Meteorite!

On December 11, my women's circle was disbanding. We stood around the driveway and porch, chatting, enjoying the cold night air.

As we talked, time suddenly stood still for me. I watched a fluorescent green glowing ball arc across the sky over the trees. There was a yellowish-green tail arching behind it. The center of the green ball was glowing yellow. Although I only saw it for a moment, I noticed intricate details of the bizarre sight. I was impressed by the fact that there was no defined border to this thing; it had an indistinct exterior. I seemed to be moving too.

It felt like an hour that I stood with my mouth open, staring. Only one other woman saw something bright out of the corner of her eye. I'd been knocked out of my own life for an eternity, staring at this strange apparition, then dropped back onto my porch.

When I was in art school, I stood talking with a fellow student one evening. I saw a similar sight - a glowing green ball sweeping through the sky. Later I learned that it was a meteorite entering the atmosphere and landing. A piece of the galaxy, falling to earth.

My second meteorite sighting! That must be significant.

I called the meteorologist at the local weather channel. He told me that the Geminid Meteor Shower was due to start the next evening, and said that I must have seen one of the very first meteors. When I told him it was huge and glowing green with a tail, he was quite surprised. Apparently meteorites of that size were not what he expected.

A piece of a comet hurtled through the dark space between planets for untold numbers of years, then tore through our atmosphere and landed near my house. I stood on my porch on a cold night at 10:00 pm and saw it fly past.

What might it mean, to see a piece of blazing interplanetary debris landing in my neighborhood? What might it mean that I saw one in Maryland 20 years ago and one in Colorado now? Maybe it signifies big changes. Shortly after seeing that first meteorite, my marriage ended. Presumably it would be a different type of change this time.

I wonder what had happened on that comet before it broke into pieces called meteors... Did any creatures live there? How do we know? Maybe there were creatures that our instruments can't detect. What was the surface like? If a piece of the meteorite sits in someone's back yard in my neighborhood, there might be pieces of that comet's history remaining.

I wish I could find it. I'm grateful to have seen something so surprising and otherworldly, but I do wish I could find the meteorite. I'd like to hold it and dream of where it's been.

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From the Hubble Observatory's website www.hubblesite.org:

What is the difference between a meteor, a meteoroid and a meteorite?

Most of us probably have seen meteors or shooting stars. A meteor is the flash of light that we see in the night sky when a small chunk of interplanetary debris burns up as it passes through our atmosphere. "Meteor" refers to the flash of light caused by the debris, not the debris itself.

The debris is called a meteoroid. A meteoroid is a piece of interplanetary matter that is smaller than a kilometer and frequently only millimeters in size. Most meteoroids that enter the Earth's atmosphere are so small that they vaporize completely and never reach the planet's surface.

If any part of a meteoroid survives the fall through the atmosphere and lands on Earth, it is called a meteorite. Although the vast majority of meteorites are very small, their size can range from about a fraction of a gram (the size of a pebble) to 100 kilograms (220 lbs) or more (the size of a huge, life-destroying boulder).

From Wikipedia, regarding the Geminid Meteor Shower:

The Geminids are a meteor shower caused by an object named 3200 Phaethon, which is thought to be an extinct comet. The meteors from this shower can be seen in mid-December and usually peak around 12-14 of the month. The Geminid shower is thought to be intensifying every year and recent showers have seen 120-160 meteors per hour under optimal conditions. The Geminids were first observed only 150 years ago, much more recently than other showers such as the Perseids and Leonids.

The meteors in this shower appear to come from a radiant in the constellation Gemini (hence the shower's name). However, they can appear almost anywhere in the night sky, and often appear yellowish in hue. The meteors travel at medium speed in relation to other showers, at about 22 miles per second, making them fairly easy to spot. The Geminids are now considered by many to be the most consistent and active annual shower. In 2005, viewing of the shower was restricted due to a full moon washing out the fainter meteors. The 2006 shower will have a less full moon.

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Sunrises, Sunsets & Everything In Between

The cold winds blew me across deserts and prairies, past buttes and antelopes. They deposited me in the juniper-scented foothills of the Sandia Mountains, under a wide warm watermelon sunset.

I played with my 2 year old grandson, and ate green chile rellenos. I smiled and my heart grew two sizes, one for each of his years of grandma-loving life.

On the tiring long drive home, I stopped at the home of fellow bloggarina, Birdie (www.lapajaro.com). We spent just enough time together to ensure that there would be future visits and interesting gifts exchanged. Not enough time, but just enough. We discovered how much we have in common, including our hairdos and furniture! I love her eyes. All three of her birds nipped my fingers softly. My scabbed hands bear the evidence of the visit. Frankie the Pig was out at a friend's house.

We arrived back in the land of deer, foxes and Pikes Peak. No dog greeted us at our lonely door. But in a reminder of the constant renewal of life, the two bunny boys were overjoyed at our return. So was our elderly limping cat.

Life's cycles are working overtime on my behalf. Losing a father, finally meeting a new friend, missing my dog terribly, loving my two young rambunctious bunnies, playing with a little grandson, helping to ease my cat's last few months, supporting my nephew as he mourns the death of his best lifelong friend. Discontinuing with an important teacher and gaining a surprise new teacher out of the blue.

Sunrises, sunsets, and everything in between. I feel alive!

Gypsy

Two weeks ago, my beautiful, loving best friend Gypsy died suddenly of a seizure. She wasn't old. She'd been having small seizures for a year.

I'm beginning to get used to walking without my shadow beside me - to going out the door without her rapturous excitement preceding me - to going for a ride in the car alone - to working with clients all by my non-wagging self - to sleeping without hearing her running and barking in her dreams. I'm getting used to being greeted only by a silent house when I come home.

Nobody eats the cat food any more, other than the cat, so I can leave the bowls on the floor now. There isn't much red fur accumulating on the carpet these last two weeks. I haven't vacuumed as much. I don't have to stop what I'm doing every afternoon to spend five minutes quietly hugging the dog any more. That gives me more time to work.

I wonder if maybe the afternoon hugs were for my benefit.

I never wanted to be accustomed to this.

Who's There?

Knock-knock-knock-knock

...pause...

Knock-knock-knock-knock

I wondered why my mysterious early-morning visitor didn't ring the bell.

Knock-knock-knock-knock

I looked out the window and saw that nobody was at the front door. Hmm? To get to our back door you have to go through or over a locked fence into our back yard. This must be one industrious early-morning visitor.

Nobody was at the back door either.

Knock-knock-knock-knock

The knocking was twice as loud as it usually sounds when someone raps on our door to get our attention. What a mystery! Could it be that the rabbits were chewing a stick and it was knocking against an inside wall loudly? I chased down the little potential culprits, but discovered them peaceably napping under the piano.

Knock-knock-knock-knock

This time I crept up to the front door and peeked carefully out its window. There, on the front porch wall, was a large orange and brown flicker! Flickers are my favorite kind of woodpecker, because their bright orange striped and spotted feathers are so beautiful. This guy appeared to be about a foot long, or tall, or however one refers to the size of a bird. He was pecking away on our wall, which explained why the sound resonated throughout the house.

I moved. He saw me, and flew off.

Checking for holes where he pecked, I discovered the tattered remnants of a wasp nest. Good woodpecker! Wasps are wonderful things, except around our doorways. The wall behind the nest appears to be hole-free. Good woodpecker!

I'm pleased to know our house is so delicious.

Life ... has a life of its own

Just when I think I have a grasp on what my life is made of, Life happens. I'm officially putting in a request to The Committee For Overseeing The Life Details of Wandering Willow for a massive reduction in changes. If you please, Committee Overseers, a plateau of boredom would be much appreciated right about now. A week of peaceful boredom would be perfect, allowing me to get stabilized in the world as it is after the most recent tornado of change.

Unfortunately, another tornado looms just a little way up the road. I'd better put in an order for extra seat belts, as long as I'm attempting to control the uncontrollable. Learning from the jarring pain of sudden loss, I'm trying to prepare for the next one by beginning to feel it in advance.

I suspect that I'm only increasing my own discomfort. There are parables and wise phrases for times such as these, but I can't remember any at all. Maybe I'll just breathe one breath at a time and see how that works.

PJ Squirrel's Final Hour

While walking in a field by a stream today, I heard a rustling squeal near my feet. A squirrel lay camouflaged among the autumn leaves, grunting. He was bleeding from his face, chest and front legs. Gary and Gypsy gathered to see. Panicked, the squirrel scrabbled with his crimson wet front paws, trying to drag his limp body through a patch of blood-stained dirt. Safety must lie on the far side of us, somewhere, anywhere.

I started praying for the squirrel-loving forces of the Universe to come help this little guy die peacefully. I held the palms of my hands towards him, allowing all my love to pour through them into him. He stopped scrabbling in the leaves and rested, groaning. Gypsy finished sniffing him and sat quietly, wanting to be helpful. Gary and I stood still, beaming squirrel-love and comfort as best we could. His grunts, squeals and heaving breath revealed that he would not survive long.

We stood with him. Nobody wants to die alone in an open field.

A black cat flashed past the corners of our eyes. Evidently the cat had attacked the squirrel, and wanted to return for more play. That was no longer an option, though.

For some reason, the multicolor fur on this little being reminded me of a set of pajamas. I named him PJ Squirrel.

After a period of us all standing together in loving quiet, PJ Squirrel began to move. He dragged and heaved himself towards Gary. Puff, groan, growl, puff. When he reached Gary’s shoe, he leaned against it and went limp. He burrowed his pointy little nose into the earth by Gary’s shoe. It seemed that he really did want someone to be with him as he died. Our hearts glowed, feeling his trust.

Eventually we needed to sit down. Gary began the process of shifting his weight earthward. The movement startled PJ from his doze. He frantically dragged himself towards my safe shoes. With his tail draped over one shoe, he rested his painful bones again. When I sat, startled little PJ scrabbled back to Gary’s shoes. He hauled his body between both shoes and lay softly growling.

Gypsy, Gary, PJ and I sat together quietly for half an hour. Periodically a pain would spasm through PJ’s body. His tail would fluff up suddenly and he would growl, groan and pant. I longed to pet him, but didn’t want to risk a bite.

The sun began setting, and a chill fell on our vigil. Gary put on his thick gloves, and carefully picked up our expiring friend. Holding a squealing PJ away from his body, Gary walked over to the biggest tree by the stream. He tenderly set PJ on the massive root where it met the trunk. Gypsy sniffed the squirrel’s back. Within minutes, PJ gathered his strength and darted into a hole at the base of the tree. Leaves immediately fell and covered the hole behind him.

He was home.

Gary and I backed away. Gypsy stayed to sniff and make sure PJ was settled in safely. I sent out a silent call to his squirrel family to take over. A halo of reverence surrounded us as we walked away from the tree that warmly harbored a little bleeding squirrel. We felt honored to have gained the trust of someone who was normally afraid of us. Together we built a bridge between nature and us. It was a holy day.

Alive & Blogging!

Well, fans, I've been distracted from blogging for a long time, by a combination of factors, including the crashing of my computer, travel, stressful events, and project overwhelm.
Oy, life can be challenging! Good thing I'm the type to make lemonade from lemons.

I'm in the process of repairing my Salon blog and updating this one. Soon this will be my one and only personal blog... so stay tuned! I promise there will be fewer bunny-related stories after this. These photos show our Colorado yard at the peak of summer beauty this year. High altitude desert and all, Gary is great at creating pulchritude on our land!

Don't give up... before long I'll write something worth reading again!

with love to all,
Wandering Willow

More on the subject of Rabbits

I find our two rabbits, Ziggy and Sandy, to be subjects of infinite interest. They are so much fun to live with! And so cute... just look at that little ear-head sticking out of my hands in that one picture below!

In these photos, Sandy is about 3 months old, and brand new in our household. He's about 6 months old now, and already is bigger than Ziggy.

The Bunny Boys

Our new bunnies

Here are some photos of our new bunny boys. Ziggy is a Mini Rex, with velvety white fur that has interesting ink-blot patterns of grayish brown. (That pattern is called Broken Opal.)

After much consulting with rabbit experts, we've determined that Sandy is a cross between a Palomino and a Dwarf Dutch.

Ziggy is about a year old, and Sandy is about 4 months, in these photos. I love how they both put their front feet into the food dish when they eat!