Author: Juliana Lightle

Covid19–3

/ Juliana Lightle / 1 Comment

Internet and modern technology make quarantining easier. Today is my birthday and for the first time in my life I am alone on this day.  It could have been a lonely, sad day I suppose but it has been good; modern technology has enabled me to FaceTime with my college roommate and her husband in California, to exchange messages with three of my former exchange students scattered across the world, France, Italy, Thailand, receive birthday wishes on Facebook from around 80 people I know from everywhere, and message family and friends.  Some of them and I have exchanged little conversations, catching up on who is doing what where.

This morning I almost finished all the work I need for Google Classroom this week.  This afternoon I have spent a sizable chunk of time outside watering, fertilizing bushes, chopping down some weeds.  After I finish writing this, I will go back out and complete the watering.  Mostly I have plants for our dry climate and water only what is necessary.

Yesterday was the perfect sunny weather for taking some wild flower photos.  Everywhere yellow flowers carpet the land. Here and there white ones appear as well.

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Inside an orchid that resisted blooming for two years has changed its mind and several other plants are in full flower.  All this beauty makes hanging out at home so much easier.

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Stay home.  Be safe.

Covid19–2

/ Juliana Lightle / 3 Comments

The saga of staying sane, learning new skills, keeping occupied continues.  When I posted Covid19–1 a couple of days ago, the Panhandle of Texas had two cases, now we have ten, one of whom, at the age of 39, has died.  Another 30 something is in critical condition.  A case was announced this morning at Cannon Air Force Base just across the state line.

Yet, I can think of positives arriving from this:  people at home reading, spending more time with family, cooking, playing games, relearning old skills.

What have I done recently?  I teach high school English and Spanish.  Starting Monday, we will be teaching online using Google Classroom.  I have used it before but not for over a year.  Probably overkill, but yesterday I spent something like four hours taking a class on how to use it and relearning.  More to come today.  I have the English lessons hand written, all planned out.  Now I have to convert them to Google Classroom. Perhaps with Spanish I will change course totally and use Duo Lingo for many of the lessons.  Did that last year, but not this one.

Luckily, living out in country, having horses, having lots of gardening to accomplish makes this quite a bit easier.  Horses have to be fed and cared for, weeds require hoeing or mulching, dead wood must be cut out of woody plants, the tasks seem endless.  Since we are having a heatwave and temperatures are considerably above normal, I can hike, walk the long drive to the mailbox, eat lunch on the patio as I did yesterday.  The mustard weeds out by the barn suddenly grew more than two feet tall; it was driving me nuts–I cannot stand mustard weeds.  Yesterday afternoon, I got out the tractor and mowed.  They are tough.  When I fed the horses this morning, I saw a few had regenerated themselves and were sticking up again. I might have to do this over.

In the midst of this crisis, I have noticed far too many people around here seem not to take this seriously.  It appears, looking at the news, that this is a problem in many parts of the country.  Do we want to be like Italy?  I received a message from Martina there.  More and more dying and no end in site.  When I stepped out on the patio this morning to take the photo that appears below, the traffic on the main road was as loud as it is when nothing is happening, when people are not asked to stay home.  Is no one complying?  Why?

Meanwhile I will take advantage of all the positive things I can find in this–communicate with friends and family all over the world, garden, cook, learn more Google Classroom, relearn some pieces on the piano, water before the predicted wind for tomorrow occurs, brush the shedding hair off my horses, read, and perhaps join the online Zumba class in San Antonio at 4.  Life, even in times of crisis, is what you make of it.

Be safe!  Learn something new!  Laugh out loud!

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Covid19–1

/ Juliana Lightle / Leave a comment

Will many record their experiences during this difficult time?  I have no idea.  However, a thought came to me yesterday that I should–not sure why, just that this is something I should do.  Interesting because I am not really into “shoulds.”

Because Martina, the exchange student who lived with me this time last year, lives n Milano, I have realized the seriousness of this for weeks.  She and her family have been quarantined for so long that I have lost track of just how long.  A couple of days ago her mother had to go to the grocery.  It took her four hours to get through the line.  She has a grandfather over 90; they worry about him; he is scared.

Yet, here in the Panhandle of Texas, many fail to realize just how awful this can get.  Until yesterday, when they had no choice due to the statewide mandate, they went out to eat, exercised at the gym, congregated in mass at bars, you name it. Now schools are closed until April 3 when the situation will be re-evaluated.

In the last ten days the only places I have gone are the grocery, the doctor’s office–for an awful allergy attack.  Luckily, I live out in the country, have horses.  They have to be fed twice a day, their runs cleaned.  Today it is 70, the patio doors are open; I might even take a little hike later.  Just me and Athena, my black, standard poodle.

Luckily, it has been spring break so I have had plenty of time to think about what to do with myself as I keep myself quarantined–I am not even going to my daughter and grandson’s house–I really miss seeing them.  What do I do:  have read two books, almost finished crocheting a poncho, worked one warm day in the garden, graded all the papers I brought home and posted them, cared for the horses, cooked, communicated with friends worldwide–Covid19 is everywhere, watched some TV, mostly news and documentaries.  One thing I will do every day is act as if I am actually going somewhere, put on my makeup, get dressed, have a plan for the day.

This morning I went to the grocery.  What did I do when I returned home?  I left the bag outside to air–will disinfect it shortly, I took off my clothes in the laundry room and put them to wash.  Then I took a hot shower.  Why all this you ask?  The virus can stay in your clothes for 24 hours.  There were more people in the store in the morning than I expected.  Are they healthy, virus free?  No idea.  In the county where I live, there have been two cases already.  I do not want to risk it.  Although I am healthy, I am in one of the higher risk categories due to my age.  I do not mind dying, but who wants to die from this?  I don’t.

It is a nice spring day outside, the wild flowers are starting to bloom, and I need to relearn how to use Google Classroom because that is how I will be teaching English and Spanish until who knows exactly when.  I have used it before over a year ago.  I need to refresh myself.

Here are a few pictures of the wild flowers around my house.  After this, review Google Classroom and maybe play the piano for a bit.

Take care of yourselves.  Be safe. Be wise.

 

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Desert

/ Juliana Lightle / 1 Comment

Give me the long view

the endless space,

let my bones gleam white

beneath a desert willow

where a diamondback seeks shade.

 

Let me walk through red rock, climb to eternity,

stretch arms into the azure, crystalline air,

laugh out loud.

 

Give me the long view,

let me laugh out loud,

look down the Kaibab

Plateau into eternity.

 

Let me sing songs to emptiness,

to stark, open, free,

dance in sun, moonlight,

laugh out loud.

 

Give me the long view.

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Student Poems–Four

/ Juliana Lightle / Leave a comment

In the beginning of the world

nature provided.

Poachers, factories, deforestation,

We abuse nature.

Nature now has too much to carry,

Greed, selfishness, money.

Nature is being destroyed.

We are the ones who have destroyed.

If we continue,

then no one knows what the future will hold.

Luke Mason

 

 

All the birds are chirping.

The dogs are barking.

The leaves are falling.

The deer are eating.

As we lay here

in these oakwood desks

Learning!

Animals get to relax

and eat.

While we learn and

work.

WHY!

Ellwood Jennings.

 

 

The sun,

The moon,

The animals.

This is nature.

When the sun goes down

the moon comes out.

Animals howl, bellow and bark.

They are all part of

the animal kingdom.

This is nature.

 

Brooke Madill

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Student Poems-Three

/ Juliana Lightle / 1 Comment

Three poems follow:

Nature

Nature is

a beautiful place

so start

kicking that

can all over

the place

we will

we will

rock

you

Ethan Singletary

 

As I am laying at home

I hear a loud thunderous noise

The sound startled me out of my seat

I looked out the window

There was a giant funnel

I heard the tornado siren

As the trees were coming out of ground

I run downstairs to take cover

The storm was ruling the land, but

I was safe from the natural catastrophe.

Makenna Byrd

 

The Grip

As the wind blows and the storm flows through this

Desolate wasteland

As you wonder the numbing thunder puts you at peace

As the wind whips and the storm grips the desolate ground

As it whirls and twirls bringing wreckage

to the sky

Someone brings a tractor to clean up

this decay

For this storm may bring sorrow but all through

the hollow the great sorrow is met with a great

peace

As the family sifts among the rubble and

finds on this trouble at least they are in

one piece

Corbin McKinney

 

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Student Poems-Two

/ Juliana Lightle / 1 Comment

Here is the next set:

 

The Beauty of Nature

 

Nature is everywhere

It teaches you how to share,

God created nature

With beauty you can always capture,

Without it there will be no peace

Everywhere will soon cease,

Nature includes some of the biggest animals

Like the awesome looking camel,

Nature has everything from Willow Trees

All the way down to bumblebees,

Nature is everywhere.

 

Jaci Allen

 

life vs. nature

 

spring, summer

winter, fall

these are the seasons of the year

nature’s crazy

nature’s fun

nature has something for everyone

it can be scary

not so sweet

life’s like nature scary and fun

when times are tough rivers run

we may cry laugh and smile

life’s emotions drive me wild

 

Jordin Arnaud

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Student Poems–One

/ Juliana Lightle / 2 Comments

After reading nature poems by Denise Levertov and Wendell Berry, the students wrote their own nature poems.  Ten wanted me to post their poems on my blog,  As as consequence, I will post two student poems each day.  Here is the first set.

 

In late fall evening

There are leaves falling

and they are crunching

under your feet

as the birds fight

for the tree with the

most leaves My family

watches football in

the warm cozy house

of ours.

 

Trey Matthews.

 

 

Nature is beautiful

and helps you see,

the wild is suitable

for you and me.

Nature helps you grow

in strength and mindset,

and helps you realize

your true assets.

Look around and see

the beautiful world God made for me.

 

Bailee McAlister

 

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Beauty

/ Juliana Lightle / Leave a comment

Once I was married to a man who sarcastically commented that I could find beauty anywhere.  It’s probably true.  Taking a hike in semi-arid country, I find tiny flowers, hidden lichens, cactus the size of my thumbnail.  I keep thinking of the miniscule lavender flowers near the rock walkway by the garage.  They only appear briefly in the spring.  They are so tiny, tinier than my pinkie nail.  How can I see them?  They stand out so brightly against the rocks, they’re hard to miss.  Well, hard for me to miss.

Every natural place has its own beauty.  I can only think of one place I’ve been where I questioned this:  a place on the Interstate east of LA next to the Arizona border.  In June when it was 118 and the hot wind nearly knocked me over, I recall asking myself, “How can anyone live here?”  Yet I’ve seen photos of the same desert carpeted with hot pink flowers in the spring.

Every natural place has its own beauty.  You just have to be open to seeing., feeling, experiencing  its magic.

 

Note:  This essay was part of an assignment for a writing class from the Story Circle Network.  The assignment is to write six minutes each day using just one word to get you started and writing about that word. You can make a list of topics or just pick a word out of a book.  The teacher is Yesim Cimcoz. It would seem I never took of photo of the tiny flower mentioned above.  Below are photos of native flowers taken around my house.

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The World in One Room

/ Juliana Lightle / Leave a comment

 

Four jaguar heads stare at me,

Mexican, Costa Rican.

A third guards the mantel,

partially hidden in tropical plants,

attack ready, tail raised, jaws open,

teeth bared.

 

My feet rest on a coffee table

carved in Kashmir.  I look at the photo

of the young man whose family made it.

He took me home to meet his mom,

to the floating market.

Once peace reigned there.

Now I wonder if he is safe, alive.

 

The Hoop Dancer raises his arms,

the Acoma pot exudes ancient

black on white beauty, painted

by the tips of yucca stems.

The Thai Spirit House begs

to appease evil spirits.

I should put food and flowers there;

I never do.

 

Corn plant of life–for Navaho, Hopi,

me, painted, growing up my wall,

blue and red birds flitting through

the stalks, singing ancient songs.

Corn Maiden rug hanging on the wall;

an Isleta Pueblo girl won a contest

with its design.  Four Corn Maiden

Kachinas watch the room.

Corn everywhere–Sacred Corn.

 

Three Ethiopian crosses, St. George

and the Dragon, Frida Kahlo doll,

Argentinian Madonna, Tohono O’odham

baskets, a painted cow skull, Nigerian carved

wooden elephants, including a Chieftains chair,

the stained glass transom window from the house

where my dad lived from birth to ten.

 

In a room filled with windows, there

is little room for paintings, yet–

purple bison glide across the prairie,

an Iraqi woman flies through an azure

sky filled with dark blue birds,

a 15th century mystic, Kabir, tells

a tale in poetry, Navaho spirits,

pumas walking toward me–

my obsession.

 

Rugs scattered–Kerman,

an unknown Persian city, Afghani,

Egyptian, Indian, Zapotec, scraps of old

Turkish rugs sewn together.

 

In one cabinet, Grandmother’s china,

Mom’s Czech crystal–a wedding present

decades ago, Grandson’s painted art,

the silverware Dad gave Mom on their

first wedding anniversary,  Mom’s

everyday dishes–flowers blooming.

I use them every day.

 

These objects–a testament to who I am:

World wanderer, seeker, citizen.

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