Seeking Eagles #365Yoga

Photo of a Bald Eagle taken at the Toledo Zoo. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Taped to the wall behind the yoga studio's reception desk is a snapshot of a bald eagle, captured by one of our yoga teacher training graduates. Bald eagles are native to the Adirondacks, although they had to be reintroduced in the 1980s after DDT use in the 1960s all but wiped them out. Now they are spotted throughout the Adirondacks, but, unfortunately, never by me.

I enjoy practicing and teaching Garudasana, known in English as eagle pose. In deference to the presence of America's bird, it seems fitting to wrap arms and legs into the look of a perched eagle at our Adirondack studio. Exclusive to North America, the bald eagle could not have been the intended reference in the Sanskrit name. There are Indian spotted eagles and short-toed eagles, but it is generally agreed that the name honors Vishnu's mount Garuda, a massive half-man, half-eagle known for devouring serpents.

Here in the Adirondack mountains, surrounded by so much of the natural world including the elusive, at least to me, bald eagle, I can't help but bring the spirit of that beautiful bird into my practice of eagle pose, despite its Indian origins. As a shamanic totem, the eagle represents access to higher planes of consciousness. Borrowing the eagle's strong wings and courage, you are free to fly to great spiritual heights.

Being birds, the eagle is associated with air, but they have sturdy legs to walk on the earth and hunt over water, and thus are grounded while seeking spirit and also carry the cleansing energy of water. This is very balanced energy, fitting the balance of eagle pose. Whether on my mat or on a rock, I embrace Adirondack bald eagle energy in Garudasana. Perhaps, after enough practice, I'll finally get to see one.

Here it comes...

“And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow in fast movies, I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer.” 
~ F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

The calendar says summer doesn't begin until June 20th, but here in our lake town Memorial Day marks the start of the summer season. We welcome back our seasonal residents, who take advantage of the long weekend to open their Adirondack homes, mow their lawns and launch their boats. This year, Schroon Lake is marking the start of summer with a weekend-long celebration, including a non-motorized boat chain across the lake, a motorized boat parade, live music, and, one of my favorites, a rock climbing wall. Plus there is an Expo in the park and on Main Street on Saturday afternoon. I'll be in the park manning True North Yoga's booth, which will host a bellydance demonstration by Natalie, who is returning for another series of workshops this summer, and leading a "welcome summer with sun salutations" mini-class.

The Expo runs from 2:00 - 8:00 pm on Saturday. The studio is also open for all regularly scheduled yoga classes during the long weekend, so you can take a break from lawn-mowing and boat-launching and enjoy some serious relaxation. Be warned, though. Yoga has been known to inspire hammock-hanging and nap-taking, leaving the lawn growing until June.

It always seems like a mad dash to reach the lazy days of summer, and this year was no exception. Determined not to leave anything until the last minute, I've been frantically getting everything ready at not-quite the last minute. It's been lots of work, and I'm short a few hours sleep, but there's some wonderful stuff lined up at the yoga studio for June, July and August.

Now I can give some thought to my family's summer plans, including plays by the Adirondack Shakespeare Company, musicals at Seagle Music Colony and performances at the Boathouse Theater sponsored by the Arts Council, all right here in Schroon Lake. And there are mountains to climb and rivers to paddle.

Do you make plans for summer? Back in the days when vacations needed to be scheduled in advanced and day camps arranged, I usually had my summer calendar filled in by the end of March. Now that we live where we used to vacation, I've let summer unroll on it's own. But I've found that without a plan, or at least a clear intention, the hours and days fly by and I feel like we didn't do much of anything. Last year I started Wednesday adventures with my eight-year-old, to make sure we at least climbed a mountain each week. This year I'm setting more intentions and I'm going to formalize them a bit more with a fun e-course called "My Summer Manifesto," led by Kelly Dahl, personal coach and editor of Sparrow Magazine. (Speaking of Sparrow Magazine, look for an article by yours truly in the summer issue, which goes live on June 1).

There's lots to do in Schroon Lake this summer. I'm looking forward to seeing all my summer yoga students and enjoying the time between classes with my family. Get ready, because here it comes!

The Resuscitation of Wednesday Adventures

Since the unseasonably high temperatures are probably the first sign that the Mayans were right and the human race is doomed in December, I figured I'd better take advantage of the time I have left and not let a beautiful day go by without getting outside. When my husband saw me pull out my hiking boots, he took a vacation day to join me.

Mount Severance happens to be just a few minutes down the road from our house and is a great first hike of the season. It's short, not even 2 miles round trip, but just steep enough to wake up our legs after a winter's rest. And the views from the summit are outstanding.

We watched the ice melting on Schroon Lake

I enjoy hiking mid-week because we often have the trails to ourselves. We were on our own at the summit until two gentlemen came over the crest. The elder looked like he was wearing his "Sunday drive" clothes and I wondered if his wife would scold him for getting mud on his shoes. (While the mud wasn't too bad due to the lack of snow this winter, there was still a number of squishy spots.) The younger snapped a few pictures, then they disappeared back down the mountain and we were left to eat lunch in peace.

Mountaintops are perfect places to journal

And it was peaceful. Other than the hum of trucks going by on Route 87 below, there was nothing but the birds singing and the shutter clicking on my husband's camera as he captured the view. The breeze carried the smell of pine.

When I get to mountaintops, I never want to leave. When the mountain is serene and the sky is a perfect blue, the sun is warm with just enough breeze to keep it comfortable, and it's too early in the season for bugs except a few happy butterflies, I need to be dragged back down, kicking and screaming. (That is a bit of an exaggeration, but I really didn't want to leave.)

The last of the snowmelt running downhill made the stream very pretty

My husband and I wandered down the back side of the mountain for a bit, delaying our descent. When we returned to the summit we discovered we were again not alone, but this time one of the trio which had arrived was a friend of ours. It would have been nice to stay and chat, but we did have to beat the school bus home.

Being married to an amateur photographer requires patience

It's been a tough month, preparing for a busier spring and summer at the yoga studio and launching the Bona Fide Butterflies, and I needed an adventure. And, judging from how heavy my legs felt, my body needed a hike. The mountaintop breathed new life into me and I'm ready to get back to the work at hand.

I'm grateful to Mother Nature for a beautiful Wednesday, even if it's the calm before the apocalypse. I hope She lets me summit a few more High Peaks before she wipes us out. Or, better yet, She gives us another chance.

December 8 - Dharma (The Path)

Wandering can be good for the over-focused creative. How did you wander well this year?

Come, come, whoever you are. Wanderer, worshiper, lover of leaving. It doesn't matter. Ours is not a caravan of despair. Come, even if you have broken your vows a thousand times. Come, yet again, come.

~Rumi

Today's reverb11 question wandered around my head all day. Wandering, like Rumi calls for in my favorite quote, is my heart's truest desire. To leave my calendar and my to-do list behind and go off on an adventure, even a small one, appeals to me. I am not a world-traveler. I have no desire to sit in an airplane seat. I just want to walk away into the woods with a backpack and a journal.

Did I wander this year? Every Wednesday this summer my young son and I put our journals in our backpacks and hiked up a mountain. Step by step we explored the Adirondacks. Each week's journey changed us and our parent-child relationship. He started third grade a more confident kid, proud of his summer accomplishments. We had long talks on the trail and he still talks to me now, telling me about school and third grade girls and books he's read.

I vowed to continue hiking in the fall, but the start of the school year always seems to dampen the desire to wander. School days require a more domestic focus; clean clothes, lunches and homework take up time. But the trails will be there when I wish to wander again. Come, yet again, come.

Someday I would like to try the ultimate wander on the East Coast - the Appalachian Trail. Now that would be wandering well.

History

During the 1950s, the shores of Schroon Lake, NY were graced by world-class resorts, including the Leland House, the Ondawa and the Edgewater, on whose land my parents' house now sits. Perhaps the most spectacular and well-known resort was Scaroon Manor. The 327-acre site in South Schroon featured a golf course, tennis courts, a beautiful shoreline and an amphitheater. The 1957 film Marjorie Morningstar, starring Gene Kelly and Natalie Wood, was filmed at Scaroon Manor. During the filming Schroon Lake was enjoyed by the cast and crew, and especially by Robert Wagner, who was there only to advance the romance between himself and Miss Wood and had many idle hours while she was on the set. Less than a decade after the movie was made, after a couple of unprofitable seasons in the hands of new owners, the hotel's land was sold to New York State.

The once elegant buildings were demolished and, for many years, the land was left idle. The golf course is now designated wetlands and nature has long since reclaimed the tennis courts. All that is left of the grand hotel is the stone shell of the amphitheater. For almost 50 years the site was open to the public, or at least anyone who was willing to boat around the remains of the concrete docks to reach the beach, or make their way through the brambles from the road.

Trips to "Marjorie Morningstar", as we called the place, are part of my memories of summer vacations at Schroon Lake. We would beach the boat and scramble up what was left of the paths in search of blackberries, which grew wild. We would climb onto the remains of the amphitheater and dance and sing for the adults. For us kids, that amphitheater was a magical place, as if the spirit of Natalie Wood was still there, inspiring even the shyest among us to perform.

Recently, the state has decided to use the land, and has gotten busy clearing pathways, paving parking lots, and building picnic shelters and restrooms. The state also constructed a little building near the entrance, where employees can sit and collect money for day-use fees. Still under construction are additional facilities and campsites. I've heard that the state plans to open Scaroon Manor for camping, to replace campsites lost at the soon-to-be-closed Eagle Point Campground, where overuse has led to serious erosion and loss of vegetation.

Thanks to the state, boating in with the kids to let them run and explore like we did has become expensive. (Someone is watching the new boat docks to collect those fees.) During the summer, all we can do is look at the beach from the water as we go by. At the end of the season, however, the state workers pack up and go home, and the locals park outside the locked gate and walk in.

Today we took the dogs and walked the old hotel grounds. My son performed in the amphitheater, which still has it's magic. On a quiet path we let the dogs off their leashes and they took off running - into the lake, down the path, into the creek, up the path again and back into the creek. They enjoyed their own little piece of doggie heaven, oblivious to how cold the water must have been. The dogs were so happy that they forgot how badly they usually listen. They came when we called them, sat still as we put their leashes back on, and walked like well-trained show dogs back to the car. (I wonder if Natalie Wood had a dog.)

Scaroon Manor park is a nice place for a short walk every now and then, although I miss the untended ruins from my childhood memories. The blackberries are gone; their thorny vines were probably deemed unsafe. The paths are a bit too groomed and there is too much pavement to really satisfy my desire to explore the wilds of the Adirondacks. The brown vinyl-sided restrooms can't replace the resort that once flourished on the shore, but perhaps the state will restore the amphitheater one day, keeping the spirit of Marjorie Morningstar alive to inspire another generation.