Linda Ricketts with Michael McDougal at the Montgomery County Literacy Volunteers Annual Spelling Bee Fund Raiser (May 18, 2004) — Image by kenne
There’s a song written by John Prine titled, “Angel from Montgomery.” The people of Montgomery County had that angle and her name is Linda Ricketts. Linda was an angel because she was one of those rare people who found her voice by adopting and embracing communities and filiations, which in turn Inspired her to inhale the memory of acts never experienced. These acts were the work of an angel who served countless people and organizations by giving without conditions the one gift worth more than any, her time. She was a volunteer’s volunteer!
If we believe that “becoming is superior to being,” then the process of becoming is that of “gathering up the fragments”, so that we as individuals, communities and organizations may become whole. Linda was able to see the fragments around her and gather them. Whatever was broken, missing, disconnected or lost, Linda worked to create new connections resulting in bright mosaics made from the gathered fragments.
The historic, colloquial, genesis of the title words in the song, “Angel from Montgomery” are not about our angel from Montgomery county, but have to do with her husband being pardoned from a death sentence by the governor of Alabama. You hope from Death Row that the governor will be your Angel and send a pardon your way from his home in Montgomery. So the old woman in the John Prine song is singing about becoming a pardon from the humdrum humility of her loveless life. I share it here for its beauty and humble, but profound chorus of gathered fragments.
Those of us who love Linda are blessed with her beautiful mosaics made from gather fragments — broken; colorful; unique; that will forever be “beneficial to all concerned.”
I count Linda among my most loved friends.
kenne
Angel from Montgomery
I am an old woman named after my mother My old man is another child that’s grown old If dreams were lightning thunder was desire This old house would have burnt down a long time ago
Make me an angel that flies from Montgom’ry Make me a poster of an old rodeo Just give me one thing that I can hold on to To believe in this living is just a hard way to go
When I was a young girl well, I had me a cowboy He weren’t much to look at, just free rambling man But that was a long time and no matter how I try The years just flow by like a broken down dam.
Make me an angel that flies from Montgom’ry Make me a poster of an old rodeo Just give me one thing that I can hold on to To believe in this living is just a hard way to go
There’s flies in the kitchen I can hear ’em there buzzing And I ain’t done nothing since I woke up today. How the hell can a person go to work in the morning And come home in the evening and have nothing to say.
Make me an angel that flies from Montgom’ry Make me a poster of an old rodeo Just give me one thing that I can hold on to To believe in this living is just a hard way to go
Last weekend, as I stood in front of those attending the celebration of life services for my brother Tom, I couldn’t help but notice the tears on the face of a dark-haired women among those attending. I had not yet met this beautiful women, so I had no idea who she was.
Knowing that some of Tom’s former students would be in attendance, I was not surprised when she came up to me after the service, with tears still in her eyes, and introduced herself — Ana Claudia, one of Tom’s former students. We embraced with the affection of dear friends seeing one another after years of being apart. For Ana, I was channeling Couch Turner, something that is second-nature for me since my brother and I are kindred spirits. We talked, drifting from the present to the past and back, her tears of joy still on her face.
As we talked and hugged, Ana shared something she had posted on Facebook after the death of Coach Turner:
I don’t often share my feelings on here,
but today I have a good reason to do so.
I’ve often thought about how blessed I am
for having had tough but kind coaches
and mentors throughout my life.
I am grateful beyond words
that good-hearted people took time
to help keep a poor immigrant kid from the hood
on a path towards a positive life
that included the desire to give back or pay it forward.
I know most of you didn’t know him but in honor of him,
I want to say that among all of those good people
none made more of a difference
in my life than this good man — Coach Turner.
He passed away yesterday and now,
here I sit openly weeping still, smiling,
and remembering him not only as a coach,
but also as a mentor, a defender, a family friend, and even a father.
I’ll never forget you Coach Turner. Thank you from my heart.
— Ana Claudia
I have no doubt that her words are shared by so many of his former students. He was a special man who liked using the power of his vocabulary to impress those around him, but for Tom his ability to share his feeling was more powerful the words. Like all of us, he had his demons, but above all, “Bobby”, my little brother, knew the value of caring and sharing.
In the form of a elegy, I share the last two stanzas from Federico Garcia Lorca’s, “A Dream of Life”:
No one knows you. No one. But I sing you — sing your profile and your grace, for later on. The signal ripeness of your mastery. The way you sought death out, savored its taste. The sadness just beneath your gay valor.
Not soon, if ever, will Andalusia see so towering a man, so venturesome. I sing his elegance with words that moan and remember a sad breeze in the olive groves.
(CLICK ON ANY OF THE IMAGES TO SEE LARGER VIEW IN A SLIDESHOW FORMAT.)
Hiking the Douglas Spring, Carillo, Garwood Loop In The Saguaro National Park (December 19, 2014) — Images by kenne
“Thousands of tired, nerve-shaken, over-civilized people are beginning to find out that going to the mountains is going home; that wildness is a necessity”
Alexa Von Bieberstein (December 17, 2014) — Images by kenne
Alexa Von Bieberstein has been a Sabino Canyon Volunteer Naturalist since 2007, and I have had the pleasure of working with her since 2011 in the SCVN elementary school program on Thursdays. Last Thursday, we said goodbye to Alexa since she will be returning to Germany, although she and her husband will be keeping their home here in Tucson. As a “going away” gift, the Thursday group of naturalists gave her a print of Phil Bentley’s photo of Sabino Canyon with snow on the mountains. Although Alexa loves the Sonoran Desert, she also loves snow.
Phil and Alexa with Thimble Peak backdrop
Alexa is also an enthusiastic hiker. A little over a year ago, we hike to Thimble Peak, high above Sabino Canyon. Here Phil is taking her picture with Thimble Peak in the background.
On the Arizona Trail
In addition to Alexa, Phil, and I, Ed Rawl and Tim Ralph, completed the group hiking to Thimble peak. (Click here to see my posting on the Thimble Peak hike.) We will all miss her cheerful smile and look forward to seeing her again soon. Knowing Alexa has helped keep my thimble full.
A Thimble Full Of Life
All one needs
in life is a thimble full of this and that to experience life.
We determine
what makes up
THIS, what makes up
THAT.
(CLICK ON ANY OF THE TILED IMAGES TO SEE LARGER VIEW IN A SLIDE SHOW FORMAT.)
Hiking the La Milagrosa Loop in the Santa Catalina Mountains (December 5, 2014) lead by Sabino Canyon Volunteer Naturalists (SCVN). The 6.6 mile loop combines trails through the La Milagrosa and Agua Caliente Canyons. Parts of theses canyons are also popular to more adventurous hikers and rock climbers than our Friday SCVN hikers. (Click here.)
Gathering before the hike at Suzenu Avenue
La Milagrosa Loop
La Milagrosa Loop
La Milagrosa Loop
La Milagrosa Loop
Resurrection Plants
La Milagrosa Loop
La Milagrosa Loop
La Milagrosa Loop
La Milagrosa Loop
Resurrection Plants
La Milagrosa Loop
Pictographic Writing
Pictographic Writing
Cholla Cactus
La Milagrosa Loop
La Milagrosa Loop
La Milagrosa Loop
La Milagrosa Loop Hikers
La Milagrosa Loop
La Milagrosa Loop
La Milagrosa Loop
Resurrection Plants alone the La Milagrosa Loop
La Milagrosa Loop
May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view. May your mountains rise into and above the clouds.
Houston Blues Legend, Little Joe Washington, — 2003 Image by kenne
From the Houston Blues Society’s Newsletter:
On Wednesday afternoon, bluesman Little Joe Washington passed on, leaving a hole in the blues community’s heart that belies his diminutive 5′ 5″ frame. One of Third Ward’s legendary blues guitarists, comprising Albert Collins, Johnny Clyde Copeland, Johnny “Guitar” Watson and Joe “Guitar” Hughes, Little Joe displayed a raw and sparkling talent that earned great respect from his peers.
It’s true to say that he knew more than a few dark days in his 75 years, but with surprising tenacity he’d always bounce back to delight audiences with his virtuoso guitar skills, often finishing his set by running around the room and using his hat for a tip jar before disappearing into the night on a rickety bicycle.
******
Roger Wood wrote of the Third Ward eccentric guitarist in his 2003 book on Houston blues, Down In Houston: Bayou City Blues:
“I first picked up a guitar when I was playing drums with Albert Collins. I taught myself after that,” Washington explains. “I figure it out on my own.” Once he began to experiment with the guitar, however, the diminutive and now perpetually scruffy-looking fellow developed a unique style that is best described as raw and unpredictable — some would say wild. “I play with my teeth, my tongue, my head. I used to hang on the rafters when I was in Old Mexico,” he said.
“. . . Little Joe Washington has evolved into a Houston folk hero of sorts.”
the pool area shining in the darkness, I feel the pulse of the night bouncing off the light a juxtaposition different for those in the water nor as chilly as the night air
I ponder the sadness of those losing money always to the house so I sit by the pool winning with money still in my pocket meditating in the moment
Twenty-one people participated in the last SCVN 2014 Lizard Walk (October 11, 2014).
Although the count was low, observing mostly side-blotched, desert spiny, and zebra-tailed lizard lizards,
it was an enjoyable walk on a beautiful fall desert morning.
— Images by kenne (Click on any of the tiled images to see larger view in a slideshow format.)
The wilderness area of the Santa Catalina Mountains provides many beautiful vistas, massive majestic rock formations and several challenging hiking trails.
For the start of the fall hiking season, the naturalists scheduled a hike starting at the highest point atop Mount Lemmon.
In a prologue to frost and early fall colors,
we arranged a shuttle car at Marshall Gulch
so not to double back the six and a half-mile hike.
Having led this hike two months ago, it combines four trails leading down into and out
of the Pusch Ridge Wilderness to Marshall Gulch.
Beginning on the Mount Lemmon trail, we follow a forest service road through upper mountain meadows to the Lemmon Rock trail.
The two rocky trails provide a steep 1,800-foot drop through tall pines on rocky slopes lined with thorny shrubs with an occasional cairn marking the many switchbacks.
However, cairns are of little help if I misread a marker and attempts to create my own trail down an even steeper rocky slope.
Taking a wrong turn at a trail marker,
which was about an hour into the hike, was the beginning of my bad day on Lemmon Rock.
It quickly became apparent my pace was too fast for the rocky slope, I was proceeding down, planting my right foot, so to begin a slide, only to twist my ankle.
The pain told me this was not a slight twist of the ankle — Oh, SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! Holding back additional profanity, I quickly started getting up, checking out the damage.
Anyone who hikes with me knows I usually have my four-pound camera/lens on the left shoulder, which I balance with the left hand.
Not this time, since I was wearing a center-body camera harness — for the first time, not focusing on saving my camera.
In pain, I did a four-point crawl up to the trail after answering some ankle movement questions from a fellow hiker, a retired foot doctor.
Continuing to walk on the rocky trail was difficult — generating expressions of concern from everyone, some checking their backpacks for an ankle wraps.
Someone had a velcro Ace bandage, without which I would not have been able to continue the remaining five miles to the gulch.
The ankle wrap was a blessing, but having now given the experience, more thought, although a steep climb, the shorted hike would have been back up to the top.
We live and learn, or do we? Would I hike five miles again on a sprained ankle? I hope I never have to face the question.
How here I sit with my wrapped
black and blue swollen ankle iced down — I guess I won’t be hiking again soon.
Sabino Canyon Volunteer Naturalist, Ralph Mersiowsky Recently Passed Away In Tucson
— March 27, 2014 by Images by kenne
The Man In The White Shirt
Everyone who walked with Ralph Mersiowsky can share many stories about the man in the white shirt.
During my naturalists training I observed naturalists teaching children, each with his/her naturalists vest covered with badges and many pockets full of rocks,
minerals, seeds and pictures.
Of the naturalists with whom I have walked, from which I learned and shared knowledge of nature, Ralph will always be the man in the white shirt.
For three years I have spent Thursday mornings with elementary school children and the man in the white shirt.
He has a star
above the canyon that will always shine on the hundreds of children who are closer to nature because of Ralph Mersiowsky, the man in the white shirt — a big-hearted, gentle man.
Last year our former neighbor, sculpture Malcolm Alexander passed away in Santa Fe. Malcolm was a neighbor for three years before returning to Santa Fe, near the Ventana Fine Art Gallery, where much of his art is on display.
In June, having stayed over night in Santa Fe in route from Colorado back to Tucson, we made an early morning stop by the gallery, where much of Malcolm’s work is displayed on the gallery grounds. The gallery was not let open, so we walked the grounds photographing some of his work.
Just as were about to leave, we were greeted my one of the gallery associates. We shared a brief conversation on Malcolm’s work. I mention that I had done a video of Malcolm on his work, which is on YouTube. The gallery has placed the video on their webpage on Malcolm’s art. I feel fortunate to have recorded this great American artist on his transition to more abstract art.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY to Fellow Monday Morning Miler, #90 — Image by Joy
After the hike on Mt. Lemmon this past Monday, some of us gathered for a picnic celebration for a very special person on th occasion of his 90th birthday. Don Fletcher is our hiking “poster child”, since we all would like to still be hiking on our 90th.
Hiking, staying active in general, is a good way to maintain dignity as mature humans, even though store clerks may have replaced “sir” with “sweetie” some time ago.
Linda Ricketts with Michael McDougal at the Montgomery County Literacy Volunteers Annual Spelling Bee Fund Raiser 
Ana Claudia 
Coach Turner
Turner with some of his track students
Alexa Von Bieberstein (December 17, 2014) — Images by kenne
Phil and Alexa with Thimble Peak backdrop
On the Arizona Trail
Computer Painting by kenne
Houston Blues Legend, Little Joe Washington, — 2003 Image by kenne
Nighttime at Casino Del Sol — Image by kenne
Sprained Ankle — Image by Jeff
Seven Falls In Bear Canyon, Santa Catalina Mountains (02/07/11) — Image by kenne
Sabino Canyon Volunteer Naturalist, Ralph Mersiowsky Recently Passed Away In Tucson
The Artwork of 
SCVN Lead Hike On WIlderness Rock Trail, Mt. Lemmon — Image by kenne
HAPPY BIRTHDAY to Fellow Monday Morning Miler, #90 — Image by Joy
![[ ... the whisper of fall ]](https://i0.wp.com/live.staticflickr.com/65535/55554365880_8da128c729_s.jpg?w=1000&ssl=1 "[ ... the whisper of fall ]")
