Reflections Galore

Whenever we passed one of Glacier's lakes by car, my husband knew I would want to stop if the reflection was just right. I love seeing the mountains and shorelines in the water. Walking near Many Glacier Hotel, Mount Gould and Mount Henry were frequent reflections captured on my camera.

My reflections stretched to the people I met, wondering how the folks seated next to us at a restaurant could have the same interests and mutual connections, how one woman by the fireplace could share my thoughts about the environment and ecology, how a couple on the Iceberg Lake trail could be from the suburb next to ours, how the Lithuanian young people we came to know at an East Glacier store chose to come here for the summer.

All coincidences? Perhaps. But the last one echoed in my reflections. Something about Lithuania intrigued me. Then I came home and got the books on my reserve list from the library. One was Between Shades of Gray by Ruta Sepetys, and it is told by a fifteen-year-old Lithuania girl who is deported from her country on June 14, 1941 by the Soviets. The horrors she witnesses along with her mother and younger brother are atrocious. All the while, she draws and records information in hopes of notifying her father (in a prison camp) of their whereabouts. Interspersed with Lina's experiences and observations are memories of events that relate to her 1941 thoughts, all of which help her understand how her family came to be in this circumstance with thousands of others.

Despite the horrible actions of the Soviet soldiers and the awful conditions, Lina and her companions fought for their dignity as humans and strove to give nothing to their captors, not even their fear. She is a credible, conscientious narrator, and I loved her for her honesty and determination.

Take time to read this book. I finished it this morning. I immediately turned on the computer to learn more about the Soviet occupation of Lithuania and its renewed independence in the early 1990s. How could I have missed all of this important information as a young person? It is another reminder to pay careful attention to world events and the people affected by them.

Fire Bench

Last week as the rain fell on the lake and mountains on a 45 degree day, I sat on this bench next to the gigantic fireplace of Lake McDonald and read. The stone walls around the hearth are filled with pictographs. I like to think the suns above the bench are representative of the 50-mile long Going-to-the-Sun Road that crosses the park from Apgar to St. Mary.

I am not much good at just sitting. My travel journal and favorite pen were in my knitting bag (which contained several projects). I chatted with cold folks from around the country. Most of the time, though, I read, and the book of choice was Richard Mosher's Zazoo, recommended by two friends who their paperback copy of the book with me.

Zazoo begins like this:

"The boy on the bike came and went. And he was like the gray cat in one way: when he was gone, I remembered everything about him, yet I couldn't be sure, absolutely sure, he had been there at all." He asks questions about the mustached pharmacist, Monsieur Klein, especially wanting to know if he is married. Thirteen-year-old Zazoo is enchanted with the boy and explains to him how she came to live with Grand-Pierre on the canal in France from her native Vietnam.

This boy, whom she learns is named Marius, does return, but not as soon as Zazoo hoped. For a while, the two exchange postcard communication, the first being a reprint of a Chagall painting with a Paris postmark. It arrives not at the Mill of a Thousand Years/Mill of Milan but at Monsieur Klein's pharmacy. It is he who finds beautiful postcards for her to send to Marius.

Mysteries surround Zazoo's life with gentle Grand-Pierre. At 78 years, he is growing old, sullen, quiet, and forgetful. Zazoo lovingly calls him Old Boulder (one of his many nicknames, not all of which are pleasant). She assumes the role of caregiver, seeks to find stories, asks for answers, mends his spirit, and bridges gaps. The questions Marius asks lead Zazoo to more questions. Stories are revealed by Monsieur Klein and Grand-Pierre that tie the characters' lives together and bring about healing. Throughout the narrative are poems composed often by Grand-Pierre, sometimes by him with Zazoo's help, and eventually just by her.

Take time to read this poignant book. Read it on a bench if possible. Not until I reached its end did I understand why I had chosen to read it on the fire bench.

Identification

Despite the snow-covered mountains and trails we hiked in Glacier National Park, there were plenty of blooming wildflowers. I can identify many traditional flowers: columbine, forget-me-not, paintbrush, lupine, low larkspur, bunch berry. Along the trail to Iceberg Lake (which was still covered in ice), I saw this lovely five-petaled purplish flower (only a few others were nearby). With the sunlight streaming through its petals, the yellow stamen glimmered. I captured the image on two photographs.

We came down from the mountain and lake several hours later and headed to the ranger station. My sons had found the remains of an animal and brought samples of the fur to the rangers for identification (a moose). I brought photographs. One ranger thought it was a sticky geranium and showed me a photograph of that. No. The color was too light, and the stamen was not yellow. Another ranger suggested the red monkey flower. Did it grow by water? she asked. Yes! That was it.

The rangers are like librarians, helping visitors discern differences, asking questions to get at details, and guiding them to sources (like Wildflowers of Glacier National Park by Shannon Fitzpatrick Kimball and Peter Lesica, which I used often). They promote discovery while fulfilling a desire to find the answer.

Magical Wand Maker

I am not one to be snagged by most tourist traps. We passed Wall Drug. We would pass the World's Largest Ball of Twine. I thought about passing the World's Largest Wooden Spoon Store in East Glacier, Montana (also known as The Spiral Spoon - http://www.thespiralspoon.com/), but something drew we inside the tiny shop. Thank goodness.

We were met by an incredible artist named Jo whose beautifully-crafted spoons hung all around us. Though she obviously works hours to shape the many-hued spoons, she was quick to tell stories, and we were happy to listen. She told of how she does not know just how many hours one spoon takes her to create because she stops to talk or trades one spoon project for something else. She told of her days as an English teacher (no wonder she is a good storyteller). She told of some of the more interesting woods she likes to use. She told us the supposed history of the surrounding buildings.

I departed with a black walnut spoon and the adoption papers for it (which are entertaining to read!), and my son purchased a wand crafted from purple heart. The latter led to a wand ceremony during which she gave him the information about when it was completed, told him about the wood's properties, and relayed things he might like to know about what magic the wand could impart.

Go there if you ever visit the area. I went twice, just to hear more stories.

Three Billy Goats

As we departed from the Sperry Chalet Dining Room on July 21st, my husband hushed us just above the wooden bridge across Sprague Creek. On the other side a mountain goat inched down the cliff and approached the bridge. Just behind him were a baby and another mountain goat (presumably the mama goat). They trip-trapped across the bridge, fully aware of our presence. That protective papa goat waited for his mate to cross. Their baby goat followed, and he took up the lead into the snow field to our left.

As I trekked down the Sperry Trail to Lake McDonald Lodge, thoughts of Lise Lunge-Larsen's version of "The Three Billy Goats Gruff" in The Troll With No Heart in His Body echoed in my mind. Margie Palatini's funnier, non-traditional version in The Three Silly Billies (humorously illustrated by Barry Moser) joined in as we neared the warmer temperatures and motor traffic on Going-to-the-Sun Road.

Checking under the bridge for the troll was not on my mind, due to the rushing creek water, but I imagine he might have been part of the scene too.

Junior Rangers

We arrived home today with new titles: Junior Rangers of Glacier National Park. Ranger Christiane conducted our swearing-in ceremony at the Apgar Visitor Center and talked with us about the things we foresee for the park in the future.

Though the three of us were older the twelve-year-old age recommendation, we happily completed the activities in the Junior Ranger Activity Guide, went to several ranger programs, and read signs throughout the park to learn beyond the activities. For my sons, it was their 20th Junior Ranger badge. I joined them a few years ago and proudly keep my badges in my drawer of special things.

This is one of the many great things our National Park Service does to promote awareness of the natural world and history among young people. But there really is no age limit. I encourage everyone to go through the programs at the parks!

I look forward to sharing my badge and information about the park with students in the fall during library time. I hope some of them have badges they can bring to share also.

Summer Vacation

I love being the first patron to check out a new book from the library. Next to me as I write is Jeanne Birdsall's third novel about sisters I have come to adore: Rosalind, Skye, Jane, and Batty, the Penderwick girls. In The Penderwicks at Point Mouette, Skye is now the OAP (Oldest Available Penderwick) while Rosalind is in New Jersey with a friend. Aunt Claire takes the younger three plus Hound to a tiny cabin called Birches along the Maine coast. All sorts of humorous, minor catastrophes occur, as well as something extraordinary for their friend Jeffrey, none of which I will expand upon so as to keep the surprises for other readers. The story is delightful, and I am glad I could enjoy their summer vacation during my summer break.

Books (for passing the hours of driving and for reading aloud to the family at night), yarn (for knitting more rabbits and lambs for those Haitian children), my journal (for taking lengthy notes and observations), and my camera (for capturing the images I want to revisit) are also next to me as we prepare for a family adventure in Glacier National Park. My computer will not be making the trip, but I look forward to sharing stories toward the end of the month.