Beauty in the Blahs

It's often difficult to find beauty and bliss on blah January days.

Instead of the overwhelming magnificence we're accustomed to experiencing three seasons of the year, in January, we often have to look a little harder.

And, by golly, that effort paid off yesterday afternoon when Bill and I once again walked through the Trout Creek wildlife management area north of Pack River Flats. 

We needed this outing, especially after watching the rambling reality show on TV where we learned that government workers are enthusiastically rallying around the President and supporting the government shutdown aka "strike." 

It amazes me that these workers want a wall (cement, steel or, heck, maybe even 'see-through' Saran wrap) more than they do their paychecks.

I was also amazed that Congress is expected to allocate 5.2 BEEEillion dollars after hearing at least three or four times each during the reality show that BEEEEillions and BEEEillions of dollars coming in from Chinese tariffs and from the new trade agreement with Mexico and Canada. 

If all those BEEEEillions are coming in, why do the taxpayers have to fork over another 5.2 BEEEEillion for the wall?

With these questions and others floating through my mind, I knew it was time to get outside and enjoy my own reality show. 

Thank God for the reality we can find while taking a simple walk through nature. 

Twasn't quite as pretty a day yesterday as the last time we walked through the preserve along Pack River a few weeks ago. 

Still, by ramping up my observation powers, I managed to find some nice little vignettes along the way. 

Fresh air, a comfortable temperature and the relative quiet, 'cept for occasional pounding and clanging on a construction site across the river, all made for a pleasant walk.

I wore my Yak Tracks, and the ice tended to be in a semi-melting mode, so walking through a couple of inches of snow and ice was pretty easy. 

We headed south from the parking lot and then once again made our way to the rustic cabin in a meadow alongside the river.  

Bill spent a minute or two taking photos with his phone to send off to our daughter Annie in Seattle, to show her, on site, that he was using the Christmas gifts she had given him, including a hat designed by one of her colleagues. 

By the time we reconnected in the meadow, Bill reported that Annie had appreciated the picture and had even shown it to her co-worker. 

Fun being "out there" but still connected in a nice way.

Our afternoon outing prepared me for another of the moments we encounter all too often in this life.  

Let me tell it this way:

"Hello, Darling."

"Well, hello, Love." 

I won't ever again get to enjoy that friendly exchange of greetings. 

"Darling" was my longtime friend and teaching colleague and a friend to so many. 

His first name was Dave. 

Dave Darling and I exchanged that greeting for years whenever we met while working together at Sandpoint High School.

Our history as friends dates back to the days of junior high for me when one of my first-ever jobs involved working for KT Littlefield, helping her clean out cabins on the Moon property at Bottle Bay. 

Dave was KT's nephew and a descendant of the Moon family, pretty much pioneers in this area. 

While on the job that summer, I spent my noon time swimming in the lake, where I met all four Darling brothers, Larry, Dave, his twin Doug and John. 

Later, Dave, a computer guru and master tinkerer, and I would teach together at SHS.  Even later, I would teach his kids.  Dave's lovely wife Ellie Munson Darling also taught elementary grades.

Ellie never seemed to mind whenever she heard me addressing her husband as "Darling." I think it was probably the same for Bill when he heard a another man call me "Love." 

It was a good and long friendship, just as I know it has been for many, many people in this community.  

Dave died early yesterday morning. 

When the word spread around the community, I heard from one of his adoring students that "Mr. Darling changed my life." 

Couldn't be a better measure of one's impact in this world. 

RIP, "Darling." 

You will be missed.