Shrouded Shore: The Many Musings of Thom Singleton

  Images of Nepal A country landlocked, but soaring to the highest point on Earth. Women toting impossible loads on their heads down dirt roads. Men pedaling enormous tricycles through traffic with long lengths of bamboo or rebar dragging behind. Men and women hawking homemade violins and necklaces in narrow city streets. Potters fashioning clay bowls and firing them in a furnace open to the street. Artists painting depictions of spiritual images in a street level shop. Fearsome stone beasts scowling outside ancient temples and palaces. Monsoon rains settling the city dust, and providing water to crops in the lowlands. Green city gardens perfectly manicured by workers sitting on the lawn and pulling tiny weeds. A vast and rambling palace, scene of the murder of the entire royal family by the king’s own son, whose marriage - to a woman not chosen by his parents - was denied by them. A woodcarver at work fashioning small Nepali souvenirs, rhinos, crocs, and elephants. A walk to the river

  October Haiku What flew past my house? It’s a flock of yellow birds. Or leaves in the wind.

  You Own the Land? In solidarity with our Native American brothers and sisters, who have lived on the Land for many generations… The Great Spirit gave the Land to all: the Trees, the Flowers, the Herbs, the Bear, the Deer, the Birds, the Animals of every kind, and the People. We thank the Spirit for sharing the bounty of the Land. We thank the Spirit for the Rain and Snow that replenishes the Waters. We thank the Spirit in all of Nature for giving us the new spring shoots, for the Rain that quenches their thirst and ours, for the Fish of the Waters, for the Fruits of the Trees, for the Animals that walk with us, and the Birds that fly. Yes, we harvest the Deer, the Turkey, and the Fruits of the Land, but not before bowing to the Spirit within them for sharing their life with us. We take from the Land only what we need, and give back in return. Being thankful and careful with our use of the Land, the Deer, the Birds, the Fish see this and return to share themselves with us. We have don

  There’s Gold in Them Thar Trees There’s gold in them thar trees. Yellow gold, the fall trees returning their nutrients to the Earth for the tree’s nurturance. These leaves, summer powerhouses of photosynthesis,  turn their life-giving energy to the soil in fall, below the tree on which they grew, and which they nourished all summer. In summer, leaves used water from the roots, carbon from the air, and the Sun’s energy to make sugar, which powers the growth of the tree and its fruits. Fallen leaves replenish the tree’s nutrients. Remember: leaves use carbon, and exhale oxygen, without which we’re dead. Don’t rake them all, leave some for the tree.  

  Who Is… As forthright as a judge? As resilient as steel? As industrious as a beaver? As aware of safety as a doe protecting her fawn? As quick with care as a first responder? As interested in other’s well being as her mother and father? As sociable, personable, friendly as they come? As grateful, appreciative, and thankful as well? As inquisitive as a kitten? As politically minded as anyone, but for the people not the politicians? As prepared as the farmer with his harvest in the barn? As open as a flower? A planner, a forward thinker, a list maker, and doer? A good neighbor who will turn on a dime in the service of others? A big sister, a person people turn to? A reader, a lover of books? Thrifty and cost conscious?  Emotionally upfront, so what you see is what you get? The one whose smile elicits smiles from others? Pleasant to the eye, and sweet as candy? It’s great to report, my wife!!!

  Rose-Breasted Grosbeak A bill like a small parrot’s An over-head mantle and wings of black swooshed with white With that signature rose-red splash across the white breast A handsome guy How can a female grosbeak resist? Well, it looks like she couldn’t. Saw the female yesterday, hanging-out with him And again today, looking quite satisfied

  Isla’s Smile Isla, Islea, Isloa, Isla Isloa, Isla, Isloa, Isla Isla, Islea, Isloa, Isla Isla, Isla, Isla You are a child who makes us smile Who makes us smile Who makes us smile You are a child who makes us smile Isla, Isla, Isla (Refrain) Your Mommy, your Mommy is Nadia She’s Nadia She’s Nadia Your Mommy, your Mommy is Nadia Now we know why you smile (Refrain) Your Daddy, your Daddy is Simon, yeah He’s Simon, yeah He’s Simon, yeah Your Daddy, your Daddy is Simon, yeah Now we know why you smile (Refrain) Your family, your family is loving yah They’re loving yah They’re loving yah Your family, your family is loving  yah Now we know why you smile Isla, Islea, Isloa, Isla Isloa, Isla, Isloa, Isla Isla, Islea, Isloa, Isla Isla, Isla, Isla (Refrain)

  The Wilds of Nepal Monsoon raining Mountains clouding Water buffalo wading Spotted deer grazing Monkeys chattering Crocodiles lurking Elephants trumpeting Rhinos rumbling Peacocks strutting Dugout canoes coursing Distant clouds breaking Himalayas peeking

  Nepal, a Country of Contrasts Nepal is a land of greatly varied topography: the highest mountains in the world, the Himalayas, the Himalayan foothills which would be termed mountains anywhere else, and a low-elevation - near sea-level - river plain where most of the crop production occurs. Earth’s plate that collided with the Asian continent to form the Himalayas continues to move northward at about two inches per year, causing periodic, devastating earthquakes.The country has a fifth season, the monsoon, between summer and fall. Heavy monsoon rains, combined with the extreme drop in topography, causes severe flooding and landslides, damaging farmland and roads. Despite these dangers, there is tremendous potential for hydropower, but little infrastructure to support building dams. The country, now a federal, democratic republic, was ruled by a king as recently as 2008, then the world’s only Hindu kingdom.  It is a country where tourism has become the leading source of income, but whe

  Lost in Kathmandu Lost in the maze of winding, narrow streets, more like alleyways, and bounded seemingly everywhere by tiny, open-air shops in three-story buildings, with motor scooters - “scooties” - flying by. Lost in the traffic jams, streets with no apparent lanes, just many scooties weaving through the pedestrians, the trucks, the busses, the rickshaws, the large tricycles carrying produce, or long lengths of bamboo, or whatever else to transport by pedal power. Lost in the language of the scores of ethnicities inhabiting Nepal, some with Oriental features, others not, all speaking different tongues. Lost among the tangled, overhead power lines “garlanding” every pole, old lines never removed, and the stray dogs inhabiting most every street. Lost among the flickering lights of power outages, brief but frequent. Lost among the street vendors hawking their wares, following you down the street to make a sale, and the bent backs of old women carrying large loads. Lost among the anc

  The Shining of Things      All names fall short of the shining of things.                         - Name of the writer of these shining words unknown The shining of the sun through the golden autumn leaves The shining of the dew on blades of grass still green The shining white clouds against the powder blue sky The shining of eagle’s white head as high he flies by The shining of the water on the calm surface of the pond The shining of the baby’s face, a smile so round The shining of the breaks on the darkened forest floor The shining of your eyes, windows to your heart’s core Words attempt to shine like the experiences they describe, interpreted as best as possible in the watchful eye of the scribe.

  August, Almost Three, on Lost Dogs - Well, Feet - and Frogs Scene 1: August, on a walk with Mom, sat down on the sidewalk, and said “I can’t walk home.”                Mom asked, “Why not?”                August replied, “I don’t have any feet anymore.”  Scene 2: At August’s daycare, Mom told his teacher in a husky tone, “I lost my voice.”                With August present, his teacher replied, “Oh, you have a frog in your throat.”                August then asked, “Did you eat a frog?” Mom reports that he has been trying to look                 In her mouth ever since,

  Conversing with a Cardinal A green blanket still covers the yard with green. However, now that it’s October, the grass is dotted with the flaming colors of fallen leaves, and occasionally - overnight - a gauzy frost. Luckily we returned home from travels in time to shelter the hibiscus in the sun porch, the large plants still sporting showy blossoms and buds yet to open. It’s time to bring out the leaf rakes and make piles across our half-acre, and remove them to the bordering woods. A cardinal gets lost in the camouflage of the red leaves yet to fall from the maple. He complains to me that the flock of grackles that descended on the feeder yesterday left it empty. Well, I tell him, those grackles are flocking-up for a reason. They will soon head South, and leave you, the blue jays, and the chickadees to yourselves at the feeder. I thank him, though, for the reminder to refill the feeder. I, after all, have beaks to feed.