September 30 - Speaking Out

Speaking out is a two way street. It’s a responsibility for those of us who are sight challenged, but it’s also extremely helpful when people who are sighted speak out to alert us to their presence or offer assistance. 

This past month I have been relearning these two lessons. Lyle has been busy with September harvest and I have been coping with daily routine on my own. Now I know that many of you who are blind or partially sighted live alone and cope admirably well with the pattern of daily life by yourselves, but because Lyle and I usually do things together, I need to rethink things when I am alone.

I started the month with walks to the grocery store. After my first foray there when I bought the wrong kind of sandwich meat, a package of fish that wasn’t what I had really meant to pick out, and came away without a couple of other items that I couldn’t locate on the shelves, I remembered what I needed to do. I needed to speak out and ask for assistance. While I am pretty good at asking for help in anonymous places like airports and foreign cities, I found it more difficult to pluck up the nerve to ask for help in the local grocery store. A couple of unhelpful responses didn’t help matters. One store assistant advised me that next time I came shopping I had better bring my magnifying glass. Although I held my tongue with this comment, on the inside I wanted to trip her with my cane.

Thinking of two way streets reminds me of the story of the blind woman who was waiting near a busy street intersection. A very friendly and helpful Boy Scout type person came along and insisted on helping the blind woman across the street. Perhaps you have guessed the punch line. The woman had not wanted to cross the road at all. The intersection where she waited was the appointed spot where she was to meet a friend. Speaking out sometimes means graciously but firmly refusing help when it isn’t needed. This latter is often confusing for people who are sighted and want to help. I usually tell people that it is fine to offer assistance but not to be offended or take it as a personal insult if I refuse the offer and prefer to act independently.

I am nearly always perfectly fine in my own neighbourhood when I am out walking alone. I tend to walk on familiar routes and I use my cane with more purpose than when I am walking with someone else. My problem is that I tend to walk fairly quickly and so if someone is coming towards me, I won’t “see” them until they are almost on top of me. I do appreciate it when people speak or make some sound so that I know that we are nearing each other.

Let me tell you this story of the Monday before last. I was walking in the shop area when I suddenly heard someone whistling. The whistling was coming from above me. I stopped instantly. It was a good thing too. I was centimeters away from running straight into some scaffolding that had been erected since the last time I had walked the same route. I hadn’t detected the temporary structure because my cane had found its way into the empty space between the posts. I’m not sure if the fellow up on the higher level was whistling because he was happy or because he saw me coming with my cane. Regardless, I am quite sure that he was happy that I stopped when I did and didn’t send him tumbling to the ground.

There are many stories that could be told about the advantages of speaking out. Whether you are blind or whether you are sighted, I hope that you have found today’s post helpful and encouraging.

September 24 - Up Close and Personal

Distance distorts detail. If you are looking at something that is far away in the distance, the details are probably blurred. In fact, sometimes colour itself becomes murky. Size too, might be difficult to determine when perspective is lost. I guess that this distortion of far away objects isn’t a problem for me. I simply don’t see anything at all in the distance.

However, even when things are moderately close, I encounter similar difficulties with distortion of detail, colour, shape and even size. I like to be up close and personal when I am looking at something. If I want to get a closer look at something I am interested in, I like to be close enough so that I can reach out and touch it. That is what the pictures in this post are about.

There are two pictures. The first picture shows a flat field with a collection of round bales extending into the distance, but the second picture is an up close shot of a single bale. I am standing in front of the bale. I have my arms stretched out so that you can see – and I can feel – the length of the bale. My outstretched fingertips just reach the front and back ends of the bale. The bale is approximately as high as I am tall. In the picture I am wearing a bright yellow jacket. The bright yellow of the jacket is in sharp contrast to the yellowish brown tone of the straw.  The straw in the bale was quite prickly to the touch.

bales in the field

Sue with a bale

There is much to see and hear as the feel of fall is in the air. The geese are announcing the beginning of their journey south. The brilliantly coloured leaves that have adorned our trees, are turning to crackling remnants under our feet. There is a cold nip and an occasional frost in the early mornings. I am definitely noticing the shortened daylight hours. For those of us who live in Alberta, we have already experienced our first snowfall. Change is all around us. I hope that you also have an opportunity to get up close and personal with the changes that this season brings.

September 7 - Yellowstone

Summer days are drawing to a close and there is a definite nip in the air. This past week Lyle and I were fortunate enough to grab one more week of camping. Our destination was Yellowstone National Park. We had been there before but so long ago that our memory of that last trip was fairly vague. I do remember that the previous holiday was in mid-summer and it was hot. This time around, fall was beginning to show its hand.

It was overcast when we drove through the north gate of Yellowstone National Park. The greens, browns and yellows of the trees and mountains that bordered the road blended together in a dark mass of indeterminate colour. Even the sky seemed drained of its regular blue and appeared as a dirty grey dome overhead. Every so often, the bland landscape was punctuated by a rising spurt of brilliant white steam from an erupting geyser.

We made our first stop at the boardwalk at Norris. Thinking that it was a boardwalk, I didn’t take my cane with me when we left the car. It was a mistake. As Lyle reminded me, I should always have my cane with me. Before the beginning of the boardwalk there was a series of uneven steps – not so easy to negotiate without my cane.

The walk around Norris was fascinating. At one point, we were looking into a small sinkhole when on the other side of the walkway a geyser suddenly came to life. It was totally unexpected. There was only one other couple on the path with us and we stood together watching the steam and boiling water burst fifteen or twenty feet straight up. I was more impressed with this small geyser than I was when we watched for Old Faithful on the following day. At Old Faithful the crowds were kept away at I suppose was a safe distance, but it was too far away for me to see the famous geyser with any clarity.

Another point of interest was the boardwalk around the Paintpots. In recent history a large crater had opened up and the bacterial mats of orange, green and slime brown spread out from very close to the walkway. It felt a little surreal and in my imagination, perhaps like walking over the surface of an alien planet. Just as interesting was the boiling water which flowed from the upper crater into the river at the start of the walk. A sign read that 500 gallons of water flowed from the crater and into the river every minute.

There are three pictures with this. The first shows a pool of boiling, bubbling water with steam rising on the side. The second picture is of one of the smaller geysers. In the third picture, I am standing in front of the stream of boiling water, which is emptying into the river at a rate of 500 gallons of water per minute each and every day of the year. 

Bubbling pool

Small geyser

Sue and more bubbling water