all of this, is UCC.

- Grounding -

Thoughts float far away...
A ladybug reminds me
I am earthly bound.

- Speechless -

I know these people.
It's why I sit here dreading
The list that will come.

- Autumn Comes -

Dust hangs in the air
Over petals turned velvet
Through Time's fading light.

- Evening Rains -

Lightning in a flash!
Thunder that cracks like a whip;
Hold close my dear child.

Banned Books Week

Photo by Miranda L. Sober Photography

I was a junior in high school sitting in an English class when I heard about the modern banning of books for the first time. Before class had started, our teacher had written a list of books at all angles across the blackboard that ran down the side of our classroom. As we stared at the list we started to giggle uncomfortably. Books like Where's Waldo by Martin Handford and A Light in the Attic by Shel Silverstein were listed as being recently challenged and we just didn't understand why. We had been taught in history class about book burning and the banning of certain classics, but that was supposed to be history. In the past.

Call me a naive American, but I just didn't think we did that anymore. From an early age we learned about the ideology of the American way: the Constitution, our freedoms, our rights. So yes, I was naive. I had no idea, for the longest time, that members in our country actually broke those freedoms and turned down those rights - and that it was acceptable. As an adult, I am much more aware of the idea of freedom of speech; jaded by the reality of it. 

So I've given myself a new goal in my writing: one day I will write a book that will be challenged and maybe even banned. Not because I was deliberately lewd or graphically gory, but because my message was so strong it rankled someone's feathers and might even be considered too revolutionary for the times. 

Even now, books are being challenged the world over. Small communities in the United States are preventing Harry Potter from entering their schools or The Hunger Games. And then there are the unedited, uncensored versions of the classics - beware, literature depicting the times it was written in will decay your mind.

The two lists below share with us the classics and the modern books who have made someone's naughty list. How many have you read?

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There are a few on this list that surprise me and others that I expected to see. I wonder if 50 Shades of Grey will make the list come the new decade compilation. I've read 4/46 of the Classics and 8/100 of those listed from the last decade. I have some reading to do!

The idea of banning books based on a community's morality, for language, violence, or sexual conduct, has me wondering if we will be banning fewer books in the future as our society becomes desensitized to ideas and literature which would shock our grandparents or our great-grandparents. Is the shortening of this list because we have grown to acknowledge and understand the importance of ending censorship or is it because we are developing a society who just doesn't care anymore. A thought for another day perhaps.

How many banned books have you read?

Did you find any surprises on either of these lists?  

Tell me your thoughts!

- Yuri -

Hidden in the pears,
Inside our kitchen window;
His eyes are watching.

- Eclipse -

Lovers briefly meet
Like ships passing in the night
Dancing in silence.

Mark Jenkins: National Geographic Writer and Explorer

This month the University of Wyoming hosted a guest speaker in my humble little town of Torrington and my office with the University was engaged to help! So there I stood, star-struck and sweaty because Mark Jenkins, author, explorer, and National Geographic Correspondence Writer, was letting me take a selfie with him.

I helped tape on his hands-free microphone, discussed his exploits, and explained my aspirations of making a career out of my writing, briefly mentioning my novel.

He said, "Wow! I've never written a novel!" Genuinely impressed.

This from a man who has summited Everest. Excuse me while I swoon over in the corner.  

I tried to keep my cool around him and he made it rather easy. See, Mark is a Wyoming man, born and raised, and now makes his home in Laramie, Wyoming with his wife and children. He's actually taken a position with the University. This time through Torrington he spoke on his adventure through the largest cave in the world, Sơn Đoòng Cave.

Mark began his presentation informing the crowd of the culture and warm sense of welcome he, an American, received by the Vietnamese community upon his arrival. Rather than a poverty stricken country as many might believe, Vietnam has a thriving economy where "everyone drives scooters." Vietnam is a 1/4 size bigger than Wyoming, but boasts a population of 100 million people! Mark explained that although there were still physical reminders in the country of the Vietnam War (or their American War), 75% of the population were born after the war and so knew only the benefits of the American businesses who are based in their communities and of American aid which came after the war. 

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Overall, Mark concluded, it was a lovely country filled with gracious, inspiring people. 

He gave a brief explanation of what spelunking was and that a caver's biggest fear was drowning rather than claustrophobia. You wouldn't know it unless you were a caver, but it makes sense. Once it begins to rain on the surface, the water flows into the cave from all different directions pooling and flooding within minutes. It's a dangerous sport and after his thorough presentation I can officially say that caving is just not for me. I'll stick to being a tourist in this arena.

The Sơn Đoòng Cave is located in Phong Nha-Kẻ Bàng National Park, Bố Trạch District, Quảng Bình Province,Vietnam. Equipped with two dolines and its largest chamber a staggering 3.1 miles long, 660 feet high, and 490 feet wide this cave knocks down Deer Cave in Malaysia which was once the reigning champion in the cave world. 

The cave was discovered by a young man, Hồ-Khanh, in 1991 and later explored by a British team of cavers who spent 18 years exploring the cave off and on until the 14th expedition which Mark was invited to participate in - the one where they were going to search for the end! (See, for cavers, it's about finding the end of a cave just as much as it is reaching the top of a mountain for climbers.) So this was going to be a monumental experience for all involved. Expedition members included 10 cavers, 20 porters, National Geographic Photographer Carston Peterson, and Mark.

Here is a quick map of the cave. Cavers are taking surveys and making maps of the caves as they go along - naming everything! Mark stated that his British counterparts were particularly fond of puns such as "Hand of Paw" and "The Great Wall of Vietnam" for example.

Click on all the "Source" captions in the bottom left corner to read more information about the pictures.

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Prepping to enter the cave. It was a trek to get to the opening, having to go though an enormous "smaller" cave to get to the beginning of their journey.

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Looking out from the inside of the mouth of the cave, they set up camp for the night and then headed into darkness with only their headlamps to guide them. Mark explained it was complete and total darkness. So dark that your hand in front of your face could not be seen. Cavers have four backup headlamps with them always because to be alone in the dark in a cave can mean getting lost and death.

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Sơn Đoòng Cave is home to some of the largest stalactites in the world! Some reaching to over 200 feet tall. 

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After days in darkness there came a surprise and a gut wrenching feeling of disappointment when they reached their second doline, mistaking it for the exit. Once they realised it was only a skylight, they rejoiced and explored, spending a few additional days camping in the area. This is where Mark became close with the porters who each carried roughly 80 lbs of equipment, batteries, and food for the expedition. The porters packed meat in their own food supply whereas the expedition leaders had packed vegetables and noodles! 

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Dolines are created when the cave roofs collapse, leaving a jungle of vegetation and animal life growing in stark contrast to the sterile environment of the interiors of the cave. This doline was about 1000 feet tall! 

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To see this incredible space in motion, check out the following video from a later expedition by travel photographer Ryan Deboodt:

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Mark noted they did find a few bugs, most notably, a white spider who had evolved beyond the need for eyes, within the caves. (Um, no thank you!)

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This 200 feet tall calcite wall was dubbed "The Great Wall of Vietnam" and it stood in their way of the end. The task fell to two of the cavers to climb up, drilling holes for loops of fabric which acted as a ladder for the rest of the team to follow them up. Power drills were employed along with grit and manpower to get the team up. It took more than a day's work to accomplish the feat.

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Out. The end. The exit of the cave. For scale purposes, you see the little white dot to the right of the mass in the middle? Yep. That's a person.

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Recently, the Sơn Đoòng Cave has opened to tourists, allowing guided tours at $3000 per person! Permits must be obtained to visit the cave and only 500 were issued for the 2015 season. 

Mark's most recent article in National Geographic is about his climb of a mountain in Myanmar!

You can find Mark's travel and adventure books below, click on the book title caption to go to Amazon:

A Man's Life                                            To Timbukto                                    The Hard Way                             Off the Map

- Lunar Love -

It's a beautiful evening;
To be gazing at the moon.
Finding it's dimples
And swimming in craters.
It's dance partner is setting
To a symphony of crickets.
And here am I;
Bathing in its light.
Firmly planted on this earth.

Anchors

Inches at a time I creep higher.

The taupe rock face presses against my body as I cling to the edge. My fingers are caked in chalk, my toes sore from shallow footholds. There are few places to grip. Even fewer to find rest. And as the sun beats down on me, the sweat glistening on my back I can feel my heart beating faster.

I'm nearly there. Closer to the peak than I have ever been and my rope has just run out. I'm forced to pause here, to slow my momentum and make a decision. A rope is a safety line; a friend who reaches out when you fall. It is my protector. But I must go forward. I must see the top. I must keep going.

Dust rolls over the stone wall and brushes me in the face, sticking to it. I can taste the earthiness mingled with my own salt. The harness feels heavy against my hips. It anchors me to the surface, pulls me down, connects me to the earth in a way my shoes on the city streets do not. And my heart is beating. My decision is coming on faster. My fingers are working quickly while my mind focuses on this weight, my anchor. The rope is looped; responsible now for holding this mountain in place.

And I move forward. Heart resounding in my ears, pulsing in my fingertips. If I could only fly.