One Year Later

JWise Thoughts

John Wise in Phoenix Arizona 2021

One year ago today, Caroline and I started our own quarantine while America was just getting ready to ridicule San Francisco, California, for locking down its 7 million inhabitants a few days later. While we were quietly prepping two months earlier, I was still hoping that I was being hysterical in a Y2K kind of way, and so I wasn’t sharing my actions in order to minimize the public humiliation for giving in to paranoia. With an abundant supply of toilet paper, hand sanitizer, a hoard of dried goods, and a freezer stuffed with meat, we were ready for the apocalypse. Well, except for the guns, we were not armed and ready for shootouts as the masses went rampaging, looking for morsels of food after the shit hit the fan.

Now, a year later, we still haven’t exhausted the 50 or so rolls of TP we hamstered away. I’m not sure what to make of that, meaning, do we not use enough toilet paper, or did we simply buy too much? Our pantry inventory continues to decline, but we certainly have much more to rid ourselves of before we see the last products that were purchased in the first two months of 2020. Strangely enough, we’ve grown accustomed to only eating at home, and while there are times I wish I didn’t have to do the dishes, I’m mostly resigned to that new routine.

Not counting the sharing of my book, Stay In The Magic – A Voyage Into The Beauty Of The Grand Canyon, I’ve posted about 165 blog entries in the past year, a record compared to the previous years. Playing with my synthesizer has sadly languished for months now, and while I look forward to finding it again, I can’t say I regret having fallen off that boat as I’ve been busy with other things.

Concerts, museums, travel, and restaurants were the casualties of this pandemic, and if restaurants remain in that camp, it won’t really bother us, but live music, art, and travel can’t return quickly enough.

Some things have been normalized, such as shopping. Initially, I would only go to the store right when they opened or near the time they were closing. For a minute, Google would show me a near-real-time display of how busy places like Costco were and so I’d find myself over there between 1:30 and 3:00, which was often a lot slower than when they opened. Now I shop whenever I need something. For the majority of the pandemic, I would dip into my favorite coffee shop for a few minutes to pick up coffee beans, but in a second, I was gone and sanitizing my nostrils. Over the past week, I’ve been in that shop every day for a few hours each time to get in some writing, such as this post.

There is some travel coming up quickly as in the first weekend of April, which also happens to be my birthday weekend. We’d go sooner, but Caroline is involved with an online weaving workshop that started yesterday and ends the last weekend of March. As for where we’ll go? I’m leaning toward somewhere between Greer, Arizona, and east to Magdalena, New Mexico, but haven’t decided if we’ll aim for 2 or 3 days out in the middle of nowhere.

I’d like to share that I’ve been witness to dramatic societal changes that the pandemic was key to bringing on, but in some ways, nothing changed even though, in reality, everything changed. So what is it John, everything changed or nothing changed? Many people work from home; most children attend school online; air travel has tanked; telemedicine has advanced; digital currency conversations are moving forward, universal basic income discussions are moving mainstream, and humanity moved at lightning speed in the development of multiple vaccines to fight COVID-19, the move to electric vehicles is being catapulted by most every manufacturer announcing their plans to compete with Tesla. Those are some of the changes.

Education, racism, environmental concerns, gun violence, war, greed, and health care are all areas of our culture that are floundering the same as they were before the pandemic. Maybe those things that have changed will be catalysts that act as the propellents that will move these nearly intractable issues but only time will tell. Meanwhile, I’ll just assume that the lethargy that allows us to eke out tiny amounts of nearly invisible incremental advances will continue on their glacial march forward, but I’m not gonna hold my breath for the striking changes I’d like to witness. I’d venture to guess that something truly catastrophic must happen to humanity, something that is thousands of times worse than a pandemic and would hammer at the global economy for us to reevaluate our relationship with our planet and one another. COVID-19 was not that event.

But COVID is not done playing its hand. Sadly, today, I was reading about cases on the rise again in Germany, Italy, France, and Brazil, which, in my mind, portends our own return to increasing cases here in the epicenter of death. Ironically, I’m finishing this in a coffee shop at the counter with my mask on as I wonder if I’ll once again have to abandon this little slice of what had previously been known as normal.

Wet Things

JWise Moments

Rain in Phoenix, Arizona

Yesterday, it rained across Phoenix, and in a desert where that’s a relatively rare occurrence, we celebrate the little we get. While others find the rain to be an inconvenience, the population of our city often steps outside to experience the rain firsthand. Sadly, we have become a bit cynical, though, as when the weather forecast predicts rain, even with a 90% chance, we will be skeptical that it will actually do so. Last year was not only one of the hottest, with the most consecutive 110-degree days and the most 115-degree days overall, but also one of the driest years on record. Over the past six months, this lack of water has been most obvious in the number of dead trees throughout our neighborhood.

Rain in Phoenix, Arizona

Cinderblocks and asphalt, with very few undeveloped lands around the Phoenix area, have created a heat island that is changing our weather. The effect of houses and streets on the environment is the most obvious when we walk around the block and find that the air near some wide-open state preserve land is noticeably cooler than in the developed area next to it. Instead of trying to conserve water and limit growth, Arizona is attracting a lot of people to move here and not curtailing the use of water for pools and golf courses. I just read that the corporation commission will be raising our water rates by 6% this year, which seems to be the typical increase for the past few years as if paying more, the biggest users will curtail their use. How greater profits equate to filling rivers, reservoirs, and aquifers is beyond my puny brain.

Rain in Phoenix, Arizona

So, on these rare days when it rains, we have to pause and appreciate that this stuff can still fall from the sky like magic. Not only does it glisten in the sun that peeks through the clouds, but it also ignites an explosion of wet earth smells from petrichor to creosote and various woods that seduce those of us outside our homes to celebrate the occasion. I should admit that there is one downside to the rain: Those of us who wear glasses will likely never get used to the droplets that turn into rivulets sliding down our field of vision. Yeah, I know, wear contact lenses, and the problem is solved, but that is not congruent with my brand of laziness.

Glorious Things

JWise Photo of the Day, Thoughts

Clouds in the sun Phoenix, Arizona

The universe is the first thing that comes to mind when I consider the glorious nature of what I can perceive. The sun and earth are next in the hierarchy, followed by the environment around me. To get out and bask under this glow is easily forgotten when we are consumed by entertainment beamed into our homes and various electronic devices. We’ve never met a sunrise that failed to impress us, nor have we been less than dazzled looking up on a clear night to see with our own eyes the vast Milky Way we’ll never fully comprehend. I’ve never assumed that the configuration of the clouds on any given day is a repeat of any other day in my life or the history of the planet, but what do I think about the stellar clouds of the massive band of stars that stretch deep into history?

Sun ahead of the Clouds in Phoenix, Arizona

Just like the palm fronds that rustle in the wind and then settle back into nearly the same place, I should consider the almost invisible shift of all the matter, dark matter, and various gasses out beyond our solar system. We are, after all, moving at 515,000 mph here in our corner of the Milky Way, and from one night to the next, we have traveled 12,360,000 miles, and while our eyes are not sensitive enough to recognize the difference, in some way, maybe we are presented with new configurations that are nearly as significant as how the clouds change from day to day here on our puny but glorious planet.

The moral of this story: Never go outside thinking it’s just another day. You are alive in a vibrant universe of constant change, and for the briefest of moments, you are here to witness the contrast of things you barely comprehend.

Beautiful Things

JWise Photo of the Day

Donkey in Phoenix, Arizona

Early morning on a quiet walk through our neighborhood is the best time to appreciate all the beautiful things along the way. While the sky is still transitioning from dark to light, the birds are just starting to welcome the day with songs and chirps that bring trees, cactus, roofs, and powerlines into focus. Some trees sound like hundreds of birds have been roosting overnight hidden amongst the foliage. Just this morning we spotted a cardinal, grackles, doves, pigeons, hummingbirds,  woodpeckers, some small, obviously non-native parrots, geese, and assorted other birds.

Speaking of the geese, their honking has only returned this week as they are heading to wherever it is the geese are going here at the beginning of spring. We often catch the call of hawks before we see them but haven’t seen any for a couple of weeks now. The mockingbirds have made themselves visible once more which is strange as they are not migratory, but over the past 5 or 6 months we couldn’t find hide nor feather of them and then today or maybe it was yesterday we saw (or rather, heard) that they are back. For that matter, we haven’t seen hummingbirds for a long time either, and then all of a sudden we’ll spot them darting about.

Then there was that coyote about a week ago that lept right over a 6-foot cinderblock wall and like an apparition from another dimension was gone in a flash. On the other hand, there’s this semi-obstinate donkey named Lucy that some days will bray at us as though it’s excited to see us, while on others it will throw a glance from the far corner and stand there sulking as by now it’s well aware that we don’t bring treats. When Lucy does trot over she gladly accepts head and ear scratches. One of the donkey’s neighbors is a horse that’s trying to be social but doesn’t seem to want to be petted and would prefer that we would accept some nibbling of our hands.

Depending on our walking route we can see upwards of a dozen cats, none who are responsive to our attempts to coax them into a nuzzle. Penny and Bella are a couple of dogs who by and large no longer bark at us and will even wag their tails as we walk by, but if I should walk directly towards them they let me know that the wagging tails are a trap that triggers wild, angry barking.

Now combine all of this life with the still cool morning air, half a dozen hot air balloons drifting across the sky with some pink and orange clouds catching the rising sun, while those aforementioned orange blossoms from an earlier blog post punctuate our first encounter with the new day and you too will hopefully understand our appreciation of all these beautiful things.

Sheila – Mother To My Daughter

JWise Thoughts

Sheila Darlene Clark on 29 Sep 1985 at Wiesbaden Airbase in Germany

Six years ago today, I received a phone call from a Texas number. I normally wouldn’t answer an unidentified number from anyone, but my ex-wife was living in Texas, so maybe she was calling from a different number? I couldn’t have been more wrong. Yes, it was regarding Sheila, but not in a good way. I was given the news meant for my daughter, who was in Bahrain, but nobody could get hold of her, and they figured I might be able to get in touch. I was drawn into the most difficult call I ever had to make. My daughter’s mom had died in a car accident only a few hours before. As much as the call crushed Jessica, it gripped my gut deeply to have to convey the grim message. At only 50 years old with a ton of unrealized dreams, my ex-wife and mother to my daughter was no more.

Sheila Darlene Clark became Sheila Wise back in 1986, and by 1989, our marriage was over. It took a few years of quiet between the two of us before she reached out to me to remind me of the importance of Jessica needing me in her life. With that nod that Sheila and I could talk and do so easily, Jessica and I started to write one another, and when I moved back to the United States, we made arrangements for her to come out to Phoenix, Arizona, to see each other face to face for the first time in over five years.

Sheila had remarried well before my return and, sadly, was with a very controlling and jealous spouse. While this complicated the two of us talking about the welfare of our daughter, Sheila would arrange to reach out while she was at work, and Jessica’s step-siblings knew to identify the caller as a fellow student instead of her father. Through Jessica’s occasional medical and dental emergencies, a difficult husband, and a daughter starting to rebel, Sheila was always upbeat, remaining positive that things could only get better. In our phone calls, we maintained the same goofy banter we’d always had from the day we started dating through the first few years of Jessica’s life. One thing was obvious through all of this: Sheila enjoyed being a mom, and nothing could diminish her enthusiasm to dream of what was yet to come.

The day she died, I felt horrible for the things she’d never know, and worse, my daughter had to respond from thousands of miles away to the devastating reality that her mom had passed far too young. Sheila is never far from my thoughts as our travels to Paris, Amsterdam, Athens, Madrid, Innsbruck, Cologne, and various points in between, along with bringing a child into the world, forever cemented our connection to each other’s lives. It truly is sad that this important part of my past is now gone in all but memory.

Aromatic Things

JWise Photo of the Day

Orange Blossoms in Phoenix, Arizona

Years pass and we often fail to note just when it is that the smell of orange blossoms punctuates the air. The aromatic beauty far exceeds the appearance of the flowers that are often difficult to see when passing through a neighborhood, or maybe the scent is so intoxicating that with senses swirling, we simply can’t find the focus to identify where the smell is wafting in from. This is that week where, at least this year, the orange blossoms are making themselves known.

From walking in fields of lavender to strolling through rose gardens, nothing in the realm of fragrances has quite the same impact on us as this incredible sweet scent. Maybe if we lived among the sperm whales and could collect their discarded ambergris, we’d consider that to be the most amazing of bouquets within the environment we were living in, but being relegated to two-legged land-based creatures, I believe Caroline and I are mostly in agreement that orange blossoms rule the world of smells from our perspective. Okay, she did try to say the petrichor and creosote aroma that arises with Arizona’s summer rains might be equal in pleasure to orange blossoms, but I’m sticking with these citrus blooms as being one of the greatest olfactory stimulations that grace my senses every spring.

Missing from this blog entry is just what this smell is like, but I’ve never really figured out a viable language for conveying the various scents that would allow someone else to understand the aroma I was describing. Of course, if the fragrance I was attempting to encapsulate linguistically only required me to compare something to something else, such as we do with wine where we describe woodsy cinnamon notes with chocolatey overtones and a hint of citrus, maybe that would make this easier but orange blossoms are in a universe of perfection that is beyond simple comparisons.