How The Wind Doth Blow

I dreamt about tornados again.

However, unlike the times at night that I vividly saw the dark mass of angry wind coming towards me when my life was so chaotic ten years ago, this swirling accumulation of black debris was blocked in levels - monstrous and roaring. And, as always before, my gripping, groping panic turned my feet into wings, and I gathered those who, and that which, are dear to me - and I fled to safety.

Yes, my life is a pandemonium of both detriment and delight, and I feel as though I am, once again, clutching, with every cell in my body, the frayed ends of the whip.

This time the air is buffeting me, trying mightily to knock me off my feet. I bend, sometimes nearly to the ground, but have not yet broken, and stare the roiling monster back. Deterred, the midnight coil deperately spawns its brood and, in multiplicity, they each pummel those who are standing around me as well.

I know that not all will withstand the onslaught, and will be brutalized with intensity so severe that they may be irrevocably damaged. Or not.

But I am calm in the knowledge that I will survive.

Sanctuary

The drive to the wolf preserve in Divide took the line of four cars nearly an hour from our cabins in Manitou Springs. The vehicles were filled with old and new friends, and all were there to celebrate the 50th birthday of mutual friend, L.

Every one of the ladies there loved L, but none so much as V, who put the whole thing together as a surprise. This birthday was special to L in so many ways.

As I followed the car ahead of me, nestled between the yellow line on the left and the white line separating the highway from the shoulder on the right, my mind wandered to the evening before. While all of the ladies pitched in here and there with the dinner preparations, L had revealed that she had been diagnosed with breast cancer, and had surgery planned in two weeks time.

Some already knew but I was startled with the news.  I watched L as she smiled and joked with everyone, her mood positive with life, and I began to relax despite myself. The margaritas and wine were flowing, the ambiance was joyous, female voices rose in song with the tunes coming from the stereo, and all was still well with the world. L's mood set the tone of the night and I was all too willing to follow. As I continued to watch, L led the group, now sitting or reclining on the assorted chairs and the hollowed-out old sofa, drinks in hand, in singing some old songs everyone seemed to know. Soon, the joyous voices were spent, and the conversation turned to mutual stories, each one more humorous than the last. Filled with liquid spirits and much joviality, the smiles and tear-stained cheeks in copious amounts left us all gasping with mirth. It had been years since I had experienced so much fun with such a wonderful group of women.

The car ahead of me suddenly signaled and turned left, and I turned as well. My car was almost immediately ensconced in a microburst of brown dust billowing out from the cars in front. After nearly a mile of twisting turns, the rise and the fall of the road came to an end in a small parking lot. Nine ladies brightly piled out of the four cars and headed in through the gate and up the dirt packed driveway to the preserve's entrance and visitor center.

Waiting for our tour time turned out to be quite easy as we browsed the gift shop selections of prints, stuffed animals, postcards, and other assorted "green" lupine items. Finally, our tour was ready.

However, before we were allowed through the door, we were given very strict parameters about viewing the still wild animals on the other side. Duly cautioned, the nine of us filed outside with a jumble of other expectant observers.

Before us lay very large fenced areas peppered with tall Blue Spruce pines, copses of shivering-leaved aspens, and stony humps of rock formations. We followed the tour guide carefully throughout the sanctuary, staying away from fences, and quietly keeping to the suggested sides of the wide path. All of us seemed to be in awe of the great regal beasts lounging or pacing their areas with watchful, golden eyes.

Domiciled in the enclosures were Arctic Wolves, Timber Wolves, Wolf-dogs, Mexican grey wolves, Coyotes, and Red Foxes. All of the inhabitants, mostly paired up in each compund, were astonishingly beautiful as well, and completely at ease in their new homes. While walking, we learned that the sanctuary had been started in 1993 when Darlene Kobobel rescued Chinook, a wolf dog (wolf-hybrids were popular back in the late 1980's and early 1990's) and promptly created a rescue center for the unwanted and unmanageable wolf-dogs.

This soon grew and,after some fits and jumps, money issues, and relocation obstacles, she opened the Colorado Wolf and Wildlife Center in June 2003. It continues to expand with the need for the preservation of, and the education about, these misunderstood - feral, savage, tremendously remarkable and beautiful - creatures.

After walking the extent of the paths, the tour group was soon gathered tightly together by the enclosures near the exit. The tour guide gently asked the entire group to be totally silent for a moment, and to listen to the sounds of the inhabitants of the sanctuary.

Then she softly asked us to follow her lead as she said goodbye to the great beasts we had just visited. Her voice rose in a solitary wail, rising in both pitch and volume, and we heard the lonely return salutation of the coyote in front of us. As our voices joined hers, the most amazing sound greeted us - the bays and howls of all of the wolves, coyotes and foxes in the circle around us, started to rise and fall magically amidst the pine trees and aspens. As the choir of beasts and humans ebbed, we all stood quietly with our breaths held. We had just communed with primeval itself, and our joined voices were lifted off into the trees by the wind.

I still get goose bumps reliving that wonderful day, and of that magical weekend of women, bonded together by our mutual love, and respect for, L.

If you would like more information on the wolf sanctuary, please visit this link:

http://www.wolfeducation.org/  

A Hop, Skip and a Jump...

Good Bye Heart Home...

09-05-09 Saturday


Ah, perhaps it is time to head home. I wake up at 2:45 a.m. and whether it is because of my possible sighing/moaning/name-it, or whether it is because of my restless log roll trying to get comfortable, or even if it is because I am feeling bittersweet about leaving Scotland, I cannot get back to sleep. I turn the TV on to while away the morning hours and groggily try to find something on in this wee hour of the morning. CG wakes, asks if I am ok, and then goes back to sleep when I tell him yes. Finally, to the pleasant drone of British accents on the BBC, I fall asleep at 3:30, only to be re-awakened at 5:00 by the wakeup call placed last night through the front desk (ugh).

We are ready by 5:45 in anticipation of the shuttle at 6:00 and take advantage of the luggage scale in the lobby (thank goodness they are both well under the 50 lb limit – even with the spirited stones!). We are not the only ones on the shuttle this morning (it picks up more passengers the closer we get to the airport), and CG and I sit apart from each in the now crowded cab.

We extricate ourselves, grab our luggage and head inside. After walking nearly the length of the terminal, we realize that our airline’s ticket counter hasn’t opened yet, and we sit down and wait. Finally, as the line grows ahead of us, the lights go on over the KLM counter and we take our place behind the crowd.

After getting our tickets we head towards the gate and, after locating it, we decide to do a little last souvenir shopping, and then grab some breakfast to pass the time before our flight leaves at 8:30. We are pleasantly surprised to find that the airport restaurant we have chosen has our favorite on the menu, and CG has one last full Scottish breakfast while I polish off a bacon/scrambled egg Panini. Then it’s back to Gate 33 where we mill around until our seats are called.

However, when the KLM employee comes out at 8:00, she has some bad news for all of us – due to technical difficulties, the flight from Amsterdam has been turned back and therefore our flight has been cancelled. We all have to be escorted by airport personnel back to reclaim our baggage and then stand in a queue for two hours before we are able to rebook our flight.

By the time we get back to our new gate, we don’t have much time to linger as the flight to Amsterdam leaves at 11:30 and, after landing in the Netherlands, we literally have to run to our next gate to catch our connecting flight to Detroit (instead of returning through Minneapolis). The flight seems doubly long this time and I take advantage of the in-flight movies to watch both Grand Torino (CG also watches that one from his seat) and Hairspray.

The flight home from Detroit seems shorter, but we are still anxious to get off of the airplane and back into the Saab waiting for us in the airport parking lot.

After paying a whopping $99 to leave the airport parking lot, we are home by 10:00 p.m. – some 15 hours and 7 time zones later. AM has left a somewhat frantic message for me to call back so I return her call. Seems as though she thought we were returning the day before, and she had been worried that she hadn’t heard from us. After putting her to ease, I am in bed by midnight and CG, still a bit keyed up and having missed his favorite home activity, plays World of Warcraft until 1:30 a.m.

We are home!