Ten Years from Now

Where do you see yourself in 10 years?

It will be a privilege to be alive in ten years. Most of my life I fully expected to be healthy and hearty at 77 years of age, like many of my friends are now.

I hope to enjoy scenery like this for many years.

I expected to be in my home, enjoying my pets and nature, traveling at least a bit to see new sights or visit friends. That’s the same as now.

Simple pleasures are all I desire.

As an example, we drove today to a place near Medina, Texas, to see the cabin Lee’s friend Matt has been working on for many years. It was fun. I got to hear a new kind of vireo and a Golden-Cheeked Warbler, found only here this time of year. What a privilege to be free to do this.

Cabin view

I’m concerned, though, that in a decade I won’t have a source of income or health care, though I’ve paid into Social Security and Medicare my whole working life. If that’s the case, things may look very different in ten years. Who knows? Things could also be better, too.

They have an old horse here.

Let’s hope we all still get to enjoy our friends and family a decade from now. In the meantime, treasure what you have. That’s my plan.

I treasure old trees, too.

Book Report: Navigating Rocky Terrain

I got this book, with the complete title of Navigating Rocky Terrain: Caves, Karsts, and the Soul of Unseen Spaces, at the Texas Master Naturalist Annual Meeting last week. It’s a 2024 book by Laurie Roath Frazier, a fellow Master Naturalist in the chapter that hosted the meeting. She wrote the essay collection while dealing with a series of the holes her losses caused in her life by finding healing in the cracks and crevices of the Texas Hill Country, a landscape very familiar to me, where I also found comfort in hard times.

Since I’m also a huge fan of the unique features of the karst formations I lived in for 25 years, I figured I’d enjoy reading about Roath’s quests and observations. I didn’t expect to be so moved by her work with her inner rocky terrain. It reminded me so much of when my life was fractured by divorce, mental health challenges (mine and a child’s), and fear for the future.

She’s a good writer, though I wish there was more of an arc connecting the essays and that there was some resolution to pieces of her life—like, what happened with her birth family? But I enjoyed both the personal parts and the more scientific information about caves, limestone, bats, lakes, and crevices. And of course, it was nice to read about the Sacred Springs in San Marcos, where I’d just had such a moving experience.

If you’re a fan of nature, geology, or personal growth, you’ll enjoy this little book and support a Master Naturalist!

I hope to share it with friends!

Something else I’ll treasure from the meeting last week: I now can tell you that this is a female house fly. Yep. Males’ eyes look like one big eye.