The Original Musings from the String Bean Patch

The String Bean Patch

“You’ll be doing Grandma a real big favor, if you go on out there and pick all the beans that are ready in the green bean patch.” Grandma had a way with words. I believed that no one could pick the beans the way I did. It was an honor to do it too, because I knew she had special plans for the ones that I picked. They would be delicious, no matter how she would make them. Off I went, bucket in hand, to my enchanted place.

The vegetable garden was outside to the left in the back of the house. The bean patch was at the far end. It had to be that way because the beans grew taller than anything else. Being on the far perimeter of the plot; they would not block the sun from the other vegetables. Where the bean patch was located, wasn’t anything that I gave any thought to at the time. It was far enough for me to dream and close enough for me to see everything else that was going on. No one else would have seen it quite the way I did. It was a haven, a safe place to be, dream and imagine life as an enchantment. It was perfect.

The primary mission was beans and the journey would take me past the herbs and lettuce, beyond the tomatoes, through the peas and around the carrots and finally to the beans. I always started at the end closest to the house, so I would be seen picking right away. That way I would have peace and quiet for my visit to the bean patch.

The bucket filled quickly because the crop was always abundant. Picking beans was a lot like going to church for me; I reflected on the process. Planting the dried beans in the spring when everything was still gray and cold was a clear demonstration of faith, but the warm days that followed would awaken the beans and sprouts would shoot up as if by magic. They were the fastest growing plants in the garden and I believed that if I watched them closely enough, I could see them grow. With a bucket almost full, I sat down to try it. Never did see them grow but my musings about life blossomed every time I tried.

I wondered about clouds. What would it be like to sit in the middle of a big fluffy one and float around the world? Imagine stopping it when and where I wanted, so I could step off and see what things were like in other countries; then get back on and float away again.

Occasionally a garter snake would appear and I would wonder how they lived and why they had no fear. I was much bigger and yet they were content to slither around my arms and hands then go on their merry way. Birds were the same. They would stand right next to me and peck at the ground, happily chirping away, munching on a worm or bug and then fly away when the spirit moved them. These were my great fantasies.

I wondered about people too; in general people did not seem happy. This was a big mystery to me. It seemed everyone always wanted something that they did not have. It could be money, things, relationships or a host of things. Every time I overheard conversations, I would hear talk about not having something or someone else having it instead. So I would try to personalize these desires to understand what they meant. I couldn’t.

I would try to imagine what would make life better. These were tough questions that I was pondering. It was the same whether it was on a global scale or between neighbors. People just disagreed. Well there you have it. I would get on my cloud and help people become more agreeable. Happiness was sure to follow. Those mental journeys were always fun for me. I was still young enough to imagine away any troubles, and wise enough to know that down the road life could dish up serious stuff.

These flights of fantasy were possible because in the green bean patch I believed I was safe from anything that could happen in life and I was surrounded by love. I needed nothing else. They began at the very best stage of my life and allowed me the creativity to innocently question some of life’s toughest conundrums. The answers that I found in the green bean patch were not the end-all solutions; they were the beginnings. Though the green bean patch is long gone, my lifelong search for answers continues still. I believe I am getting closer.

Ellen Rossopoulos
August 2002

Don Zeiller author of "So, You Like Turtles"

Evan, my neighbor, learning all about turtles from Don.


You’ve built a what?

I thought I was hearing things when you said you built a turtle sanctuary in your back yard. Pictures ran through my mind of your entire yard being a turtle cage. Why would someone do it, how would they do it, aren’t turtles on some endangered species list? Don’t turtles live to be 130 years old and more? Who will take it over when you are no longer here to care for them? Oh, the list of questions goes on and on.

It started when you were a little boy playing in the empty field that is behind my office. Just a toddler of five or so and in your romping imagination through the field you came face-to-face with your first box turtle. I too, know that love at first sight can be quite overpowering. Surely it was infatuation, something that would fade as other more exciting things came to you. No, this was real. This was love at first sight and it was meant to last a lifetime.

Studying turtles was not enough to satiate your appetite. On the contrary, when you found out that turtles have more natural enemies than most creatures and that the ever-expanding suburbia was destroying their natural habitats faster than they could find a new safe place to survive, the mission became apparent. You must build a sanctuary for the little ones to grow and flourish, away from crushing automobile tires, raccoons, birds, woodchucks and a host of other animals that can live quite nicely with people and on turtle meat.

When I visited your sanctuary, I tried very hard not to have any predetermined ideas about its appearance or how many turtles lived there. I wanted my experience to be pure. I wanted to absorb the essence of the place. I knew it would be a special experience. I was right.

Your sanctuary has everything a turtle needs for life: A place to be born, a head start enclosure where the little ones grow unencumbered from the threats of a normal everyday life. It is a place where a larger, more natural surrounding is open to the older turtle to romp around and play with other turtles of a similar age. All the while you keep a watchful eye to make sure everyone is well, growing and protected.

The larger turtles aged are free to walk the entire sanctuary at will. The perimeter is caged and safe from any natural predator and inside they have a choice of two ponds, various vegetation areas and assorted places to sun themselves. Mulch banks are everywhere, should the urge come to hibernate or just hunker down for a while. This is turtle heaven. Too bad a turtle can’t smile, because if they could, these guys would be grinning all the time. The sanctuary is home to turtles of all ages and varieties too, painted pond turtles, spotted turtles, box turtles and wood turtles. Wow, it boggles the mind.

I remember once walking in the forest with my dog and we came across a box turtle on its back. I felt sorry for it. It was just lying there hopeless with its legs in the air. No chance of it turning over in the position that it was in. You taught me that turtles that have been fighting for territory, and lose often end up like that. I turned the little guy over and felt like I really did a good deed that day, maybe so, if turtles live to be 130 years old. Or maybe he lived long enough to lose another territorial fight the following day. No matter, I felt that tinge of love at first sight and know what it feels like to help a turtle.

There may be more earth-shattering things to do in one’s lifetime…open-heart surgery, atom-splitting or running a fortune 500 corporation, but I doubt that any are more rewarding than your sanctuary. You have begun the care and feeding of a species that outlive the average human being, talk about a legacy! Having visited it and seeing how you have made provision for every need, even the eventual hand off to a nature center, when the time is right, is a testament to your dedication.

Turtles of the world unite, give thanks! Turtle-man is here and life is good.

NW Arkansas Botanical Gardens

I actually found this place by accident, I was looking for the entrance to a park with a 5mile walking trail.
Since I had been wanting to visit it for some time, I stopped to check it out. When it is done it will be wonderful, but for now there are only small sections that have finished plantings and all the rock formations and water falls are under construction.
The childrens area has a bridge, a nest to play in, waterfalls and hollowed out 'tree trunks' for hide and seek.
I may have enjoyed it more today than later when done, because today, I imagined how it would be finished, the reality will likely be something entirely different.
Never took the hike, went printer and car shopping instead.

Birdie

This is my pet Cockatiel. KC which stands for kisses and cuddles, since he is so affectionate. We do all sorts of things together, like sing, whistle, dance and share meals. He is way more fun than I thought a bird could possibly be. I know it is a boy bird 'cause he hates the vacuum and can't stand to do dishes.



KC: Stay tuned for how she came to purchase me...

You need something alive in the house

During my early working career I dreamed of having a dog. There is something about animal love that is different than people love. Remembering the dog I had as a child brought back so many happy memories, the desire to have one again just wouldn’t go away. Each time the urge came over me I was able to put it off by reasoning why “now” was not the right time.

If you really love the dog, how can you think of leaving it alone for so many hours everyday when you work? Are you sure you want to destroy your nice furnishings? Who will watch him when you travel on business and vacations? You are going to walk it everyday in the rain and snow? Is it fair to the animal? Is it fair to you? What would your husband say about it? All these questions I easily answered in the negative and could comfortably put off any further decisions on dogs until retirement was a real possibility.

Time passed and I became a widow. I saw my life through a shattered prism. I learned the meaning of grief and the soul searching that is required curriculum. I discovered the differences between alone and lonely, two very different things. I questioned my very existence and whether it should continue or not. I went to therapy.

Therapy is interesting. You get to share your innermost pain, happiness and fear. When you think you have established some kind of relationship with the therapist, they ask you a question that is so off the wall, that you wonder where it came from. I had just gone through, in gory detail, the events leading to my husband’s death. I talked about how I was holding up…I talked about how I wasn’t holding up. Yes, I love my job. It keeps me sane. Yes my friends are very supportive. Yes I go out and do things like shop, eat, visit with friends and see a movie.

What’s that? Who lives with me? No one.

Pets? No, I don’t have any.

That began a lengthy discussion about how I needed something alive in the house. The first suggestion was a dog. I had all the answers for that argument; I went through it so many times before. But she wouldn’t let up. She said, “What about a cat?” No I don’t want my sofa ripped to shreds. She said, “What about a fish?” The conversation in my mind was now bordering on pathetic. How could I get close to a fish, I wondered? I simply said no, I don’t think so. I suggested that we talk about some of the real problems that I was going through.

So, we talked some about widowhood. Then in the middle of the discussion, she said, “You should get yourself a cockatiel.” I said, “I don’t think so” and tried to get on with the conversation. Couldn’t she see I needed to talk about this other stuff? What is it with therapists anyway? Finally, back to the previous discussion, I thought I was making progress. The therapist was asking relevant questions and we were moving through the topic. As the conversation was coming to an end, the idea of a cockatiel began to appeal to me. I said, “A cockatiel, huh?” The therapist responded with a dry, matter-of-fact “Yes, they are very good companions and don’t require much attention.” Humm.

The hour was almost up and I found I couldn’t get the thought out of my mind. As we said our goodbyes, I said I would think about it. “Yes, think about it indeed. Kazimirs on Anderson is a great little pet shop, go there and ask about Cockatiels,” she said.

I went to several stores looking for Cockatiels and had discussions about them with people in each shop. I learned a lot about these birds and became more comfortable with the idea of having one, but, of course, it would have to pass my standard pet argument list that I used so many times to put off getting a dog. Mentally running through the list, I ticked off each one and found that I ended up with a definite maybe on getting the bird. I began to get excited about it.

I returned to Kazimirs and put the plan of acquisition into place. They had a breeder that lived close by and would let me know when the next brood would be ready to leave the nest. A colleague told me to be sure to get one that likes me, otherwise I could be asking for big trouble. I wasn’t sure how I would do that, but the warning stuck in my brain.

The weeks seemed like forever and finally the call came that four birds were ready to be sold. They would be available at the end of the week. I went to the store that day to get all the paraphernalia that would be needed: the cage, food, toys, millet sprays, and a variety of other things. In the three days it took me to fit the trip into my schedule to pick mine out; two had already been taken. Panic started to take over in my mind. Only two birds left and one of them has to like me.

I went directly to the store after work and began the arduous task, still not knowing how I was going to figure out if the bird liked me or not. I saw them instantly, both gorgeous. “How am I ever going to pick which one is for me?” I wondered. The owner showed me the birds and said, “Which one do you want?” The time had come…which one? I had no clue but had faith that somehow there would be a sign and I would know. So I took my time, I looked at each of them and tried to decide. I could not. They were both perfect. Just when I was about to say either would do, the one in the back made a loud screech. The rest was easy. I took the other one.

She was right you know. The therapist, I mean. I did need something alive in the house. The bird has really made a difference in my life. There is most definitely something about animal love. Yes, the bird likes me and we have a great relationship. Another baby step in this forlorn journey of widowhood. It’s just the two of us making our way in this our new life together. Thank you Kazimirs.



Copyright 2002
E Rossopoulos

Verse

Rebirth…

What?
from the ashes of a burned out life
a lonely ember flickers and struggles to be
not grow and take over
but exist among the ruins
for as long as it takes


Why?
to become a whole being
able to love, share, comfort, excite
depend, nourish, grow and meld
with a kindred spirit


How?
Allowing the heart to speak
the silent language of love
through touch, space and time
allowing the flesh physical expression
of our hearts unbounded joy and peace


When?
In Mexico, the connections first spark.
Last week as we came to know
our passion driven hearts and
Now, when I picture your face and
imagine your touch
my heart has substance, to build a love
strong and tender, ethereally solid and
joyously sacred.


E Rossopoulos
copyright June 7, 2007

Volo Bog hike

We hiked the periphery of the Volo Bog area which is about 3.5 miles long; there is a shorter interpretive trail into the bog at 0.5 miles.


The bog itself is surounded by beautiful prairie grass, tried to capture it as best I could.

Biking and Hiking in Illinois

Chuck stopped to look at the I&M Canal, so I was able to get a good close up shot of him and a canal sign.



When we returned
to Wauconda, we hiked on the trails that surround his neighborhood and got a few more shots. It rained like the devil later on and I was glad the weather had cooperated the way it did.