Seasons, Shaw, And Shakespeare

It's snowing! Has been the whole day. Usually, I can see the blue sky, and a lone tv tower from the only window in my office room. Today it's more white than blue, the flurries look like tufts of silky cotton, and each time they hit the window pane they disappear, much like the cotton candy melting into the mouth!

Well, this is reminding me of the good old school days, the big hockey field surrounded by tall silk cotton trees, and every summer, the field would turn white with the soft tufts of cotton hair. I used to gaze out of the window, amazed at the way the tufts danced into the fields as the soft breeze swept them off the trees, waiting impatiently for the recess bell, waiting to run out, waiting to pick those nature's treats. Life couldn't have been simpler, and more fun. All my little innocent mind could think of was, "Only! If only the recess could last a day long"

I love snow. I love it anytime. In the morning when it dazzles with white purity, in the afternoon when it looks golden in the blazing bright sun, and at night when it glitters like numerous tiny crystals! Snow enchants me!

In Arlington, it used to snow once a year. If lucky perhaps twice. I remember one particular day,  almost four years back, at about 5:00 am in the morning, the phone rang! I tried to ignore it and tucked my ears under two layers of pillows but the phone kept ringing. Finally, I decided to get up from the bed, cursed graham bell for his invention, and walked to the phone. But by the time I reached the torture machine, the call had ended and a light blinked indicating a message had been left. I clicked the message tab and walked towards the window. I wanted to see the sunrise. Not many times had I taken the opportunity to admire the beauty of the rising sun. As I pulled the curtain, I heard the rustling sound of the wind. I looked out it was snowing. The white showers looked beautiful, and the sound came from the telephone. I realized it was the message. A prank at 5 am wasn't quite amusing. Perhaps a wrong call or perhaps, some well-wisher wanted to say, "Don't sleep out a beautiful day". well, I'll never know but yes if not for the call, I would have missed this beauty. At that moment the mind of mine thought, "Only! If only I can see this dawn every day"

Rain! I like it sometimes, I hate it sometimes. I like it when I am cozily sitting at home tucked inside a warm comforter, sipping hot chocolate, while watching Rock Hudson wooing Gina Lollobrigida. I hate it when I am in an unknown place, scared cold, and lost. The day when I first arrived in Fargo, it was raining heavily at 4:00 am in the morning. There was not a soul that I knew. A little scared, kind of cold, and very lost. oh! how I hated the rain that day! The station master had helped me carry my two huge bags into the tiny Fargo station cabin. It was just me, him, and his twin brother. I thought so because both were huge rolly polly kind-looking grandpa-ish men. while I sat there wondering what or where should I go, a man hurried into the cabin. He was a cab driver. He said, "I got a call for a passenger". the two men immediately looked at me. Well, can't blame them for the assumption - I was the only other living creature in that room. I shook my head, to express, 'No' it wasn't me but sure enough I did need a cab. Not finding the caller, the cab driver agreed to give me a ride. he took me to NDSU, dropped me there, and hurriedly disappeared just as he had come. He left without even taking the cab fare. Perhaps he was in a hurry! Heaven knows! It was strange, and I was tired. At that time all my tired mind could question, "Was Fargo the right decision?!"

I guess, Fargo was yet another impulsive decision like many others I made in the past. Kind of an escape from facing realities that I didn't want to accept. Happens! Sometimes life takes a course we reject but in time when things fall into place, we realize if things didn't happen the way they happened, it might have been a greater disaster! The biggest realization is that we can escape places, escape people, escape things, escape talks but it's hard to escape from ourselves. it's a seemingly tough job to escape our own mind. The only escape is to remove the darn memory bank called the cerebrum. Shakespeare was so right in The twelfth night, "In nature, there's no blemish but the mind".

Yes! as the days pass, as the seasons change

As the fleeting time adds another year to my age

I think about the carefree summer at the cotton field

The simple life a child could wield

 

The snow, I saw and sighed upon

There were dreams, no time for dawns

 

That rainy night, those weakened nerves

The road sometimes has its curves

 

Yes! As the seasons change, and the days pass on

There are shares of curves, shaky nerves, there are beautiful dawns in moments gone

There are rains there are snows

There are highs and there are lows!

As Shaw said
"Life isn't about finding urself - Life is about creating yourself"

"Life is about the changing seasons, the simple desires, the difficult choices and the unanswerable questions!"

The Missouri River

The Missouri River is the longest River in North America with a length of 3767 km. It joins the Mississippi in St Louis to form the fourth-longest water system in the world. The name Missouri was coined by French explorers to simplify the original Algonquian (A family of Native American language) term 8emessourit which means 'people with canoes'.  The Native Americans called the river Pekitanoui which means 'Muddy Waters'

Missouri flows through 7 states before merging with Mississippi in St. Louis

Missouri is formed by the confluence of the Jefferson River and the Madison River at the Headwaters State Park near Three Forks. It is joined by the Gallatin River near Ling Rock Ferry Crossing

Jefferson River originates from the Confluence of many rivers. The first spring starts in the Centennial Mountains and forms a creek called Hell Roaring Creek near Bower's spring

From St. Louis Missouri becomes a part of Mississippi and finally joins the Gulf of Mexico

California Highway 1

California Highway 1, is perhaps one of the most scenic highways in the world. This 656-mile-long road stretches across the Pacific Coastline from Leggett to Dana Point in California.

Historic Columbia River Highway And Multnomah Falls

I traveled to Portland during the Thanksgiving weekend. The flight from Fargo took me about 6 hours. Multnomah Falls is about 32 minutes from Portland. It's the tallest in Oregon and the drop is about 620 ft (upper fall is 542 ft,  lower fall is 69 ft and there is a gradual slope between the two of about 9 ft). The fall gets its name from the Multnomah tribe who lived around this area. The fall is fed by the springs of Larch Mountain, an extinct volcano. Legend has it, that a Multnomah woman sacrificed herself by jumping off the cliff of the mountain to save the tribal village from the plague. After the village was saved, it is said that water started to trickle down the cliff eventually forming the waterfall.

The Portland to Multnomah takes route 1-84, a part of which is the first planned scenic route in the US. It is called the Historic Columbia River Highway. The historic route spans between Troutdale and The Dalles

Google Earth aerial views of the waterfall

Upper and Lower Falls

Lower Falls

Multnomah Creek in the Columbia River Gorge

The Mississippi River

The second longest and second largest River in North America is The Mississippi. It is 3766 km long. Mississippi -Missouri water system is also the 4th longest water system in the world. This river flows across 10 states and there are at least 42 cities along its banks.

The origin of the name comes from the Native American name of the river Ojibwa-Misi-Sipi, The Great Waters. The river is said to have been formed some 70 million years old as per studies done on zircons found in the river. The river is supposed to have been formed from the Laurentide Ice Sheets (Large sheets of ice that covered parts of North America during the Ice Age). As it melted it formed lakes and surface springs. Today the river is fed by The Itasca Lake and the springs that form the lake.

Headwaters of the Mississippi are fed by this lake system

The Story of The Mississippi

We went on a camping trip to Itasca a few years back during the July 4th long weekend. Itasca Park is a state Park in Minnesota that is built around Lake Itasca. Lake Itasca is the source of North America's second-longest river, The Mississippi. Legend has it, that the lake was originally called Omashkoozo-zaaga’igan - The elk lake in the Native American language. Schoolkraft rechristened the lake as Itasca which meant 'True Head'! Other legends say, that the lake was formed by the tears of Hiawatha's daughter Iteska, hence the name Itasca.

Marker at the headwater

Headwaters

We, camping in the park

Fishing, boating, rafting, and multiple activities are allowed on the park premises. We rented a motor boat for a lake tour

110-foot tall Fire / Observation tower in the park. We climbed up to the top. The view is worth it. Shall look up the pics and update them here

A common whitetail male dragonfly / Long-tailed Skimmer. Though common all across North America, they are one of the oldest insects on this planet

The Mississippi Delta or Yazoo-Mississippi Delta Pillottown is the last town where the original pilots were built. After the devastation left by Hurricane Katrina, the pilots were rebuilt in Venice, a town up north