Soon after a severe thunderstorm blew through last evening, I noticed some pinkish clouds in the east. That usually is a sign of a beautiful sunset. I hustled out to the street and was treated to this beautiful scene.
Crepuscular rays radiated through the clouds as the sun sank behind the Allegheny Mountains to our west. I knew I wouldn’t have time to drive to higher ground, so I settled for this image from our front yard.
© Bruce Stambaugh 2023
We live in a noisy world. It’s hard to find pure silence to simply listen, ignore the busyness of your mind, and relax without interruption.
When I saw an invitation to participate in a Contemplative Sit at the end of the daily devotion I received via email from Richard Rohr, I clicked on it. I instinctively knew I needed the 12-minute exercise to calm my mind, body, and soul. I didn’t realize how hard it would be.
The Reverand Dr. Barbara Holmes led the video presentation. The screen was a lifeless gray, with the title “Contemplative Sit” half grayed out. Once the single chime of a small bell rang to begin the exercise, I closed my eyes, thinking I could better concentrate on breathing in and out. It wasn’t to be.
I thought about last night’s sunset, the high gray clouds reflecting the sun’s warm glow. Our mother star had long since sunk below the Allegheny Mountains. I waited then for the warm beauty of the sky and now for a fulfilling silence.
I heard a crash from the video I knew wasn’t part of the meditation. I opened my eyes and saw the countdown to skipping another YouTube ad. I immediately clicked it away. Then I noticed the words, “We focus on the breath going in and out of the body.” I realized I needed to keep my eyes open to be fully engaged.
At that moment, however, I became acutely aware of all the noise around me. My neighbors across the street were mowing their yard in their usual father-and-son tandem. The sound of the two mowers competed with the tinnitus in my ears. I had buzzing external and internal competition to distract me.
Ironically, only then did I hear the video’s faint ebbing and flowing of wind rustling over a prairie, a desert, through tree limbs. I couldn’t tell, and it didn’t matter. I concentrated on my breathing. I unconsciously rubbed my hands on my thigh bones down to the knees and back to the hem of my kaiki shorts.
A single-engine plane flew a few hundred feet over the house, probably from the local private airport eight miles away. Its sturdy engine soon carried it out of earshot.
Was I failing this intentional time of contemplation? I let go of that judgment and refocused on my breathing. I spied a mother robin bobbing in the grass beneath the red maple tree in our front yard. She had speared an insect, likely to help feed her second brood of the summer.
My cell phone dinged. Another person in the group text commented on my friend Mike’s release from the hospital. I breathed a breath-prayer of thanks and gratitude.
A morning breeze rustled the leaves and bounced the smaller limbs of the maple outside my window. Still, I heard the wind’s faint rhythm coming and going from the video. Two Goldendoodles from the neighbors down the street barked, a regular occurrence. I continued breathing, letting go, and focusing on silence without self-criticism.
A pair of Northern Cardinals flew into the maple tree, and the video bell sounded the meditation’s end. I felt free, rooted, and ready to face the rest of the day.
I hadn’t planned on doing this meditation. But I have always enjoyed spontaneous activities that arouse my senses of the world around me. This morning’s experience was an unexpected but necessary infusion into another day of joyful living.
(I have included the link to the meditation if you are interested.)
© Bruce Stambaugh 2023
How hot is it in Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley? It’s so hot even the rabbits seek some relief in any shade they can find.
I hope you can stay cool wherever you are.
© Bruce Stambaugh 2023
A Day in Shenandoah National Park.
Several recent studies have proved the obvious. Regularly spending time in and with nature dramatically enhances people’s mental health and appreciation for life.
That wasn’t news to me. Fortunately, I grew up in a family that spent time hunting, fishing, and vacationing in the great outdoors. I continued that pattern with my own family, minus the hunting. I prefer to shoot animals and everything else with cameras. It saves on taxidermy costs.
We moved to Virginia’s lovely Shenandoah Valley six years ago to be close to our grandchildren. Besides spoiling them, I also make regular trips to the nearby mountains. I multitask. On my hikes, I bird and photograph what I encounter.
Every outing, I discover new birds, wildflowers, and paths to explore. I often go alone, but I also enjoy sharing the fun with others. A group trip into the wild affords opportunities to explore nature together.
A recent outing to Shenandoah National Park with another senior friend and our teenage mentees from church allowed us to reengage with all the benefits of nature. I don’t know why the boys picked us, but we immediately hit it off. We all enjoy hiking and exploring, so the park was a natural destination for a day trip.
Once in the park, we veered off the famous Skyline Drive to Lewis Mountain Campground. I wanted to show the boys the only location in the park where Blacks were permitted during segregation. Even then, a few Whites complained that they should have access to the entire park.
At Big Meadows, we toured the exhibit of the park’s contentious founding at the Byrd Visitors Center. Not surprisingly, the youngsters showed more interest in the gift shop.
Then we got serious. We walked the southern parameter of the meadow. Its variety of habitats piqued their interest, from stands of trees to prairie grasses to artistic cairns. On the southernmost trail, the view of the Shenandoah Valley was spectacular.
As we walked the cowpath-like trails, we encountered several bird species by sight and song and saw several butterflies that visited the wildflowers growing everywhere. Bright red wild columbines, vibrant woodland sunflowers, and common milkweed showed their colors and aired their fragrances.
Where the meadow met the forest, we spooked twin fawns. They only ran a short distance since they were foraging on shrub leaves. They seemed as intrigued with us as we were with them.
After a picnic lunch, we chose a short but magnificent trail. The Shenandoah Valley glimmered in the afternoon sunshine as we reached the summit and a massive rock outcropping. We basked in the comfortable, crisp 73 degrees of the Blue Ridge Mountains while the valley baked in the humid 80s.
It was good to commune with nature again, especially while sharing it with friends across generations. We breathed in cool, fresh air, were lulled by birdsong, enchanted by colorful flora and fauna, humbled by history, and energized by the needed exercise.
I was also glad we could personally verify the legitimacy of those extensive studies.
Summer days are full of light. From the early hours of predawn until the last glimmer of sunset, the warm days of summer brighten our world. That’s true even when thunderstorms darken the sky. They seldom last long and often offer a rainbow as they pass. Gray cloudy skies that bring all-day rains are few and far between here in Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley.
I enjoy the morning birdsong wake-up calls and their evening serenades. But it’s the glorious sunrises and sunsets that spellbind me. Their ever-changing color scheme spawns a breath prayer of gratitude.
As the lower dark clouds sailed north, the evening’s mist began to rise out of the valley at the foot of Shenandoah Mountain. Each curl of cornstalk captured a glint of the day’s last light. I was filled with wonder, awe, joy, and peace. Those are the everlasting gifts of sunsets.
© Bruce Stambaugh 2023
Big Meadows, an open, rolling, bowl-shaped landscape, features diverse plant, tree, and wildlife species. I consider it one of the most beautiful locations in Virginia’s Shenandoah National Park.
As evidence of its wonders, these photos from a recent visit exemplify its natural splendors.
Please click on each photo to enlarge them.
© Bruce Stambaugh 2023
It’s celebration time for both Canada and the United States of America.
July 1 celebrates the anniversary of the Canadian Confederation, which occurred on this date in 1867. Next Tuesday, July 4, the U.S. celebrates the Declaration of Independence, adopted and signed in 1776.
In both countries, picnics, fireworks, parades, barbeques, carnivals, and concerts punctuate each national holiday. So, Happy Canada Day and Happy Fourth of July.
© Bruce Stambaugh 2023
I couldn’t believe my eyes. I had heard a Mourning Warbler singing before, but I had never seen one. I always attributed that to their habitat and skulking behavior. It could have been my poor eyesight, however.
Mourning Warblers tend to stay closer to the ground than the one I spied 15 feet high in a dead wild cherry tree. They favor low brushy habitats, not bare tree limbs. Yet, here it was, and I was pretty happy to be able to capture a few photos before this beautiful bird with a lovely song dropped into the underbrush and out of sight.
Most Mourning Warblers nest in boreal forests in states and Canadian provinces well north of Virginia. However, there is a small area in the Allegheny Mountains along the boundaries of Virginia and West Virginia, where they also breed.
When I learned that other birders had spotted Mourning Warblers near Reddish Knob, a mountain summit on the Virginia/West Virginia border, I decided to go for the bird. The drive to that area is less than an hour from my home in the Shenandoah Valley.
Other birders had the same idea. The bird was easily heard, and with six pairs of eyes, the target bird was soon spotted. However, I didn’t expect it to be so out in the open. But I had to act fast. Mourning Warblers seldom sit still. As you can see, this bird was already looking down and dropped out of sight right after I snapped this photo.
I was grateful for the help of the other birders, who were equally happy that I was able to get the photographs I desired. The Mourning Warbler was only one of several bird species I saw that day, but it was the best.
© Bruce Stambaugh 2023
After celebrating our grandson’s first birthday, my wife and I headed west along the Lake Ontario shoreline. We stopped a couple of times to bird at state parks and were pleased with the few warblers, flycatchers, and a Northern Harrier we saw.
Then it was on to Niagara Falls, Ontario. We had been to the Canadian and American sides of the falls before. However, I had never seen the light show that lit up the falls after dark. I especially wanted to view the falls illuminated with rainbow-colored lights.
After a nice dinner, we walked down to the falls after dark. We didn’t have to wait long. The first lights, though, were light-colored and then pastel. The evening air was getting chilly, aided by the wind-blown mist from the falling waters.
Please click on the photos to enlarge them.
At exactly 9:30 p.m., we got a pleasant surprise. A colorful fireworks show lit the night sky on the Canadian side directly across from the American Falls. As soon as they finished, the lights changed to vivid colors that kept changing from gaudy green to brilliant blue to the ripest red.
At 9:45, my wish came true. Both the Horseshoe Falls and the American Falls flashed all the rainbow colors. I was happy as a 10-year-old. Satisfied with my photos, my wife and I walked hand in hand back to the motel, ready for a good night’s sleep.
© Bruce Stambaugh 2023
I appreciate the simplistically specific way of naming roads in Rockingham County, Virginia. The roadways are numbered, of course, but the colloquial names are what people know. Slab Road is a prime example.
Hardly a half mile long, Slab Road connects two main county roads. Between the two is the Dry River, often devoid of water. A solid cement slab serves as the roadbed that crosses the riverbed from bank to bank. Thus, the unusual but appropriate name for a public road.
After some recent rains, the river flowed steadily over the slab, forming a mini-waterfall. I wanted to gather some rocks for a water feature I was assembling for our backyard birds. The high water limited my search to the south side of the slab. While collecting a few stones, I couldn’t help but notice the beauty of the evening sun filtering through the trees and reflecting off the smooth surface of the now not-so-dry river.
The need for a few flat rocks drew me to this inspiring scene that warmed my soul during this day’s golden hour.
© Bruce Stambaugh 2023
Wildlife Photos From The Chesapeake Bay Region
Culture and Communities at the Heart Of India
Artist and nature journalist in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia.
Photographer Of Life and moments
Personal Blog
Art is the only way to run away without leaving home. -Twyla Tharp
Writing generated from the rural life
writer. teacher. podcast cohost.
El amor cruza fronteras / Love crosses borders
Roadkill Crossing 
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