Awesome Women: Explorers

In the late 1700s, an explorer named Jean Baret circumnavigated the globe and served as an assistant to naturalist Philibert Commerçon. As is often the case, much of Baret's work was overlooked in favor of Philibert's, but scientists today have concluded that Baret made many important discoveries of his own.“Baret collected thousands of plant specimens from exotic locales around the globe, and, according to Ridley, likely collected the first specimen of one of the world’s most beloved flowering plants—bougainvillea,” wrote biologist Eric Tepe. The discovery was previously attributed to Commerçon. 

(Parenthetically, I happen to be smitten by bougainvillea, and have been frustrated for years that I can't get my little shrub of the stuff to be anything larger than shrub-sized.)

Here's the really cool part, bougainvillea notwithstanding - Jean Baret was actually Jeanne Baret. As was also typical back then, a woman would have been prohibited from doing the type of exploring that JEAN did, so she was forced to disguise herself as a man. As such, JEANNE was the first woman to circumnavigate the globe. 

In honor of the amazing explorer, Tepe is now naming one of his newly discovered flower species after her: Solanum baretiae is a distant relative of the potato and tomato. He says, “I don’t think she ever expected recognition in her own lifetime, just because women who were involved in science were thought of, at best, as something of an oddity, and, at worst, they were thought of as an abomination.”

In tomorrow's edition of amazing women, I'll share an article with you that is particularly eye-opening and shows that in some circles, not a lot has changed in 400 years. 

The Lofty Hills of Autumn

Go, sit upon the lofty hill,
And turn your eyes around,
Where waving woods and waters wild
Do hymn an autumn sound.
The summer sun is faint on them —
The summer flowers depart —
Sit still — as all transform’d to stone,
Except your musing heart.

How there you sat in summer-time,
May yet be in your mind;
And how you heard the green woods sing
Beneath the freshening wind.
Though the same wind now blows around,
You would its blast recall;
For every breath that stirs the trees,
Doth cause a leaf to fall.
-- Elizabeth Barrett Browning, 1833

I love autumn. I love it when shadows lengthen early in the day. I love it when I go running in the morning, and even knowing that it will be a warm day, there's a hint of cool in the air indicating the season has subtly shifted from the warm embrace of summer to the cooler whisper of fall. I love watching yellowed leaves gently twist in the air to the ground. 

I love the prospect of hot cocoa, spiced cider, sweaters, more blankets at night (or ANY blankets at night, really), and cooler weather. 

I love it so much, I wish it would hurry and get here! I wore a sweater to work today, justified in the knowledge that it was 55* this morning when i went running and the high was expected to only be 74*. When I left work at 5:00, I was definitely overdressed since the temperature was overachieving at 78*. 

But the potential is there. 

 

'Tis the Gift to Be Simple

One of the most beautiful things I saw on our photo/adventure trip was quietly majestic and graceful. In the midst of buskers, beggars and barkers was a little group of Mennonites standing in front of an abandoned, barred theater peacefully singing. They refused to let the noisy distractions of the world deter them from delivering their message of peace. Two at a time would take a break from singing to hand out CDs of hymns to passersby.

I asked a boy where they were from and he said some came from Colorado, some from Washington and some from Pennsylvania.

I think it takes a great deal of courage to be so different and boldly STAND for what you believe in. Not in a noisy way, just quietly standing out.

Olvera Street

Olvera Street is home to the oldest neighborhood in Los Angeles. Or at least, the oldest house. I know, cuz I saw it and a sign told me so. It's a short half-block walk from the Union Station train stop. It's filled with kiosks selling over-priced "authentic" souvenirs and over-priced restaurants. Though I don't doubt for one moment that the food is delicious, we didn't stop to eat there. We just wandered down the sidewalk and took in the sights and sounds. And oh yes, the smells.

Two musicians warming up for a performance later.

The view of the cathedral from under some kiosks.

The walkway to get into the oldest house.

The view through a grape arbor.

More grapes.

The flourishing bougainvillea mocks me.

 

Beautiful tree. 

Speaking of trees, how many children had to die to make this one?

Red-throated Bird of Paradise

cimblog(tm) took a fun little excursion last weekend. We bought some Metro tickets and took the train downtown. Our goal was to do a little exploring and take some pictures. There's always adventure just around the next corner - you just have to be willing to go TO the corner to find it. It's easy to forget, living in the suburbs, how much is at the corner and beyond. It's easy to sit and feel safe where you are, wanting for nothing.

One of the pictures I snapped that I'm so very pleased with was right outside Union Station train station. There was a little hummingbird flitting and zipping in and out of the plants and  flowers. He stopped twice - once to allow me to see where he was and notice that he was of the red-throated variety, and the second time long enough for me to capture him. I love how he is mirroring the plant.


 

Memory Lane

A Facebook friend of mine posted about a location in my hometown that she was visiting. It sounded familiar, but I couldn't immediately place where it was. I looked on Google Maps, and then got lost. In my very hometown. Not lost like, "I don't know where I am and can't navigate my way out of a wet paper bag!" but lost like, "Wow. I wonder what THAT looks like now? I wonder if I can find my friend's house now?"

It was a virtual reality adventure. I found my first elementary school, but not the second - it's been torn down and/or repurposed. I found my house and neighborhood (not a lot has changed); I found the ward building; a park where I spent a lot of time playing; friends' houses; and even the lake. Yes, my home town has a lake. It's probably more of a pond, but we called it a lake, so a lake it shall be. The road leading to it is even called "Lakeside Drive," so it must be a lake. Otherwise it would be called "Pondside Drive."

Wandering my little virtual Jane avatar on those hilly streets, I found the house where I spent quite a bit of time in my childhood. Two of my older sisters did some babysitting for a family that had four boys - the oldest two were twins and just two days younger than me. I frequently accompanied my sisters on those gigs. (I hope it was easy for them to have someone there to play with the boys.) They lived in what I thought of as a magical house at the top of a hill with a steep driveway. There were toys that I didn't have and for a tomboy, it was paradise to have access to all those boys' toys - Legos, Lincoln Logs, toy guns...and I don't know what all else. The back of the house jutted up against a hill, providing an endless playground for children with active imaginations. We dug tunnels, played cowboys and Indians or cops and robbers - whatever struck us on any given day.

The twins got 10-speed bicycles for Christmas one year. The boys were down the street (down the driveway, and DOWN the hilly street) playing with some other friends one day when my sisters were babysitting. It was time for lunch, and I was sent to fetch them. I figured it would be quicker to ride than walk, so I hopped on one of those bikes and took off.

The twins were identical, and the bicycles nearly were as well. There were a few minor differences though, that I didn't find out until halfway down the very steep driveway. I had unwittingly chosen the bike that didn't have working brakes. I was going too fast to be able to hop off without causing damage to both of us, so I held on, steering the best I could and tried to avoid hitting any parked cars. At the bottom of the driveway the street flattened out to the right, or continued downhill to the house where the twins were playing. I hung on and kept going down the street.

In another several yards there was a cul-de-sac, or a one-way roundabout/circle. The middle of it was grassy with a huge tree in it, with houses ringing the outside of it. I saw this as my best chance for stopping. I was also probably going too fast to really have any other choice.

I started into the circle, and then just...laid down the bike. It went skidding under a parked car, and I splatted and fell the other way. This all happened right in front of the house that was my original destination, so it worked perfectly. The twins and their friend came running out to see what the racket was, immediately sussed what had happened and said, "You brought Richard's bike, huh? The brakes don't work."

I was a bit scratched and bruised, but those were easily forgotten as my coolness level had just risen substantially in the boys' eyes. We all walked back up the hill chatting excitedly about what I had just accomplished. I like to think they were actually a bit jealous. Here are the pictures I found on Google maps. I'm pleased to say that it really is still just as steep as I remember.

The driveway. See how steep it is? 

This is at the bottom of the driveway looking down the street.

More hilly street.

The choice - turn right into no-man's land, or keep going straight into the circle.

The cul-de-sac.

The house with the picket fence is the one I crashed in front of. The bike and I were ultimately both okay.

Looking back up the street towards where it all started.

Thursday Mountains

I went running yesterday. No, that's not news. I go running a lot of days. I annoyingly wake up even before my alarm goes off and have the daily mental argument with myself about getting up, pulling on shorts, putting on a bra, cramming my bed hair into a cap and hitting the road. The road wins every day. Not Mondays, though. On Mondays I can justify that since I'll be in spin class that night I don't have to go running that morning. That thought never brings comfort in the form of sleep. Just comfort in the form of not having to go running.

My friend Amy has started going with me two days a week. She was my walking buddy on Tuesday nights. Now she's my running buddy on Wednesdays and Fridays. She graciously drives to my house since I have a route in my neighborhood that I know and trust. Since she's just getting back into running after a multi-year hiatus, she lets me choose the running route. Even though we're on my turf, she sets the pace. I believe in not only running faster than you have strength, but also in not running faster than your running buddy. It defeats the purpose. I also know that pretty soon she'll be out-pacing me, and I'll have to keep up with HER, which will be good for me. So for now, I'm content to walk when she needs to, or set a goal to "run to the next tree," and in-between, we talk about....whatever occurs to us. Stream of consciousness running-buddy conversation.

Yesterday was Thursday. I had no running buddy to text me telling me she would meet me in 15 minutes. But the road won the argument ... again. I rolled out of bed and pulled on my running clothes, already set out the night before (I know the road always wins). Brushed my teeth, ate some grapes, caught up on Words with Friends while waiting for the grapes to get past my esophagus, and hit the road.

With no running buddy, I felt no need to do a pre-set route. I decided to try some hill training. They say (the running powers that be) that running hills is a good way to improve your overall speed when you run a race. What the heck - I need all the help I can get. I started running uphill. (Ironically enough, one of the hills I did went past Amy's house.) Now I'm running in a different direction than I usually do, and on different roads, so I have to pay more attention. I can't just schlub my way through the streets. I have to breathe, concentrate, set goals: "I can make it to that lamppost then walk for 20 yards to catch my breath."

During one moment as I'm not too terribly oxygen deprived, I think about how temples are always on the top of hills or mountains. Even before the actual edifice of a temple existed, the prophets would go to the top of a mountain to receive revelation. Moses went to Sinai and Horeb - good stuff happened in those places. Nephi learned how to build a boat while he was on a mountain. Getting to the tops of those mountains couldn't have been easy. They didn't have Jeeps. They didn't have cushy running shoes or hiking boots to protect ankles and feet. They wore sandals. Sandals with lots of spaces for rocks and pebbles to get into. Their feet must have been plenty calloused. We don't really hear about their journey to the top of the mountain; just what happens once they get there. But it couldn't have been fun. They probably had their fair share of internal dialogue running through their minds. "First my bow breaks, now this. It's just not enough, is it? Everyone griping at me about not having enough food, but I don't see THEM going to the mountain."

On second thought, I'm probably projecting. Nephi wouldn't have had those types of thoughts....would he? (See 2 Nephi 4 for an answer to this - let me know what you think.)

Running uphill isn't easy. You're working against gravity. Working against yourself. Your body complains, wonders, "What did I do to deserve this? Wasn't I good to you yesterday? We ate, we laughed, we hung out, and you do THIS to me?"

There are a lot of gospel principles and life lessons to be learned from running uphill. Getting to places to commune with God isn't easy. It's a struggle. You work against opposition (gravity)and you think, "What was wrong with those flat roads down there? I was happy there. I was still running and exercising and getting all those benefits, but now I have to WORK and it's uncomfortable and I don't like it."

Then you get to the top. You can hardly believe it - but the road has leveled out, and you can stand up straight again and BREATHE. Blessed oxygen flows through your lungs and you feel human again.

You breathe again, look around and ... Wow. The sun isn't quite up yet, but the clouds are tinged with a golden pink glow. Beautiful. Breathe again, listen to the birds talking to each other. Breathe again, and there's the hint that summer's almost over as the cool air fills your lungs.

Breathe again, and...thank you, Heavenly Father, for putting me on this earth to enjoy this sunrise, this body, these lungs, this beating heart, this beautiful view, and even the sweat dripping down my face.

Look at that view! I may not know what the day holds for me - what obstacles I may face, challenges I get to overcome, but the experience of overcoming THIS challenge, climbing THIS hill tells me that I can handle whatever else may come my way today.

Perspective is more easily gained from a higher vantage point. Inspiration comes after the climb.