Archive
STRETCH GOALS
WELCOME!
This blog will accompany the Kickstarter journey of
Postcard Board Games!
During the times of Covid-19, and all the lockdowns that come with it, I find myself reminiscing of simpler times of the past. Memories of a childhood pre-internet, before social media, before (what seems like) the frenetic nature of modern workaday life. I sometimes have a vague nostalgia of things that are now so uncommon, one would be hard-pressed to find people that make use of them: ribbon typewriters, lever fill fountain pens, rotary telephones, the Atari 2600 (4-swtitch woodgrain), drive-in movies, TV dinners in aluminum trays, Sony Walkmans, View Masters, electronic Simon, jukeboxes that play 45's, cigarette machines... the list goes on and on.
I'm sure we all have unique memories of things that we miss and haven't done in a long time, but they still exist somewhere out there in the world. For me, one of these things is the idea of sending and receiving postcards. Now, perhaps more than ever, many of us long to reach out to those we care about, to travel to foreign lands, to experience new and exciting things that will change us in some way.
That's why I decided to take on this project. It's funny how sometimes a deceptively simple act or gesture can have a sincerely profound effect on someone. Sometimes you have been the one who has given joy to someone without realizing it, or perhaps something like receiving a simple note has given you warm feelings beyond what you expected. In a world where there is so much negativity, kind and thoughtful moments can have ripples that reach others in special ways.
...anyways, onto the games!
There are four games, and they were all inspired by different themes.
TREZAAM!
TREZAAM is an odyssey about finding treasure and getting it to a museum (TREasure + muSEUM = TREZAAM)!
Some things I love are camping, metal detecting, and visiting museums.
There is something exciting about being in the woods, knowing there are things buried underneath you that may hold clues to past societies. Hand-crafted items laying dormant and hidden for so long, just waiting for an adventurer to find them and unlock the mysteries of their existence.
The journey to a museum is equally entertaining for me. There's inevitably transportation involved to get there - a taxi, bus, plane ride, perhaps a boat or ferry. There's the excitement of being in a new place, while at the same time seeing something very ancient, up close and personal in real life. When looking at an old painting or artifact, I always imagine what life would have been like for the creator in their day.
The layout of this game is similar to many board games I played as a child: a simple journey with both pitfalls and rewards, with a prized goal at the end.
ALIENA BELLUM
Here we have a 2-player space combat game!
I remember visiting New York City as a boy in the 80's. We went into a souvenir shop, and along with mementos of the city itself, my brother and I got two handheld Tiger electronic games. One was baseball, and one was football. By today's standards, the graphics were as archaic as the come. But the uncomplicated nature was what I enjoyed. It was so damn simple, and that's what I liked - the idea that you were just in battle against another team, fighting for the win!
Watching films like The Last Starfighter made me feel like I too could be a part of something otherworldly. The main character, Alex, was just a dude in a trailer park. His thing was playing an arcade game at the little snack shop. And somehow, his passion for the game led him to being selected by aliens to help fight a space war! The idea of being plucked out of seemingly nowhere, to travel to fantastical lands, and the idea that something out of this world (an alien battle-skills testing device) could be hiding in plain sight (a lonely arcade game), were fascinating to me.
These and other influences led me to craft ALIENA BELLUM. The title roughly means "ALIEN BATTLE" in Latin. Hopefully it will bring you entertainment if you ever get a chance to play it.
SNÖTÅG (SNOWTRAIN)
HETTIE'S REVENGE
I always liked the idea of vintage games that people would have played
many years ago. Simple yet challenging games that are easy to set up,
and accessible to anyone. I envisioned a game that perhaps originated in
ancient times (in the vein of TABLUT, which is essentially a game passed down from the Vikings),
then eventually made its way into the homes of the Old West. Maybe in
antiquity it would have had a Germanic name regarding monsters or war,
but by the 18th century it would be known as HETTIE'S REVENGE. This is one of those games.
So there it is!
I hope you enjoyed reading a bit about the impetus for these games.
MUSEUMS
In the game TREZAAM, the goal is to make it to a museum to deliver some ancient items. As I reminisce about museums, the one that comes to mind first is my favorite one: The Kon-Tiki Museum in Olso, Norway. Kon-Tiki is my favorite book, and it was awesome to see the museum in person.
I visited the Kon-Tiki museum on a cold day. Some snow was on the ground here and there, and the air was quiet. Next to the museum, by the water's edge, is a monument to some explorers who reached the North Pole a long time ago. These statues are a testament to the difficulties that early explorers faced in their great quests.
The raft that made the original Kon-Tiki journey was on full display inside the museum. For a moment, I was the only patron inside, and it was peaceful to walk around at my leisure. The grandness of Thor Heyerdahl's endeavor was contrasted by the stillness of that day, and that's what I thought about as I perused all the artifacts recovered from the expedition.
In the gift shop, I purchased a postcard of the Kon-Tiki raft to send to my family. I filled it out, then dropped it in a mailbox outside the museum.
Museums have a special place in my heart. There's something unique about mankind's habit of revering things long gone, by creating and maintaining reflective spaces for the sole purpose of keeping their memory alive. I cannot put into words the feelings I feel when walking the halls of such spaces.
Far north in Narvik Norway, above the Arctic Circle, I visited a museum dedicated to WWII.
Here I touched relics of the battles waged in the fjords against the
German invasion. It was interesting to see these violent weapons of war
now resting softly, as peaceful people congregate amongst them.
I always wonder what life was like for the Greatest Generation, and how it might have felt during that time. I imagine it was a tremendous sense of relief when it was all over. And perhaps going through such a horrible time left the soldiers more appreciative of small things once they returned to their families at home.
The following photo is the final resting place of a sunken battleship on the edge of a fjord outside Narvik:
The third and final museum I'd like to talk about is a tiny hidden gem. Nestled in the vast forest of northern Sweden lies a facility known as Esrange Space Center.
As the dark of night was fast approaching, I took a drive up a narrow snow-packed road that winds its way through the wilderness near the coal mining town of Kiruna. The only creatures I saw along the way were two moose and two reindeer, who were equally surprised to see me as I was to see them.
At the end of the very long road was a small visitor's center for this unique place - an operational rocket launch and satellite control station!
Inside, guests are treated to complimentary coffee and snacks, and allowed to tour the tiny museum area for free. On display are actual satellites and other items previously launched to space. It was quite the rare excursion indeed.
This launch center is surrounded by vast uninhabited land - suitable
for its activities of course. I pondered what it might be like someday
if humans were to have a base or outpost on, say, an icy moon of Saturn
or Jupiter. Would it feel like this place? Huge frozen landscapes, with
just a few highly skilled people operating an advanced undertaking to
further man's search for answers. Perhaps.
Eventually, I made it back home. I am so glad that with all of
humanity's ills and defects, we have managed to retain some bright spots
like museums. It makes me optimistic about our chances as a species.
I hope your museum adventures bring you insight and wonder.
What is your favorite museum? What museum would you like to visit?
Until next time, take care.
TRAINS
Today, I'd like to talk about the theme of SNÖTÅG (SNOWTRAIN), which is
trains! Have you ever been on a train? Maybe you've ridden on a subway,
or perhaps an Amtrak. Maybe it was a few minutes, or maybe days. Was
your purpose business or leisure?
In the downtown L.A. area, there is a train hub known as Union Station. This is one of my favorite stations. Completed in 1939, its architecture is both Mission Revival and Art Deco - now referred to as Mission Moderne. It connects several regional lines that stretch far and wide. The grand lobby has been featured in countless films and TV shows.
(note: it's a short hop to Angel's Flight, another unique landmark. Angel's Flight is the shortest train ride in the world! It takes you up a small incline in the Bunker Hill neighborhood of Downtown)
Next up is a frigid adventure ride worth the taking. It's called the SJ Sleeper Train, brought to you by Sweden.
If you're flying into Olso airport, there is a lower level platform with direct rail service to the heart of the city.
Oslo Station is a very nice place, with tons of food options. There is a large statue of a tiger in the expansive courtyard.
It's a short walk to many stores, shops, and hotels.
Once you're at the centrally located
Oslo Station, you can hop a ride on an SJ Train and take it all the way
up to the Arctic Circle! I could go on for days about how much fun a
trip like this is. But I'll spare you the extensive reading for now, and
instead show you a few snapshots from the ride:
Finally, there is a tiny scenic rail line in Pennsylvania that winds through the woods on a short excursion. The train station sits in the midst of a small town, right off the main street. On this little main street is a brewery, bookshop, pizza place, game store, diner, candy store, hobby shop, cafe, pet shop, and much more - all of them independently owned small businesses!
Here are some shots I took of the train station. They were taken
with a Nikon FG fitted with a 50mm Helios 81N lens, using Svema 32
(long expired 35mm film). If you are into film photography, train
stations are great places to find inspiration. If you're not into film
photography, give it a shot! It's a fun hobby.
It always amazes me that railroads were built so far and wide. The manpower necessary to assemble this kind of transportation, especially a hundred or more years ago, is astounding. The feats of such workers reminds me of ants, how they are individually so small compared to their giant undertaking, but with constant hard work and ingenuity, together they create some truly awesome structures for everyone to enjoy.
What is your favorite train ride? What train ride would you like to take?
As we head into the weekend, and round the bend into the Christmas
season, my hope is that all of your train rides bring you joy. Don't
forget to stop once in awhile just to be in the moment, wherever you
are.
BOOKS
Sometimes, the inspiration for making or playing games goes hand in hand with something else. Today, I'd like to talk about one of those things - BOOKS!
I believe that books contribute a lot to the world of games. Reading
words on a page conjures visions in our heads that allow us to ride on
waves of imagination, and the practice of this lends a vividness and
heightened sensory realism to our gaming experience.
My favorite book, since I was young, is Kon-Tiki. It's a true adventure story about a team of explorers who dare to sail across the Pacific by raft.
I've
had several copies of this book, and I like the library bound version
with the debossed imprint on the cover. This is the symbol that adorned
the sail on the raft.
I stumbled on this book by accident. I passed by a bookcase one day, and randomly picked it up. "The Greatest Sea Adventure of our Time!" shouted the cover on the small paperback. I meant to just skim through the first paragraph and then put it down, but I was completely hooked from the first page. I sat next to the bookshelf and kept on reading, not being able to stop. The story was fascinating to me, and every detail caught my attention. It's one of those books where you can picture the sights, smells, sounds, and feelings without even trying.
I regret to say that I hadn't even heard of this story until that day. I'm glad that a chance passing by of the bookshelf, and my grabbing the book for no particular reason other than to read something random, led me to this great tale.
I enjoyed this book so much that I longed to travel to some of the locations described so vividly. After years of working hard to save some money, I was able to see a few of them. The first place was where the adventure started, and where the Kon-Tiki Museum now stands: Oslo, Norway.
I flew into Oslo during a snowstorm, and the place looked amazing. I
don't know how to describe why I like it so much. It's clean and modern,
the people are hard working and helpful, and the infrastructure is
impeccable. There's so many things that are great about this place.
There are also parts of the book that take place in the South Pacific. I had to try to find a way to make it down there. The very warm tropical breeze hit me hard while exiting the plane in Tahiti, contrasting greatly to exiting the plane in frigid Oslo.
I made my way around some of the islands by cargo boat, which is great
for travelers on a budget. They are slow going, but it forces your mind
to relax and get into the rhythm of the islands. This place is awesome.
The second book I like is a very old one: The Tao Te Ching. It is an Ancient Eastern book of wisdom. It has been translated many times over the years, and the translations differ quite a bit. But the essence of the book is still there in most editions. One line I like goes something like, "What is a good man, but a bad man's teacher? What is a bad man, but a good man's charge?" It reminds me that sometimes instead of just judging people that make you feel negative, you can try to share your positive nature with people you meet.
I know that often times when a book is very old, and has had many translations, original truths or insights are sometimes lost. Even if for some reason one does not understand (or even misunderstands) things like the Tao Te Ching, the important thing is that you are a better person for whatever you got from it. It's like the old saying, "A finger pointing to the moon is not the moon," meaning the book (finger) is not the answer (moon), but rather what you get from the book to use in the future is what's important. I also enjoy the artwork that accompanies books like this.
Finally, we come to a Japanese poetry tradition known as haiku. Many people have probably heard of it. I like it a lot.
I enjoy the minimalism of this form of writing. The creators try to squeeze as much visceral experience into these tiny wordings as possible, and their craft is impressive. One of the old masters is known as Matsuo Bashō, and he is a good place to start if you'd like to read some of the good stuff.
I would love to be able to write Haiku in the traditional sense, but
it is actually kind of intricate. For example, there needs a "cutting
word" ("kireji" in Japanese). That is a difficult concept for me to
grasp because I'm not Japanese, and kireji is one of those ideas that's
not very easy to explain in terms of an English equivalent. Still, these
poems are beautiful. I always try to imagine what my senses would
experience, and what my emotions would feel, if I was a witness to the
situation depicted in each haiku.
Well, that's it for today!
Do you have a favorite book? What kind of stories do you like to read?
Until next time, take care!
LANGUAGES
THINGS ABANDONED
A major concept of the postcard board game HETTIE'S REVENGE is gaining things and then losing them. Today, I'd like to talk about the remnants of things left behind.
Have you ever stumbled upon something abandoned? Was it a large structure, or a small artifact? Could you infer its origins by looking it over, or was its provenance a mystery?
There's a long abandoned coal mining town high in the mountains of the eastern United States. But if you drove down its rough dirt main street through the thick forest, you would never know a single soul had lived here. That's because when the townspeople packed up for good, they took every last photograph, every last wooden board, every last railroad spike. Nature has long since reclaimed this ground, covering every last trace of the people who once thrived here. Everything, that is, except a few tombstones.
The old cemetery
still lies deep in the woods, overgrown with nature. It is only
accessible on foot. I have walked this place many times, and it always
feels eerie. Some grave markers are barely legible after more than a
century of erosion. Just a few carved stones. All that's left of
generations of human civilization.
(the abandoned cemetery)
When faced with only certain pieces of the past, I often extrapolate to hypothesize a conclusion about the eventual fate of today's world. Should the grand experiment of humanity happen to fail, what will future explorers find left of it? Where will the pieces of us be in, let's say, a million years from now? What will mankind's headstones look like?
Past this cemetery, much further deep in the wilderness, is a waterfall. A worn path leads the way, but its trailhead is hidden. Isolated from the world, it roars like a freight train down a 70-foot drop. I had heard the legend of these falls, and one day I was finally able to discover the beautiful monster.
(the waterfall in the woods)
Did the villagers who roamed this mountain ever come to this waterfall
to enjoy its majesty? I am most certain of it. Most definitely certain.
What is it about phenomena like this that so stirs the heart? Why does
its grandeur and power makes us feel so alive? These are questions I do
not ask when standing under a waterfall. I'm too much in the present
moment to think conceptually, if at all. Most I can do is listen to the
roar, and soak in the intoxicating emotions that only come from
experiences like that.
My friend owns some property on a few acres of woods. Running through the back of his land, buried among the brush, is an old stone wall. It contains no mortar; these stones were simply stacked by hand. Today, it serves no purpose sitting in the woods. Why did people build this here? What was its original use or intention? To demarcate property? To contain livestock? To fight a war? Perhaps more importantly: Who built this? And when?
Finally, we come to the great American poet Robert Frost. In his Pulitzer Prize winning book NEW HAMPSHIRE, he illustrates a Census Taker coming upon a homestead to find it deserted. The enumerator wonders of the inhabitants, and laments the house's permanent neglect.
(THE CENSUS TAKER by Robert Frost)
I worked for two Censuses. We set forth roaming about large cities, small towns, and rural areas. There is something interesting about meticulously canvassing a sizable region, probing every last nook and cranny for signs of human habitation. Sometimes you see a new construction, and you must add it to your list. Sometimes your list contains a home where one is no longer standing upright, and you must delete it. I've seen more than my fair share of abandoned homes. I've seen the insides of buildings like this. I've seen all the remnants. Sometimes they seem like they were once nice places to live, but now they have fallen into such structural decay that it's dangerous to enter them. Some slump like drunkards, collapsing into their own disrepair.
Looking at these woeful dwellings, one can't help but wonder how they came to be deserted. I always have two contrasting thoughts when pondering the life of a dying house. The first is where I imagine a once happy family suddenly forced to free from a physical, emotional, or psychological calamity. This daydream is downright painful, and I wish this notion wasn't so strong in my head when I see houses like that. The second is much more fun to think about. I wonder, "In the entire history of the house, what was the SINGLE greatest moment?" Yes, maybe now it's falling down and forgotten, but it had to have good times in the past. What was the best day? Was it the day the first tenants moved in, full of hope for a bright future? Was it a busy Christmas morning filled with the laughter and excitement of a large extended family celebration? Or was it a quiet Sunday, as a young couple made a fire and relaxed over coffee?
(collapsing house in KY)
This kind of concept tends to be heavily maudlin, so I try to look at the bright side if I can. Tom Waits has a song called HOUSE WHERE NOBODY LIVES. If you haven't heard it, do yourself a favor. In it, he describes an abandoned house in the neighborhood. It is a very sad song. But there is an upside at the end. His lyrics tell it much better than I can, but essentially he ends up saying it's not the house that's important - it's love.
What do you think about when you find something abandoned? My hope is
that whatever goes away in your life, you always keep some love in your
heart.
That's all for now. Have a pleasant day, and take care.
STRETCH GOALS
The "Postcard Board Games" Kickstarter project has now sailed past two milestones, unlocking an extended monetary target that is common in the community. These are benefit-specific aims (set by the project creator) that reach further than the original funding goal, with the idea that all backers deserve more rewards for going above and beyond with their pledges. As this particular project closes in on its 3rd one, it's exactly the thing I want to talk about today: STRETCH GOALS!
Sometimes in life, we have an objective in mind, and that's all we
think about when pursuing it. Other times, we have stretch goals, or
additional side treks that add a little something extra to the
expedition. Do you consider stretch goals when orchestrating an idea in
your life? If yes, what do your stretch goals add to your experience?
Whenever I plan a trip, big or small, I always try to do some
research about some things that are off the beaten path a little bit.
Things that can be experienced in short order; things that add a little
unique spice to the adventure. I think "stretch goal" is a good term for
that. You're already going on a trip, but you want to add a little
extra reward in there. Here are a few stretch goals I've been able to
hit.
Street view of the Squeeze-In
During a road trip in Pennsylvania, I stopped by this hot dog place
because I had heard about it online. Is it hard to see in the above
photo? That's because it's tiny! It's called the Squeeze-In. Sandwiched
between two buildings, it boasts a total of five seats wedged behind a
small counter. The name is quite apt, for you literally do have to
squeeze in. They have several great kinds of hot dogs on the menu, as
well as local brands of chips, iced tea, and soda. And last but not
least, some cool t-shirt merch to take home as a souvenir. It wasn't too
far out of the way, and I'm glad I added this stop to the itinerary.
(Street view image of the Squeeze-In)
On another road trip, I was passing through the middle of the US, and I got a chance to stay at a really awesome Airbnb. An old family farm
sits in the middle of nowhere, and the caretakers have fashioned one of
the barns into a modern studio apartment. It's a working farm, so I got
to see a slice of farm life up close. It was a nice respite from a
large thunderstorm that was passing through, and the crackling of the
wood-fired heater lulled me to sleep.
Have you ever stayed at an Airbnb?
What was your experience like? I had a friend who once told me that he
booked an Airbnb on a cross-country road trip. He said the owner of the
Airbnb had creepy dolls everywhere in the apartment, and my friend left
in fear of these dolls in the middle of the night to sleep in his car. I
laughed hard at that story. I was lucky with my stay.
When I was in the Arctic Circle, I stopped by a street food vendor
near my hotel because I heard they serve moose cheesesteaks. What a
unique spot. Surrounded by freezing snow mounds, the Swedes in this food
truck were the most jolly bunch I had ever seen. I got to enjoy the
meal inside a "luvvu" (similar to a teepee), a traditional dwelling of
the Sámi
people. There was a fire going inside the luvvu, and I was given some
wonderful hot lingonberry juice which tasted incredible. It was a
perfect stretch goal for that trip.
(the food truck and lavvu)
Sometimes we don't see a potential stretch goal until we happen upon it, and we are compelled to seize an intriguing opportunity. One time I was driving from Norway into Sweden along a snow covered mountain road. Scouring the expanse, I was mesmerized by the wintry landscape that appeared to be out of a fairy tale. Rounding a bend, I spotted a little building perched on the side of the white mountain. There appeared to be a small parking lot next to it. What was it? Surely a gas station would be closer to the road. A store of some sort perhaps? I had to take a look. It was alone out there, swallowed up by powdery drifts in all directions.
I found my way up to this place, and it was the most quaint grocery store I had ever seen. Some shoppers were coming and going on snowmobiles, whizzing away to cottages and a ski slope in the distance. Nothing like I'd ever experienced. I let no impression escape my senses.
(a customer entering the grocery store)
Once inside, I marveled at the chocolate bars whose wrappers described
their contents in languages I did not know. Then I passed by a rack of
this stuff:
I was uninitiated. I had no idea what this was. Surely it had to be popular with the Norwegians and Swedes, because there were large racks and displays of it. I stopped in my tracks, then leaned in to take a closer gander. It looked like some kind of creamy edible spread. Each variant had a different photo of a food item on it. I thought to myself, "Looks like ham, shrimp, lobster...Hmm...Do those pictures mean that's what you're supposed to put it on, or is that part of the ingredients? And why do they come in what looks like paint tubes? What is going on?"
I asked a Swedish woman in the aisle what they were, and she
explained that they are a type of cheese spread that is very popular in Norway and Sweden. I
asked if they have to be refrigerated once opened. She told me that you
are supposed to, but she just keeps hers in her desk at work. I
asked
what you put it on. In a bit of broken English, she said
something akin to "hard bread." And then she disappeared. My stereotype
of Nordic people is that they are not too keen on extended small talk
or chit chat with strangers (which I find kind of inspiring in a way). I
stood there for a minute, marveling at all the colors and images on the
strange tubes of mystery. Next person that passed was a kid that looked
to be about 20 years old, with his friends close behind him. I inquired
about the photos on these
tubes. His cordial friends told me that's what flavors they are. I asked
him
which one is the best, while pointing to the bacon one hoping he would
say, "That one." And sure enough he did. He said it was "bangin." These
guys were very helpful and friendly. Then they disappeared.
I kept talking to myself. "Now to find some 'hard bread.' Let me think.
Hard bread. Did that lady mean, like, a stale baguette or something?" I
found what looked like Kaiser rolls and figured that would do. Once
outside, I put some of the bacon cheese spread on the Kaiser rolls, and
it was heaven.
NOTE: Not until I returned from this trip did I learn that the woman in
the supermarket was actually talking about "crispbread," a flat, dry,
rye cracker of Swedish and Finnish origin. So when I was back in the
States, I searched my local supermarket and found some flat, dry, rye
crackers with the word "crispbread" on the packaging. "Nice," I thought.
When I looked on the back to see where it was manufactured, it said
Sweden. Go figure.
(stupendous bacon cheese stretch goal for the win)
In a land and time far from Scandinavia, I was hiking with some family members through thick woodland on a warm summer day. We decided to look for a random trail and just take it wherever it leads. We chose one, and set off into the wild blue yonder. We discovered a few creepy caves in the brush along the way.
(one of the creepy caves near the old trail)
Finally we came to the end of the trail. There sat a huge pond,
with deer grazing at the far edge. What a sight to see. No crowds at
this destination. No cars, no noise, just pure untamed wilderness. We
walked around for a long while, and I remembered what it felt like to be
so still in nature.
(the pond)
I encourage you to seek out a few stretch goals on your journeys if you can. It may bring you insights and experiences you'll treasure for a long time.
Until next time, take care.
NEW BEGINNINGS
Here we are. A new year is now upon us, and her name is 2021. What will she show us? What will we bring to her? How will it all play out? No one knows. But one thing is for sure: unexpected things will most certainly come to pass.
As we round the bend into the final week of the POSTCARD BOARD GAMES Kickstarter project, I am grateful that this journey has come this far from its initial inception. Sometimes the start of a novel adventure comes seemingly out of nowhere, to lead us to a brighter future. So today, that's the topic of the blog: new beginnings.
For me, it's easy to find a new beginning when you start to explore places you've never been. Sometimes we get stuck in a rut and we don't quite realize how much it's affecting us. But the simple act of seeing something live and in person that you've never ever seen before can bring things into a different perspective.
One place I love exploring is a desolate beach. There's something haunting about standing on the edge of an ocean all alone, hearing the waves crash.
I think of all the voyages taken on that ocean, and I wonder who's on the other side. I enjoy the peacefulness of walking in the sand, as tiny creatures sometimes dart to and fro. I like to pick up seashells and turn them over, admiring their particular journey to this point in the sand. What was it like for them in their life? What did they go through?
Another place I like to explore is thick foliage in the summertime, when life is alive and in full bloom. I like to find things like crabapple trees, berry bushes, and other edible things in the wild. Someday I would like to learn about wild mushrooms, so that I can pick some and cook them in a meal.
There are so many things going on in a lush wooded forest during the summertime. So much to take in.
Finally, I love to explore natural water sources. Ponds, creeks, and the like. Sometimes you find hints that other people have been to that spot too.
Other times, there are no signs of human life anywhere. That's when you can truly appreciate being in the present moment. All you have to do is let the scene fill your senses. The colors and movements, the wind on your skin, the smell of the breeze, the sounds of the earth. Soak it in if you can. It's not often that most people can enjoy these types of spaces for long. There's always that job we have to to get back to, that family, those responsibilities, those daily concerns. So when you're there, enjoy it.
I hope 2021 brings you some awesome new beginnings.
Take care.
RETURNING
POSTCARD BOARD GAMES is back with ROUND 2!
PERSPECTIVES
Not as cool as the Hubble version, but it's what we would view. For awhile, this disappointed me. How neat would it be if space stuff was actually as beautiful as we "fake" it to be? "Alas, such is not the case," I concluded.
On the right side of the image, suspended in a thin beam of light, is our planet. From that distance, our whole world fits inisde a single pixel. Just a pale blue dot.
"Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.
The Earth is the only world known so far to harbor life. There is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to which our species could migrate. Visit, yes. Settle, not yet. Like it or not, for the moment the Earth is where we make our stand.
It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character-building experience. There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we've ever known."
— Carl Sagan, Pale Blue Dot, 1994
THE STILLNESS OF ROCKS
When I was young, I loved playing outside in nature. In hindsight, rocks seemed to feature often in my recreation. Whether it was skimming stones across a pond, climbing boulders in the woods, or marveling at the strange spherical shapes of pebbles tumbled in a river, I always had a fascination for these quiet, heavy objects resting in the forest.
There was a time when I viewed them mostly as stationary lumps of background matter. Ordinary. Sedentary. Bland. Sure, the forms that they took were interesting: cavernous caves, steep cliffs, handheld nodules whose outlines faintly resembled faces of monsters or other creatures. But in essence, outside of my imagination they were not alive.
After learning a tiny bit about geology as an adult, I see rocks differently now. They do have their own lives, it’s just that their timelines are much longer than ours. Even though they are not organic like you and me (and the rest of biological life on Earth), they have a birth and a story. They grow. They change. They interact with other rocks similar and different to them. They are pushed by circumstance through valleys of uncertainty. Some have already met their end, and some will remain intact for unfathomable years into the future. They were here before us, and they will be here after us. They don’t ask for anything, and they don’t need anything other than a patch of grass to sit on.
The more you study geology, the more fascinating history becomes. The next time you’re walking in a patch of wilderness, take a look around. Take a moment to really see the rocks. Some were created from magma deep underground. Some formed as the result of lava spewing out onto the surface long ago. Some formed as the result of mud, clay, sand, and other sediments hardening over many years. Some formed from other rocks as the result of enormous heat and pressure, changing their entire structure. Some are mostly homogeneous, and some are a mix of many different elements and minerals. They come in all sizes and colors. They appear in all nooks and crannies of the globe. Individually they are vastly different, and yet together they are one single world. They are the foundation on which we, as humans, rely. We cannot survive without them. They make up our home, this giant ball floating through the cosmos.
I tried my hand at amateur rockhounding, visiting old mine piles, beaches, outcrops, and other sites, sifting through piles of earthen rubble for any interesting specimens I could uncover. As time went by, I began to find an appreciation for what rocks can teach us: STILLNESS. It’s a recurring theme in numerous meditation and mindfulness practices. There’s a tranquil quality to geologic features. Their stance is calm. I’m starting to understand why Japanese Zen gardens incorporate them so much.
I recently visited a quite unique formation of rock, said to have originated roughly 300 million years ago. It’s not like anything I’ve seen before. Its huge slabs soar some 80 feet into the air. Winding along the crest of a wooded ridgeline, its neatly stacked blocks resemble a megalithic structure from a faraway fantasy. Even its terminus looks something like a carved whale's head. It’s not thought to be man-made, but it sure makes you feel a sense of wonder and awe standing close to it.
On the smaller side of this topic, I like to hunt for little
samples of jasper in a running stream or brook. If it cannot be scratched by a pocket
knife, that’s usually a sign that your specimen is higher on the Mohs hardness scale, and
can possibly indicate something in the quartz family (I must say
though, quartz is not
known as a rock – it’s a classified as a mineral). There are seemingly
endless varieties of rocks and minerals out there waiting to be found.
One of my favorites is petrified wood (essentially wood that has had its
material slowly replaced by a hard silicon dioxide).
I’m grateful that as I get older, I’m able to learn about the
world from so many wonderful teachers that I’ve met. Even a brief imparting of knowledge is interesting to me. Whether a professor in a classroom, or
a stranger walking down a dirt path, patient and caring teachers are some of humanity’s
greatest assets.
So if you ever feel overwhelmed, or maybe you’d just like to rest your mind for a moment, consider the rocks. They can offer us an inspiring example of the deep beauty and serenity that can come from stillness.
Take care.
COMMUNITY
Have a great day!
Comments
Post a Comment