A Hunting We Will Go


It is five a.m.

Hunters in drive formation.

The hunters begin to rouse in my house. The alarm clocks buzz and the toilets flush. Like mice in my country cabinets there is shuffling, clunking and the ‘click’ of light switches on and off. When I smell the coffee I climb out of my warm bed and wander into the kitchen in my old housecoat where men in orange have gathered, their rifles on the dining room table and shells in their pockets to share that last cup of coffee before they head for the woods and fields. There is a familiarity in the wool pants and socks and their orange coats that takes me back forty-five years.

I used to be the first one up. I loved the preparations for the hunt and the anticipation of the day. Ron made breakfast for all of us. The kids and I packed our lunches and stuck candy bars and parafin dipped matches in our pockets for emergencies. Everyone reviewed the list of stuff you need; your extra shells, the rifle clip, gloves, hand warmers, a compass and extra truck keys. You checked the weather and temperature and by sticking your nose outside and then went back and changed again. Men, women and kids bundled up and excited, headed out to stand silently in the woods for hours, if need be, to get a quick shot and bag next winter’s dinner.

Perhaps it is the swaggering confidence of we who will provide meat for the winter that is attractive. I enjoyed how we planned our drives through the woods like generals on the battlefield. Maybe it is the sense of camaraderie as we review past hunting exploits; the trophies, our mistakes and near misses. Maybe it is the time we take to renew old friendships and think about days gone by.  I miss all of this. I am so sad. This year I will participate but not carry a rifle, again. For me the cold is agony and the difficult forest hiking equals a week of pain. Tendonitis in my shoulder  limits my ability to lift and aim my weapon. Later on, depending on the temperature, I will dress warmly and attempt to help drive the herd in the woods. I will sit here and reflect with a smile and a second cup of coffee on the good times we had and the fragrant memories of the past.

Büyük Menderes and Why I Call My Blog Andi’s Meanderings


Büyük Menderes means Meander(Μαίανδρος) which is the longest river in western Turkey, well known -already in Antiquity- for its fluvial deposits.

So, what is a fluvial deposit and why would I name my blog after a long river on the other side of the world?

Good question.  A fluvial deposit is

Meander was a Greek river god described in Hesiod’s “Theogony”. When I was a kid I read alot about gods and goddesses from Greek, Roman and Norse mythology.  They were just stories about long dead beings in my mind.  I never considered them as real or a part of any spiritual world. My name is Andrea and my father would call me “andereea”. I signed my letters Me, Andi and that became over time Meandrea.  It made my parents smile. Besides, I meander quite a bit. So there you are: I tend to wander physically and spiritually and I leave mental deposits wherever I go. hmmmm.

Is Your Umbrella Insideout?


 

Do You Feel Winter In Your Soul?
Can you hear the wind blowing through the cracks around the door and see the clouds outside the window scudding across the sky? Winter is coming, that’s for sure. Sometimes I kind of dread winter, how about you? The days are so short and dark and it’s hard to be warm. Snow is certain to fall soon and spring seems far away.

There are times in our lives when it feels like winter has overcome us. There is a pervasive cold somewhere deep down inside your soul. Perhaps you have been struggling with winter in your life.  Maybe someone taken away from you too young or just too early. Perhaps it is your health that troubles you, perhaps it causes you to worry and grieve. Maybe it is a lost job or home. Joyce Meyer recently wrote: “Worry is like a rocking chair. It is always in motion, but not going anywhere.”

That is so true. Often we really need to find a way to refocus our vision on something a little further away but it seems just too hard to do that. Be determined; hunker down and put your shoulder against that problem. Try to think about it in a whole new way and give it a good nudge to see if you can move it. Ask the Lord to give you a hand. Scripture says “I can do everything through him who gives me strength.” Philippians 4:13. Trust in the Lord and give it everything you have, there is nothing in this life that He cannot handle. Don’t hold back. Have faith, pray, place your life in His hands and watch for the answer patiently. He’s listening!

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Tangled Trees


July storm damage near Danbury

Sometimes our lives begin to look like the woods after a storm…the trees are bent over and broken like toothpicks. It is hard to move around in this tangled mess. I remember hunting in the Big Slash near Seeley, WI.  I couldn’t get through the brush unless I straddled the saplings and pushed forward with all my might. Sometimes I had to tiptoe along a downed log clutching my rifle tight.  In those days I was so skinny that I felt like my rifle weighed as much as I did! In fact, if I stumbled I didn’t even fall, the thick brush held me upright. I had to check my compass every few steps to finish the drive at the right place.

Now when I go back those saplings are tall trees waving gently in the wind. The brush is gone and deer paths wind through the shady grassy hillsides. Have faith, after the storms of life, there will be shady paths to walk again.  The breeze will cool you and the sun will warm your face. Chin up; struggle through the messy times knowing that better times are coming.

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