A New Year

A new year will soon be upon us.

I don't make resolutions (I never stick with them), but there are a few things that I will try to do in 2020: This is my list of things I hope to achieve in the new year:

• Become more proficient at using Landscape Pro to edit my landscape photos.
• Learn more about using Lightroom photo editing software.
• Continue to travel
• Do more photography
• Spend more time outdoors
• Reconnect with family 

There are still many things I want to do, and so many places to visit, some for the first time, some for a second or third time. I have a full travel schedule every year, but somehow I never seem to make headway on my wish list. I keep discovering new locations, new countries. As long as I remain healthy and travel remains enjoyable, I still plan to hit the road several times each year.

This year has been one of mixed results. I visited Africa again with friends from the UK. I achieved a childhood dream of visiting Egypt. I got to visit Yosemite National Park on a photography excursion. I went to the re-emerging country of Colombia. On the down side, my eye issues continue. My daughter stopped talking to me to avoid inflicting more hurt. And my little dog Bailey died suddenly and unexpectedly.

Here's to a better, brighter, kinder 2020.

Year-End Update

Another year of this blog is coming to a close.

The year 2019 saw readers in Argentina, Bangladesh, Belgium, Brazil, Canada, Chile, China, Colombia, Cyprus, Egypt, Finland, France, Germany, India, Indonesia, Ireland, Israel, Italy, Lithuania, Luxembourg, Mexico, Netherlands, Norway, Portugal, Romania, Russia, Singapore, South Korea, Spain, Sweden, Switzerland, Ukraine, UAE and the United Kingdom. That's 34 different countries, not counting the US.

I don't get feedback from people in countries other than the US, although I would welcome it. I am always interested in hearing the opinions and thoughts of those in other countries. How did you find this blog? Are you a regular reader or just once in a while? Which blog subjects do you most enjoy reading about? Are there any subjects you would like to see more often?

If you enjoy reading this blog, feel share it with others and invite them to sign up as followers. I don't send out spam. The only e-mails followers receive is a notification when a new post has been released.

Thanks for following along, and Happy New Year!

Just Another Day

It's just another day.

Today is Christmas, and for me, it is just another day. No family or friends are coming to visit. My adult daughter decided to cut off communication with me to, as she said, spare me any more pain due to her bad life choices. Other family members, for reasons unknown, have no contact with me. 

So this over-hyped, overrated holiday is just another day. Because I need something to eat, I made a slow cooker full of beef stew, and some cornbread. I have been listening to some of my Christmas CDs. But there are no decorations in the house, no tree in the corner, no fudge, no cookies baking in the oven. I'm missing my little dog Bailey more than ever since her sudden death last September. The weather matches my mood: gray, foggy, cold and drizzly. 

I will do some charitable donations later today, but even that seems like more of an obligation than something I used to enjoy. 

More and more, Christmas seems like a fake holiday. It's so commercialized and phony. The schmaltzy Hallmark movies. The fake camaraderie, the smiling families who can't stand to be together the rest of the year, the never-ending push to buy "the perfect gift." The reindeer, the snowmen, even Santa Claus is a corruption of an actual person. Even the date is fake. We simply don't know when the Christ child was born. Some believe the birth happened in the spring, or maybe it was during summer. There is a lot of speculation as to why Christmas is celebrated on December 25, but nothing can be proven. In any event, it was well into the fourth century before December 25 became the 'official' birthday of Christ.

The bottom line, of course, is that it doesn't really matter when the baby Jesus was born. If you're a Christian believer, the date of birth is irrelevant. What is important is to remember the teachings of Jesus: kindness to others, loving others as yourself, forgiveness, sharing with the less fortunate. Santa Claus, cookies, trees and all other fake parts of the celebration are not important. Many of these traditions actually are pagan in origin. There was a real man named Nicholas of Myra who was sainted. He did leave bags of gold coins for the poor father of several daughters who were unable to marry because their father had no money for a dowry. Nicholas lived in the ancient Greek maritime city of Myra in Asia Minor (in what is now Turkey) and he was an early Christian bishop during the time of the Roman Empire. He died in 343 A.D.

What is important, whether you are Christian or not, is how we treat people, how we live our lives, how we treat animals, and how we care for the Earth. Attending a church service once a year is not important.

I haven't been inside a church except as a visitor in another country for decades. I don't profess any specific denomination. Yet I think I live a good life. I am kind, and I donate a considerable amount of money to several charitable organizations every year. I sell custom photo calendars, with all proceeds going to charity.

So I don't need the schmaltzy movies, the pressure to buy "the perfect gift," or the stress of the holidays. I don't need to attend church. Not everyone has caring, supportive families. Some people spend Christmas alone, by choice or by circumstance. I prefer to focus more on the meanings and lessons of the season, and less on the phony trappings.

Merry Christmas and happy holidays to all, regardless of how you celebrate (or don't).

Missing Bailey

Today is Christmas Eve, and I woke up with tears in my eyes.

Today I really feel the loss of Bailey, my little 14-pound ball of attitude. Bailey died very suddenly and unexpectedly on Sept. 23. She seemed happy and healthy all day, until she refused her dinner. Then she had trouble standing up, got a glazed look in her eyes, and finally started panting heavily. My veterinary clinic was closed by then, so I took her to another animal hospital a few miles away. By the time I carried her inside, her body was limp. The veterinary staff tried CPR and an injection of epinephrine to restart her heart, but nothing worked. She was gone. Bailey was 12-1/2 years old. Her sister, Layla, still lives with me, along with another dog, Benny, a golden retriever/corgi.  

Bailey and her sister came to live with me when they were 7-1/2 years old, when their human mom had health problems that kept her from taking care of them. We stay in touch from time to time, and I text her photos and updates about the dogs. 

I always described Bailey as a little dog with a big attitude. And she never would have won the Miss Congeniality award. She didn't care for men, or for other dogs. But after I started rewarding any good behavior she showed with small treats, her attitude improved significantly. Bailey never was an easy dog, and there were times when I questioned why I had agreed to adopt the little munchkins.  

Bailey had a playful side. Sometimes she wanted me to play with her, and sometimes she and Benny would play for a few minutes. I always referred to Layla as the fun cop, as she has never been very playful and seemed not to like seeing the other dogs playing.

But this ball of fur wormed her way into my heart. And I believe that she waited to die until I returned from a trip. She was happy to see me, gave me lots of kisses during the ride home, and died that same day. 

I hope she is now happy and well at the Rainbow Bridge, probably bossing around some of the other dogs and snoozing in the grass on a warm, sunny day.

Merry Christmas, Bailey.

Christmas Doesn't Come From A Store

Maybe it's me, but the Christmas spirit seems to be lacking this year.

It certainly is lacking in my household. I haven't mailed Christmas cards for several years. I'm doing no holiday baking. I set out no decorations, I didn't put up my small LED tree, and I didn't even hang a wreath on the front door. And it was just yesterday that I decided to start listening to some of my 50 or so CDs of Christmas music. 

It seems I'm not the only person to feel this way. I noticed that far fewer houses in my neighborhood have festive lights this year. The post office during my visits to two different branches had no lines just a few days before Christmas.

Certainly Christmas has become overly commercialized, with stores setting up holiday displays in August. The push to spend, spend, spend starts a full four months before the actual holiday. 

Christmas also has become sanitized. Rather than the wonderful smell of a freshly cut pine tree, we find a plastic tree made in China in the corner of the living room. We don't even have the fun of decorating the tree with the family, opting instead for a pre-decorated, pre-lit tree. I remember turning a real tree around so the place where the branches were a bit thin was at the back. Now, plastic trees are all perfectly proportioned, if sterile.

Most of the ornaments I would hang on the tree had some meaning, from being given to me by a family member or bought during one of my trips abroad. Now, people decorate their trees with cookie-cutter ornaments, made in China, that all look the same.  

What about holiday baking? I used to make a 3-pound batch of fudge every year, along with at least four kinds of cookies. Last year I think I made two kinds of cookies. This year I'm making none. I guess most people just buy their holiday treats pre-made by someone else.

Christmas parties have become 'winter' parties, or 'holiday' parties, out of fear of offending some individuals or groups or people. Christmas break in schools has become the 'winter' break. 

I remember putting in real effort to find an appropriate gift for siblings and parents. These days, people order something online from Amazon.com. Gift cards and cash often are the quick-and-easy gifts of choice. Shopping like that is easy, but it lacks the personal touch.

Fewer Americans attend church on a regular basis. But more than this, I think the lack of holiday spirit is fueled by the discord, the hatred, the deep divisions and the worry about the future of our country. Family members don't speak to each other over political differences. Friendships have ended for the same reason. 

Christmas has become so much more than a religious celebration. In fact, the religious aspect has been lost for the most part, a trend that has been going on for many years. And that's OK, because this season should embody feelings of love, of goodwill, of kindness and of warmth, regardless of one's religious beliefs (or lack of). I used to work with a Jewish woman who celebrated the non-religious aspects of Christmas.

That old-fashioned Christmas feeling shouldn't be limited to just a single day or couple of weeks. Forget the Black Friday, Cyber Monday and Super Saturday madness. We don't need to stress over finding "the perfect gift" or facing the throngs at the mall. We can take control of the holiday and celebrate it how we choose, whether that means going to church on Christmas Eve or giving homemade cookies or other items as gifts. We don't need to spend ourselves into deep debt to prove we love someone.

I enjoy buying gifts for friends whenever I see something I think they would like. For a couple of friends, that means giving them bags of coffee beans from the different countries I visit. I recently returned from Colombia with four bags of coffee beans grown on a plantation I visited. I visited the place where the roasting is done, followed by a visit to the small shop on the plaza that sells cups of coffee as well as bags of coffee beans. So far some of these friends have experienced coffee directly from six or seven countries I have visited. I don't wait for Christmas. And I don't stress over finding "the perfect gift" for them in December. I show that I care about them throughout the year.

Christmas doesn't come from a store. It doesn't come from spending tons of money we can't afford to spend on things people may not want or need. It doesn't come from spending ourselves into debt. It doesn't come from seeing who gets the most gifts, or the most expensive gifts. It doesn't come from giving one's spouse a $60,000 luxury car.

The spirit of Christmas should come from within us, and it should be within us throughout the year. Let's work on taking back this holiday, and all holidays, and spending them in a way that is meaningful to us. Let's show our love of family and friends by spending time with them, by talking to distant friends on the phone, by cooking a special meal for them. 

Remember this quote from the Dr. Seuss book "How the Grinch Stole Christmas": And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before. What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.

Trying to Be a Better Person

I am trying to be a better, kinder person.

This has nothing to do with the holidays. Quite simply, I'm fed up with the hatred, anger, rudeness, hostility and general lack of civility of this country. I'm tired of reading about abuse of animals and children. I'm tired of hearing about attacks on those who were born elsewhere, on those whose skin isn't white, and on those who aren't old, white men. I'm tired of rude people and screaming politicians and those who put self-interest above the common good.

Perhaps if more of us make an effort to spread a bit of kindness, we can make the world a better place in which to live. We may not change the world, but maybe we can spread a bit of happiness in our small corner. I cannot, and I will not, stand by and watch the world deteriorate around me without at least trying to make it a better place.

So even when I don't feel particularly friendly, I try to wave or smile or chat with someone I don't know. I try to let a very talkative neighbor go on at length despite my wanting to get home from my walk. I try to let someone with only a few items go ahead of me in the checkout line. I try to remain patient when the person in line ahead of me takes forever to check out as she fumbles through her coupons.

Why do I say "I try" to do these things? Because I'm not always successful. Sometimes my shyness keeps me from reaching out. Sometimes I just want to be done with the task at hand and move on. But I am trying to do better. Recently I bought a soft drink for a member of the group with which I was traveling in Colombia. She offered to pay for it, but it was only a couple of dollars. I gave some change to a handicapped man in a wheelchair sitting at the entrance to a church in Colombia. I gave an extra large tip to the waitress in Colombia, although tipping isn't common or expected in that country. 

I was reminded of a discussion some of my travel companions had at lunch about how fortunate we are to be able to afford to travel, when so many people are struggling to afford life's necessities. So giving a large tip or giving some change to a handicapped person seemed the right thing to do, not just in Colombia, but everywhere.

I don't mention these examples because I want praise. I mention them only as examples of how doing even small things can go a long way to brighten someone's day. Doing better, being kinder and more gentle, doesn't take a great deal of effort. Something as small as picking up an extra can of soup for the local food bank, or giving some change to someone less fortunate, is actually quite simple. There isn't a big economic cost attached to these things. And our actions, such as holding a door for someone or letting someone go ahead of us in line, costs us nothing but perhaps bit of our time.

Whatever I do to help others also helps me. I feel good about being a nice person, and sometimes, a simple act of kindness makes me feel less stressed or worried. We never know what obstacles or challenges others may be facing. And just maybe our small act of kindness makes a difference in that person's day. Maybe it will, if even for a while, lift their spirits. Maybe being generous to citizens of another country will help counteract some of the negative feelings those in some countries have about America and Americans. 

And maybe it will make us feel better as well. Being kind and compassionate have been shown to increase our sense of well-being. It also reduces stress, strengthens our immune system, and helps reduce anger, anxiety, depression and other negative emotions. 

So during these long, cold days of winter, when people are more stressed than usual, let's try being nicer than usual. Maybe being nice will become a trend. And wouldn't that be nice?

Not a Time to Celebrate

It has finally happened. The House of Representatives voted to impeach the president of the United States for obstruction of Congress and for abuse of power.

Although I believe this action is warranted, this is not a time for celebration. Indeed, it is a sad day for our country that the president has so trampled on the Constitution that the House felt compelled to impeach him. The framers of our constitution deliberately set up three branches of government -- executive, judicial and legislative -- to prevent any one branch from seizing control of the government. The current president has repeatedly tried to do just that -- seize increasing amounts of power for himself. His continuing attacks on judges who rule against him, and on members of Congress whose words and/or actions displease him, leave no doubt that he would be a dictator if actions are not taken to stop him. He has even publicly questioned whether peaceful protests should be allowed, something the Constitution explicitly allows. But Trump doesn't understand, nor does he care about, the Constitution.

The vote on the first charge -- abuse of power -- was 230 to 197. On the second charge -- obstruction of Congress -- the vote was 229 to 198. Due to some vacant seats, the totals do not add up to the expected 435.

I really like this tweet by conservative Washington Post columnist Jennifer Rubin: “The gap in character and intellect between the two parties is stunning.” That gap has been on full display during the entire impeachment process. And how dare a Republican member of Congress compare the cheating, lying, bullying Trump to Jesus facing crucifixion! If this isn't a cult, I don't know what is!

While members of the Republican party have steadfastly tried to defend his actions, none of them has been able to factually refute what he has done. Instead, they attack the process of impeachment even though the process is the same one the Republicans used to impeach President Bill Clinton in 1998. And let's look at the crimes for which Clinton and Trump were impeached. Clinton was impeached for lying to Congress about his sexual affair with an intern. Trump was impeached for trying to pressure a foreign government (Ukraine) to dig up dirt on one of his political opponents (Joe Biden). He also publicly called for Russia and China to interfere in our elections. One offense is a bit more serious than the other, but the Republicans don't think so.

So while I am glad that the president has finally been held accountable for his actions (something that rarely, if ever, happens), I cannot celebrate. As long as he remains in office, he will continue his tweetstorms, his insults, his lies and his deflections. His handler, Vladimir Putin of Russia, will continue to benefit from Trump's ineptness and his beneficence. And America's democracy will continue to be at risk.

Skipping the Christmas Hoopla

Maybe it's a sign of old age. Maybe it's the incessant ads screaming about "the perfect gift." Maybe it's the fact that I have no family with which to celebrate Christmas. Maybe it's the fact that the push to spend, spend, spend now starts in August.

But this year, more than ever, I just don't care about Christmas. As I got older and had more trouble controlling my weight, I greatly reduced the amount of baking I do. Gone are the days when I would bake several kinds of cookies, along with a 3-pound batch of fudge. I stopped sending out Christmas cards a few years ago. I gave away my large artificial tree this year, along with a bunch of lights and ornaments. My family stopped exchanging gifts years ago because everybody has everything they need, and if they want something, they just buy it themselves.

I do enjoy buying special things for others if I find something I know they will like. For example, I mailed a few items (special tea, coffee beans, honey from Quebec) to a friend a couple of weeks ago. The package was stolen from her mailbox by some slimy cretin before she could retrieve it. I'm sure the lowlife thief will really enjoy some English tea!

I doubt that I will do any decorating at all. I have some items that I usually set out, but this year I'd bet they will remain in boxes in the garage. Even my 40-50 CDs of Christmas music hold no appeal this year. I know I won't prepare a special meal. Even donating to my favorite charities -- organizations that I have supported for several years and that do wonderful work in their respective areas -- doesn't appeal to me. I have a list of charities to which I want to donate some money, but so far I've given to only one of them. These groups don't demand more and more money as some do, with never-ending appeals for money. And I know the money is well spent. But donating, which used to make me feel good, doesn't hold the same appeal any more. I did donate two bags of food to the local food bank last month, but that's all I have done.

Christmas is more and more just another day. So for this year at least, I think I'll just skip all the hoopla and enjoy a quiet day at home with my dogs.

I Am Done with Thanksgiving

I think I'm done with Thanksgiving.

Well, not with the holiday, but with preparing mounds of food. This year I bought an 11-pound smoked turkey. All I had to do was heat it for a couple of hours, and prepare some side dishes.

I had planned to have the big meal for lunch, but rather than turkey, I fixed a pizza. The turkey didn't get cooked until early evening. None of the side dishes got prepared. Even the fresh green beans I had steamed a couple of days previously remained in the refrigerator. Once dinner was over, I cut the meat off the turkey, put the carcass (or as much as would fit) into my slow cooker to make some stock, and washed the dishes that couldn't go into the dish washer. 

Gone are the days when I would make stuffing, gravy and mashed potatoes from scratch. Gravy now comes in a jar, stuffing in a box and mashed potatoes in another box. I don't prepare or buy a dessert either. Cooking for one isn't worth the effort any more. 

A few of my online friends commented that they went out for their Thanksgiving meal, or got burgers to go. I'm not much of a burger person, but I think next year I will scout out some local restaurants that are open on Thanksgiving. Or maybe I will attend the free Thanksgiving meal provided by a local food pantry. I volunteered at the pantry for a couple of years, and I enjoyed working a shift as a server at the holiday meal on two occasions. It's open to everyone -- the homeless, those who don't want to or who are unable to cook, anybody who is alone on Thanksgiving. So that is a possibility. Or maybe I will go away for the holiday to someplace warm.

I'm not, of course, giving up on the idea of counting my blessings and being thankful for all I have. Those are things that should be part of our lives every day. Thanksgiving has lost so much of its uniqueness over the years. Now it is little more than a speed bump during the mad rush to find "the perfect gift."

So just maybe the time has come to give up on the idea of cooking a lot of food just for myself. Several years ago, I drastically reduced the amount of baking I do for the holidays. Since I retired, I have no one at work with whom to share the fudge and several kinds of cookies I used to make. And I haven't prepared a big meal for Christmas day for a few years.

I refuse to subject myself to hordes of pushing, shoving, noisy people at the mall as they search for "the perfect gift." I pick up things for a friend in another state as I come across them during the year, but otherwise I have no one for whom to shop. So I focus on the real spirit of the season, of donating to those less fortunate. And of course, I continue to enjoy listening to my close to 50 CDs of Christmas music.  

We'll see how I feel about cooking next Thanksgiving, but after so many years I think it's time to simplify the day and focus instead on feeling grateful for what I have.

Be Thankful and Be Happy

As we in the United States prepare to celebrate Thanksgiving, please remember that "Gratitude turns what we have into enough."

So I wish you enough. Enough love. Enough warmth. Enough joy. Enough friendship. Enough challenges (but not too many). Enough opportunities. Enough successes. Enough failures to keep you humble.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

Finding Your Something

This is an updated version of a post from 2018. I think it is still very relevant.

I once read a Facebook post from someone who is passionate about animal rescue.

He encouraged people to, in his words, "find your something."  He mentioned groups of people who have found their something by making cat toys, blankets for dogs and cats in shelters, and coats for animals. An online friend has found her something by knitting beautiful, soft blankets for cats waiting in her local animal shelter to be adopted. A group of photographers found its something by taking quality pictures of animals available for adoption to make them look their best to potential adopters who view them online. One photographer creates beautiful images of children in foster care awaiting adoption. A musician I know has used her talents to draw attention to -- and donations for -- the homeless in her city.

The author encouraged individuals to find their something -- whatever it may be -- that will allow them to help in a way that is meaningful to them. Not everybody can pull animals from animal shelters to be sent to rescue groups. But nearly everyone has a skill that can be put to use helping a wide array of non-profit organizations. 

Some organizations need people with legal skills, or who can handle their accounting needs. Can you walk dogs to give them a short break from their kennels? Can you work with undersocialized animals so they become more comfortable around people? Can you help rehabilitate orphaned or injured wildlife? Perhaps you can organize a pet food drive where you work, or in your family. Sometimes children will ask that guests to their birthday party bring donations of pet food for a local shelter, rather than gifts for the birthday boy or girl. And there is always a need for foster homes to care for animals until they are adopted.

You might also find your something in helping other people. A friend in Texas worked as a court advocate for children in foster care. Maybe you can provide a much-needed break for someone caring for an elderly relative. Can you hold a holiday food drive to collect non-perishable food items for a local food bank or pantry? Collect gently used coats, gloves, boots and hats to donate to a homeless shelter? How about a toy drive for Toys for Tots so underprivileged kids can enjoy a nice Christmas? Maybe you would like to volunteer at a food pantry. I did that on a weekly basis for two years, and it was extremely rewarding. Another online friend finds great joy in painting rocks with a variety of characters and hiding them for kids to find. The local food bank offers volunteer opportunities of as little as 3 hours, with no long-term commitment. A couple in my neighborhood frequently walks the streets picking up discarded cans, bottles and other trash. The possibilities are endless, and you can surely find something that fits your abilities, interests and available time.

When I lived in Houston, I belonged to a church that had a Christians in Action group that performed acts of charity for those in the community who were struggling. People were invited to 'adopt' a family in need and purchase items, including an aluminum roasting pan, for a complete Thanksgiving dinner. We did something similar for Christmas. Anybody in the church who wanted to participate was asked to take a wish list off a tree and purchase the item/s for that person. I remember how good it felt to buy these items, knowing they would brighten the holiday for a family or individual child. Fortunately, the church made it easy for us to "find our something."

My something now is photography. Not only does it bring me great joy, but all the proceeds from sales of my calendars and prints are donated to the Elephant Crisis Fund to help protect the elephants that are so important to me. Helping elephants is my something. Serving as an occasional volunteer photographer for local animal rescue groups is my something as well.

It's a great feeling when we find our special something, regardless of what we do to help. Each of us has a talent or a passion. It's up to us to find that something and put it to good use. 

What something can you put to work in service to others?

A Nation Divided

Abraham Lincoln once famously said, "A nation divided against itself cannot stand."

These seven words have seldom had greater importance than at the current time in our country's history. I have been around for more than six decades, and never have I seen this country as divided as it is now. Just think about it. America is divided over the economy, race, gender, and a variety of social issues. Can and will this country overcome these vast divides and come together again for the survival of the nation? Only time will tell.

We have, of course, Republicans versus Democrats.

But we also have

• liberals vs conservatives 
• urban vs rural 
• red states vs blue states
• straight vs gay 
• rich (the 1 percent) vs middle class and poor 
• white men against those who threaten their longstanding dominion, i.e., women and minorities
• those who believe in science vs science deniers 
• climate change believers vs deniers 
• Christian fundamentalists vs those who believe in separation of church and state
• gun law reform advocates vs Second Amendment apologists
• pro-life vs pro-choice advocates
• men vs women
• baby boomers vs millennials

First, let me make clear that not all of the individuals in a given population feel/think/act/vote the same as other members of that group. There are, for example, straight people (the majority, I venture) who feel that members of the LGBTQ community should have the same rights as straight people. Similarly, not everyone who lives in the South shares the same political feelings, or opposes gun law reform or is an evangelical.

What concerns me, in addition to the massive polarization of the country, are attempts by some to force their beliefs on others. If you're an evangelical Christian, great! But don't try to force the rest of us to live according to your beliefs. You don't like it when radical Muslims impose their beliefs on others, so why do you think it's OK for you to try to force me to live according to your beliefs?

The same argument can be made for either side in any debate. You live your life, and let the rest of us live ours. America is not, and never has been, a Christian country. It was founded to allow its citizens freedom to practice whichever religions they choose. Yes, this country traditionally has had a Christian majority, but we are not a Christian country. We have freedom of religion, but we also should have freedom from religion. There should be no state-sponsored religion, a point about which our founding fathers felt strongly enough to include it in the US Constitution.

There seems to be little effort being put forth to try to find compromise or middle ground among both politicians and everyday citizens. Compromise is an absolute for people living in a society. Why are baby boomers and millenials sniping at each other? Both groups have much to offer this country, from their experiences to their youthful energy and ideas. Name calling and insults seem to be the order of the day. And it certainly doesn't help when the president of the United States engages in a steady stream of daily insults and name calling.

I am hopeful, but not optimistic, that our citizens and politicians will come to their senses and work together to find common ground. We  as a nation have many issues that deserve our attention. Fighting with each other will not help solve them. We must ask ourselves how we have reached this point in our history. How have we sunk so low that partisan politics and a growing divide have brought us to the brink of destroying our nation? And just as important, what are we going to do about it?

A Nation of Whiners

When did the United States become such a nation of whiners?

The biggest whiner of all, of course, is the current occupant of the White House. He is constantly whining that this person or that person is unfair to him, or the news media is unfair, or a court decision is unfair. Or he complains that somebody was 'mean' to him. Without a doubt, he has the best whines, the biggest whines. No president in history has ever had better whines. What is he, four years old?

But public whining seems to have become the national pasttime. Two companies (Beyond Meat and Impossible Foods) have recently started marketing plant-based burgers and sausages. I really like the Beyond Burgers (I haven't had a chance to try the Impossible Burgers yet). I'm not vegan, or even vegetarian, but I do my best to avoid eating meat from any four-footed animal. So I was thrilled when the Beyond Burger hit the market. Sometimes I feel like having a burger, but I have resisted. (Knowing that eating a bunch of beef will give me a stomach ache makes resistance even easier). Now I can cook a Beyond Burger, eat half of one, and not feel guilty ... or sick.

But what do I see in online comments about these revolutionary foods? Comments that they're too expensive. They aren't available in some small town in the US or Canada. Why aren't they available in Luxembourg or Costa Rica? Why isn't there a low-sodium version? A low carb version? A keto version? A kosher version? An oil- or pepper-free version? A gluten-free option? In short, why isn't there something to satisfy the dietary demands of each and every person?

Most ridiculous of all are those who whine that the buns served with the restaurant burgers aren't vegan. The cheese isn't vegan. The burgers are cooked on the same grill used to cook regular beef burgers so they aren't really vegan. The company that produces the plant-based burgers doesn't control the type of buns or cheese served by the restaurants that sell these non-meat foods. Nor does it control how or where they are cooked. But by all means, whine away!

How about people support these companies for coming up with products that are cruelty free and closer in taste, texture and appearance to beef burgers than anything else on the market? And plant-based products are better for the environment, too. I guess it's just easier to whine.

Whining can become a habit, a very unattractive habit, in a short amount of time. We all whine on occasion, but let's try to check ourselves whenever we feel a whine coming on, OK? The world will be a much happier place if we do.

For me, when I read all these whiny comments, I am sorely tempted to respond with "Waah! Waah! Waah!"

Getting Old

Am I old?

That's the question I asked myself recently. Mentally, I don't feel old. I still feel mentally sharp. I'm engaged with the world around me. I travel several times every year, including trips overseas. I keep up to date with current events. I recently started to learn a new photo editing program, and there is another, more complex program I am working on. I read 30 books or more every year. I use Facebook regularly, I have an online photography shop, and until I deactivated them, I had both Instagram and Twitter accounts.

Physically, I admit to some health issues such as bursitis in both hips (something I've had for 20+ years), osteoporosis, and vision issues in one eye. But otherwise, I'm in good health. I'm not obese. I don't need supplemental oxygen. I don't need a walker, a cane or a wheelchair to get around. I'm not diabetic. I walk 3 to 5 miles every day. My blood pressure is excellent. Yes, my hair is totally gray, but so what? I could have my hair colored if I didn't want gray hair. But it looks good on me, so it will stay gray. I'm not as thin as I once was, and I'm trying to drop a few pounds. But it's not a major issue.

And what defines 'old' anyway? Age is just a number. What is considered old varies from person to person and from culture to culture. The definition of 'old' has changed over the years in the United States as well.

When I was a young adult, my parents seemed old to me when they were in their late 40s. As I approached that age, being 40-something no longer seemed old. Today, I admire 'senior citizens' who remain active and engaged. On a trip to Costa Rica a few years ago, I was surprised to see a woman and her 80-something year old mother who had recently recovered from a broken leg. She wasn't able to do some of the walks, but she was there, she was engaged and she was having a good time with her daughter. My physician's mother, 87 years old at the time, fell and broke her hip while chopping wood on a winter day. 

Some people are old in their 40s. Others continue to be active into their 80s and beyond. There is no government chart that says that one is old at age 55 or 60 or 70. We all age differently, depending on genetics, the environment in which we live, health issues and how we take care of ourselves.

Loss of mobility and independence often are used to define when someone becomes 'old.' But there was a woman in my father's assisted living facility who was probably in her late 40s-early 50s. I didn't consider her old, but she had some health challenges and she chose to live in assisted living. Our definition of what it means to be old is an ever-changing target. Yes, I get stiff after sitting for a while. I have arthritis in my hands. Both of those things are more common in people of a certain age. But I'm not yet ready for the rocking chair or the nursing home. I take care of my house and my yard. I shovel snow (fortunately a rare thing where I live). I pull weeds and I rake leaves. I take care of multiple dogs.

I am a firm believer in the adage 'use it or lose it.' I believe that my lifetime of physical activity (33+ years of running every day), hiking (although less strenuous ones than before), and daily walking, along with my efforts to keep my brain engaged, both are contributing to my good health. My family has a history of Alzheimer's disease, so I am more committed than ever to doing whatever I can to minimize the risk of contracting that horrible disease.

So yeah, I guess I am old in a chronological sense. I have some age-related physical signs. But my mind is still sharp. I certainly don't feel old. And I think that's the biggest part of getting old.

Dear Charities

It's November, and that means the onslaught has beung of appeals for donations from countless charities.

So charities, if I haven't donated to you before,

• Save your donors' money and stop sending me notepads, calendars and address labels.  
• Don't include a nickel or a dime and tell me that I can save the world for only % cents/day.
• If I donated to you 25 years ago but not since then, stop hitting me up for money. Mercy Corps, I'm talking about you.
•  If I let my "membership" expire years ago and didn't renew it, stop sending me 'reminders' to renew. Sierra Club, this means you.
• I don't want your crappy gifts. Use your donors' money for the purpose you claim to need money for. 
• Don't bother including tearful stories about little kids with cancer or animals in distress. I already have several charities to which I donate generously every year, and your sappy pleas for funds won't work.
• I already have enough address labels to last me five lifetimes. The same goes for note pads.
• I make my own calendars using my photographs, so anything you send me goes directly into the recycling bin. 
• I decided long ago to donate more money to a small number of organizations, rather than just a few dollars to lots of charities. 

One reason I refuse to donate to new organizations is that I don't want to receive still more e-mail and snail mail demands for funds. I also don't want my information sold/rented/traded to other non-profits so they, too, can hit me up for money.

So if you really are in such desperate need of funds, how about using what you do have wisely? Stop printing and mailing unwanted items to potential donors, and use your donors' money to support the causes you claim to support.

Regrets

Everybody, I'm sure, has regrets in life.

My sister-in-law and nephew recently climbed to the summit of Tanzania's Mount Kilimanjaro, at 19,341 feet the highest point in Africa. I regret that I will never get to do that.

Kilimanjaro

I'm simply too old. Although I exercise regularly, and I live at about 5,300 feet elevation, my muscles just don't have the strength they once had. 

The same goes for visiting Machu Picchu and Cinque Terre. And I don't see myself trekking through the jungles of Uganda in search of a family of gorillas, either. The strength just isn't there for a lot of climbing. I regret waiting so long to plan to go on these adventures.

I've done other things that require a decent amount of physical strength and endurance. I ran the San Francisco Marathon (26.2 miles) in 1984, finishing in a respectable time. I walked 60 miles over three days to raise money for breast cancer research. I did a 10-mile hike in Joshua Tree National Park two years ago. I have ridden 60 miles on my bicycle on a single day, a few times. I ran 3 miles or more six or seven days a week for more than 30 years. So I have never been a couch potato.

But climbing Mount Kilimanjaro? Not likely. I love visiting Africa (I've been there 10 times so far), and climbing this mountain would be wonderful. In addition to the physical challenges, my vision isn't what it used to be. So I will have to admire the mountain from afar. I was lucky to be able to see and photograph the mountain on a rare day when it wasn't enveloped in clouds. That will have to suffice.

I got to visit Egypt this year, and I'm going to Greece next year, so I am working through my list of places I have always wanted to visit. Italy, Iceland and Australia remain on the list. I try to visit one or two places from my wish list each year. 

I have other regrets, too, of course, but those are not for public discussion. No life is perfect. We all make mistakes. We all wish we could go back in time and do things differently. All I can do is try to live my life so when it ends, there are as few regrets as possible. I'm not going to give up having adventures, but it's important to know my limitations.

We don't know how much time we have left, so get out there and live your life so when it is over, you have as few regrets as possible.

A Picture Is Worth 1,000 Words

What do you see when you look at this image?

The photo is quite simple: a single strand of barbed wire. A brick wall with a light fixture and a sign with a number on it. Four simple elements. The focus in on the strand of wire, which is why the background is deliberately out of focus but still discernible.

I generally photograph landscapes and wildlife, things of beauty. I seldom write a post focused on a single photograph, especially one that isn't breathtaking in its beauty. People enjoy looking at gorgeous scenery and impressive wild animals. Barbed wire? Not so much.

But I wanted to share this image taken during a recent trip to Poland. This single strand of barbed wire (there were others above and below it) is part of a fence within the original Auschwitz concentration camp. The brick wall is part of Block 23, a former Polish army barracks converted, along with many others, to become a prison. Block 23 was one of several buildings that held Soviet prisoners of war. The vast majority of these prisoners died of starvation or disease.

I like this photograph for its stark simplicity. Its four elements tell a story, of imprisonment and cruelty and death. Is there any doubt about the story the image tells nearly 80 years after the end of the war? 

"A picture is worth a thousand words" goes an old adage. I think this image is worth a lot more than 1,000 words. It speaks to torture, cruelty, imprisonment, starvation, death on a mass scale, hatred, inhumanity, sadism, and so many more of man's basest actions.

I took more than 1,500 images during my time at both the Auschwitz main camp and at the nearby, and much larger, Auschwitz-Birkenau camp. I think this photo is one of the handful that really represents the horror of the Nazi effort to exterminate those they considered to be undesirable and sub-human.

Please let me know your reaction to this image. I shared this image as my 'photo of the day' on my Facebook photography page, and it received very little attention. Apparently people aren't interested in seeing a photograph that doesn't show a cute animal or a beautiful nature scene. Frustrating.

An Apology

Dear World,

On behalf of the majority of Americans, I want to apologize for the unhinged, crazy, greedy, uneducated, boorish, vile, selfish, uninformed, heartless, lying behavior of the person occupying the White House. 

I apologize to our Kurdish allies for our leaving them to be slaughtered by Turkey, with the tacit approval of the so-called leader of the free world. I apologize for the many times (too many to count) he has insulted the leaders of other countries, particularly those countries that have long been this country's allies (Germany, the UK, Canada, France, Mexico and Australia come to mind. I am sure there are others.) I apologize for his more than 12,000 lies, with more added every day.

I apologize to the Hispanics, Jews, Muslims, blacks and others he has insulted. I apologize to the women and girls he has insulted and assaulted. I apologize to the businesses he has refused to pay for their work. I apologize to the countries he insulted by calling them "shit hole countries."  I apologize to the family and friends of the late Sen. John McCain for the insulting way this five-time draft dodger spoke about a genuine war hero. I apologize to the migrant families whose children were taken from them at the border, locked in cages and kept there without showers, toothbrushes, and other basic hygiene items. I apologize to the residents of Puerto Rico, who are, after all, American citizens, for the complete lack of concern and compassion shown to them. I apologize to the family of the Muslim American soldier who died in defense of the United States, for the insults to which you were subjected because of your religion.

I apologize to the people of the world for his actions to undo a variety of environmental protections, including those that help protect our water, air and endangered species. I apologize for America's withdrawal from the nuclear treaty with Iran, the Paris climate accord, and other agreements on which this country has reneged. America's word is now worthless. Why would any nation trust us again? The orange menace has proven, repeatedly, that America's word is worthless.

I apologize for his myriad racist, sexist comments. I apologize for his name-calling and for the insults hurled at everyone who dares to disagree with him. I apologize for his ongoing insults to four women of color, all of them US citizens and all of them members of Congress. I apologize for his ignorance, his incessant bragging about himself, and for his refusal to listen to people who actually know what they are talking about. Finally, I apologize that so many millions of people in this country remain gullible enough to believe his lies and support his racism and misogyny. 

What I will not do is apologize for fighting against this petulant man-child, for opposing his hateful words and actions, and for doing my best to let others know the very real threat he presents not just to the United States, but to the world.

A Short Gratitude List

 I think it's time to start working on a new gratitude list.

I did one a few years ago, but I haven't gone back to look at it for a number of years. As I'm getting older (aren't we all?), I have begun to think more about the things in my life for which I am grateful. And under the circumstances facing America with the dictator-in-chief and his cronies in Congress hell bent on turning this country into a fascist state, a gratitude list seems more appropriate than ever.

For my previous list, I set myself a goal of coming up with 100 things for which I am grateful. I'm not going to do that this time. Instead, I'm just going to make a list of things as they come to mind.

• Rain. I live in the high desert of New Mexico. After several years of drought in this normally arid state, we have been blessed this year with a fair amount of rain. Just a few days ago, I was listening to the wonderful sound of rain on the skylights.
• Travel. I have been to more than two dozen countries in the past few years. Each of them taught me something; each of them has left me with some wonderful memories. I have made new friends, including some who live in other countries, as a result of my travels.
• Education.  I saw a post on Facebook about a young girl in Kenya who was able to enroll in high school and go on to college because of the scholarship sponsored by a couple from another country. That story made me realize again how fortunate we in the United States are to have a system of free public education. I know there are kids whose families can't afford to provide them all the clothes and school supplies they need each year. And our public schools have lots of problems. But I have yet to see an American school without electricity and running water, no supplies, no lights, only a handful of textbooks, no place for the kids to eat their lunch other than sitting on the ground outside, and trying to learn in a room with dirt floors. And yet the children in Kenya are excited to learn. I am now sponsoring the high school education of a girl in rural Kenya.
• My good health. Although I have arthritis in my hands and osteoporosis in my lower spine and hip, I am otherwise in excellent shape. 
• Food. Unlike people in much of the world, including here in New Mexico, I have always been able to afford to buy food. 
• My house. I am fortunate to have a lovely home with gorgeous views of the mountains. 
• Excellent medical care. Over the past 2 years, I have needed multiple eye surgeries to repair torn and detached retinas in both eyes. Although Albuquerque isn't known for its excellent medical care, there is a group of amazing ophthalmologists here. I have had eye surgery by four of them. I am so grateful that these skilled doctors are available to save my sight.  
• Financial security. I have enough money to allow me to live comfortably, pay my bills, and look forward to a secure future.
• Good friends. I don't have a lot of friends, but those I do have are wonderful.
• Giving back. I have the desire and the means to give to those less fortunate. From donating money to a variety of charities to collecting food to support local food banks, I am blessed to be able to give. And I am glad that I was raised with a spirit of giving.
• Photography. I am grateful that I have the talent, the desire and the means to take part in photography, and to share my talent with others. 
• New Mexico sunshine and gorgeous blue skies 300+ days every year.
• The love and devotion of my dogs.

This is a short list of 13 items for which I am grateful. I think making a gratitude list is a good exercise that makes me/us aware of the positive things in our lives. And thinking about positive things can make our outlook on life more positive. Studies have shown that people who feel thankful are happier. I take happiness wherever I can find it.

And with the world as it is today, we need all the happiness we can get. So, what are you grateful for today?

What I Would Like To Do

You know what I would like to do? I would like to live my perfect life.

In a perfect world, this is what my life would look like. I would

• live in a cozy cabin in the woods (but not too isolated, and with modern conveniences).
• spend hours every day reading.
• spend lots of time hiking with my dogs.
• travel the world pursuing my passion for photography.
• listen to music -- classical and smooth jazz -- to keep me relaxed. 
• minimize exposure to the news 
• have a small shop to sell my photographs, calendars, etc.
• live part of each year in a different country
• do more writing and get more followers of this blog

 Some of these items are a reality now, but to a lesser extent than I would like. I do spend a lot of time reading every day. I travel six to eight times each year, with some trips being devoted to photography. I listen to classical music regularly. I have cut back on how much news I watch. 

I'm not sure I will ever live part of each year in another country, and I'm not likely to have a shop where I can sell my calendars, photos, etc. And I'm not likely to move permanently to a cozy cabin in the woods. But maybe I can rent one for a few days or a week, just for my dogs and me.

What are the things you want to do to make your life happier or more meaningful?

The Red Shoes of Auschwitz

During my most recent time (several days) at the main Auschwitz concentration camp in Poland, I saw, heard and experienced many disturbing things.

I walked through the cold, dark 'Death Barracks' where female prisoners deemed too ill to work were warehoused until executed in a gas chamber. I saw the field where the ashes of countless people remain buried after their bodies were burned outside when the crematorium broke. I saw the cell where prisoners were kept until they starved to death. I walked past the building where heinous experiments were carried out on Jewish women. I entered one of the gas chambers and walked past the ovens. 

Then there were the glass-fronted display rooms that housed all sorts of  brushes, suitcases, eyeglasses, pots and pans, artificial limbs, even human hair. But of all these macabre items, it was the shoes that had the greatest impact on me this time, as a couple of years ago. Yes, the shoes. Ordinary, everyday shoes in the styles of the 1940s.

Why the shoes? I wondered. But think about it. Aside from the eyeglasses, shoes are perhaps the most personal of the items taken from the prisoners, nearly all of them Jewish. Their clothes were laundered and sent to Germany for use by the wartime civilian population. Most shoes were sent to Germany as well. But some shoes remained in the camp, perhaps at the end of the war when the Nazis realized they were losing the war and running out of time. Some shoes were given to prisoners, but without regard to size or practicality. Some received two left shoes, for example. Most prisoners were forced to wear wooden clogs.

When Auschwitz was liberated by Soviet soldiers on Jan. 27, 1945, the camp held some 43,000 pairs of shoes. Let that sink in. More than 43,000 pairs of shoes, each pair representing a human life. There are shoes of all sizes, all kinds and all styles. 

Most are brown. Most are well worn. But among the thousands of brown shoes on display, I spotted two red shoes, of different styles. Their color made them stand out from the rest. And so I began to wonder, Who was the person who once wore these shoes? Where did she live? What was her name, her story? How old was she? Did she perish immediately, or did she die later of starvation or disease? Did she die along with other members of her family? These are questions whose answers will never be known.

Despite never being able to know anything about the wearer of these red shoes, I feel a certain connection to her. In my mind, I see her as young, fun-loving, perhaps somewhat bold, and certainly full of life. 

Few physical items are more personal than the shoes people wore. Shoes take on the shape of the feet that wear them every day. They are chosen by the people who wear them, whether for comfort, style or color. Each of these 43,000 pairs of shoes, and countless uncounted millions of other shoes, were removed from the feet of people imprisoned and doomed to death because of who they were. It doesn't matter whether the people were Polish political prisoners, Roma, Soviet prisoners of war, Jews or homosexuals. All were rounded up, stripped of possessions and their identities, and murdered simply because one group of evil people decided they must die.

Piles of shoes in Auschwitz and other death camps served several purposes. They were a reminder to the Nazis of the success of their ongoing efforts to cleanse the Nazi empire of anyone and everyone not 'Aryan' enough. They provided shoes for German civilians. And they served as reminders to those still imprisoned that they, too, would soon join those whose shoes were part of a huge pile of items taken from people who no longer needed them.

I don't plan to return to Auschwitz again, having visited the camps twice. But I don't think I ever will forget the red shoes and wonder about the person who once wore them.

It's About Doing, Not Having

The older I get, the more I believe this statement. It isn’t about having, it’s about doing. 

It's about experiences. It's about giving. It's about helping. It isn't about buying.

Material things just aren’t that important to me. Yes, I live in a nice house and I drive a nice car. But the things that make me happiest are the experiences I get to enjoy through my travels and through my photography. And I like to help others.

I have worked for the past two years, off and on, to get rid of things from my house. I have given away to a local thrift shop clothes, shoes, tons of CDs and household goods. I also have given numerous books to an organization that uses the funds from the sale of these books to support our local public library. I gave two unused suitcases, a large artificial Christmas tree and boxes of lights and ornaments, as well as a couple of coats, to a shelter for victims of domestic abuse. And yet, despite all this, I still have a lot of 'stuff' in my house. So the process of getting rid of things continues.

And I don't miss any of the things I have given away. My house still looks the same, although a couple of book shelves are noticeably less crowded. My closets remain filled with clothing and shoes. But now I think twice before buying anything. Do I really need that item? Will I actually use it? Do I already have something that will serve the same purpose? Do I need it, or do I merely want it?

So rather than accumulating more items, I much prefer to do other things with my money. I travel a lot. I donate to charity. Recently I helped my daughter with a down payment on a car after hers was stolen and trashed beyond repair. All those things bring me much more pleasure than does buying something I don't really need. 

I recently returned from a 12-day trip to Berlin and Poland to learn about the Holocaust. Part of the trip was a service project at the original Auschwitz concentration camp. I joined our trip leader and 11 others in raking leaves, sweeping sidewalks, inspecting portable exhibits for damage, and checking the language on the permanent displays. The wording had been translated from Polish, and we, as native speakers of English, were asked to review and make note of any incorrect or awkward word usage, punctuation errors, etc.

A few members of my group noted that some friends had asked them why they were taking this trip, and especially why they were doing a service project for which they had to pay. "Who would pay to go to Auschwitz and work?" was the sentiment. But each person in the group saw far beyond the cost of this trip. We saw it as an opportunity to learn about a horrendous time in history, and to contribute in some small way to preserving the memory of the victims. And perhaps by sharing out experiences with others, we can make some small contribution to ensuring that another genocide doesn't happen. 

I love the experience of travel to other countries. For some, it may be taking trips with the family, or spending a day with the grandkids. Experiences don't have to involve spending a lot of money. Volunteering, taking a neighbor who doesn't drive to go grocery shopping, helping a friend with a project -- all of these experiences can make meaningful memories. When you're on your death bed, will you recall how big your house was, or what a fancy car you drove? Or will you reflect on the experiences you had and the memories you made?

It's doing, not having, that is so important. I hope Americans will remember that, especially now that the ever-earlier 'holiday season' is upon us. The garish displays of Christmas merchandise appear earlier every year, urging consumers to spend, spend, spend. If you must spend, how about putting your money into experiences rather than the latest gadget or toys the manufacturers tell you and you kids you absolutely must have?

The Machinery of Murder

I recently returned from an intense 12-day trip to Berlin and Oswiecim, Poland.

You say you've never heard of Oswiecim? Perhaps you know it better by its German name of Auschwitz. I went with 11 other people on a tour to learn about the origins of the so-called 'final solution to the Jewish question,' and to see and learn about the places where mass crimes against humanity took place. The trip was developed by Road Scholar and led by a German political scientist who has spent years educating people about the Holocaust and the conditions that gave rise to it. 

I have struggled to find the right words to describe this trip. As a writer, I love finding just the right words to express myself. I enjoy manipulating language to convey the proper feelings. But this is different. It's quite difficult. And I think it will continue to be impossible to find the right words to adequately describe the experience and the reality. Several of us in the group talked about struggling to find the right words. This trip was intense. It was surreal. it was impossible to understand the why and the how. 

Despite the impossibility of finding the right words, and knowing that only those who have spent time at Auschwitz will understand, here are some of my thoughts. I jotted down some thoughts each evening after dinner as I tried to retain the experiences while they were still fresh. With so much information thrown at us, and so many surreal experiences, it was difficult to process everything. So I took a few notes.

Each aspect of this trip showed us just a tiny fraction of what the more than 1 million people who were killed in Auschwitz went through. It also showed us a bit about the life of the large Jewish population in Germany and Poland before the war. 

This was a physically and emotionally exhausting trip. Days were sometimes 12 hours long. There was a lot of walking and a lot of standing. Our trip began in Berlin, where we spent 2- 1/2 days visiting a variety of sites and memorials. We visited the Brandenburg Gate and the

Reichstag, and we saw some of the many 'stumbling stones', brass squares engraved with the name, date of deportation and, if known, date of death, of Jews who lived in a given house and subsequently were sent to death by the Nazis. 
 
We saw the main Berlin synagogue that was seriously damaged during Nazi attacks in November 1938, as well as other buildings that played a prominent role in Berlin Jewish life before the war. Sadly, the synagogue must still be protected by two police officers to safeguard it from vandalism.

We visited the memorial to the murdered Jews of Europe, as well as memorials to homosexuals and to the Roma and Sinti (Gypsies) who fell victims to the Nazis. One of the most touching places I visited was the Wannsee conference center where 15 members of the Third Reich got together one day in January 1942 on the shores of the lake to decide how to implement their so-called final solution. They put in place concrete plans to rid Europe of all Jews, as well as homosexuals, those with physical or mental disabilities, and the Roma (Gypsies). After that they enjoyed a hearty breakfast while gazing over the lake.

We spent time in private exploration of the Topography of Terror museum, built on the site of the former Gestapo and SS headquarters. But the place that touched me most was track 17, the train track in Berlin from which Jews were shipped off to Auschwitz, Bergen-Belsen and other concentration camps. The tracks are no longer used, of course, but the short section that remains is marked on both sides with metal plaques indicating the date, the number of

Jews deported that day and to which camp they were shipped from Berlin. Perhaps most unsettling of all was hearing trains at the nearby, still functioning train station. Trains leaving from track 17 carried some 50,000 German Jews to their deaths.

Leaving Berlin, we took an 8-hour bus ride to the Polish town of Oswiecim, infamous for its most well known landmark, the Auschwitz concentration camp. One morning, we toured the old city of Oswiecim on foot. This city of some 40,000 inhabitants once was home to a thriving Jewish population. Today, not one person of the Jewish faith lives there. Most were exterminated during the war. Survivors, understandably, don’t want to live there. The only remaining synagogue is used only for special occasions by Jews from nearby towns. 
 
Our lodging was a former Carmelite monastery now known as the Center for Dialogue and Prayer. The rooms were simple and small, but comfortable. Meals were served family style, and consisted of typical Polish food, usually soup, cabbage salad, potatoes and pork or chicken. It was plain and simple food, yet as I ate, I recalled the watery soup fed to the prisoners in the camp and their near-starvation diet. 

The lodgings provided a wonderful respite from the emotional stresses of our time in Oswiecim. Staying in a fancy hotel would have been so inappropriate. Even the center's name encouraged us to engage in discussions and to reflect on what we saw and experienced each day. And at the end of an emotionally and sometimes physically exhausting day, I looked forward to returning to my room, a hot shower and some solitude. Our lodging wasn't totally devoid of comfort, however, as we could get a bottle of Coke, a latte, ice cream or a candy bar.

On the first full day in Poland, I went for a walk around the monastery grounds at 6:30 a.m.

The outside temperature was 43°F, and the sky was foggy. The weather seemed to reflect the somber nature of our visit. Somehow, a bright and sunny morning just wouldn't have seemed right. As I was enjoying the early morning solitude and fresh air, I heard a train whistle, a sound that this morning gave me chills as I thought of those innocent souls who were brought to their death on trains. And as I walked in the chill and fog, dressed warmly in a long sleeve shirt, long pants and a down jacket, my thoughts turned to those who endured freezing cold winters in Auschwitz without benefit of warm clothes or shoes, and who returned from 12 hours of back-breaking work to unheated barracks.

Several mornings after breakfast, we walked to the main Auschwitz camp for a morning of work or study. The walk was less than a mile each direction, but I think it gave each of us some very tiny experience of what the prisoners must have endured as they walked and ran every where. I felt that walking made me feel more like a participant in the entire experience rather than as a mere observer. Some days, we walked back to the camp after lunch. Walking was for me a meaningful part of the experience. Rather than arriving in a bus as most visitors did, we walked across some of the railroad tracks and saw some of the many buildings that still stand as stark, cold reminders of the Nazi horrors.

The appearance of the main camp, with its tidy brick buildings, is deceiving. It looks like a small village, with streets neatly laid out. The reality, of course, is far more sinister. Auschwitz is anything but a neat Polish village. The famous sign at the main gate, with its proclamation that "Arbeit Macht Frei" (Work will make you free), was a chilling introduction to the camp, marking the place where countless people walked to their deaths. We passed the spot where the prisoner orchestra played as new arrivals entered the camp, and where the bodies of those who were killed while trying to escape were displayed as a warning to others. 

We had a 4-hour, in-depth tour of the original camp, Auschwitz 1, led by a Polish guide who provided an amazing wealth of information. Auschwitz is a state museum, and it feels like a museum. It covers 49 acres. Despite the atrocities that took place there, I don't feel that I got a real sense of the horrors and reality of life and death in Auschwitz 1. Yes, I saw displays filled with eyeglasses, suitcases, shoes, brushes and even human hair. For some reason, the collection of thousands of shoes got to me, as it did the first time I visited Auschwitz a few years ago. My eyes were drawn to the two red shoes in the case among thousands of brown shoes. People -- now brutally murdered -- once wore these shoes. The human connection was very real. But I felt detached from the realities of this place whose name will always be synonymous with cruelty, torture and death on a mass scale.

I saw the basement 'standing cells' where prisoners were forced to stand up. There were four standing cells at Auschwitz in the basement of Block (Building) 11, each of which measured about 1 square yard. Four prisoners were crammed into each tiny space that forced them to stand, with only a 2-inch opening for air. I also saw the starvation cell, where prisoners were held without food until they died. Block 11, with its narrow corridors and dark cells in the basement, truly was a house of horrors. Another tidy brick building was the scene of horrific experiments on woman, most of them Jewish. I saw displays of empty cans that once held pellets of Zyklon B, the pesticide used in the mass killings in gas chambers. I saw a display of the gray pellets themselves. Auschwitz 1 also housed SS headquarters. The camp initially held Polish political prisoners and Soviet military prisoners, part of the Nazi plan to exterminate Slavs, whom they viewed as sub-human. Later it and its sister camp, Auschwitz-Birkenau, held primarily Jewish prisoners.

Despite knowing about and seeing these horror chambers and exhibits, I feel that the camp on the outside seems too neat and tidy. It's hard for my mind to imagine the torture, the starvation, the cruelty and the mass murder that took place there. At the back of the camp, just beyond the electric fencing and several guard towers, stands the house once occupied by Rudolf Hoess, the commandant of Auschwitz who was hanged for his crimes. It is occupied to this day, complete with a satellite dish on the side of the house. I cannot imagine how anyone can bear to live there.

During the trip, I certainly was struck by the immensity of the suffering and death, but strangely, I didn't have a strong emotional response. I was very tired, yes, both physically and emotionally, and overwhelmed, but I was surprised by my muted reaction to what I saw, experienced and learned.   


Perhaps one reason for my lack of a visceral response was due to the fact that the brick barracks are not what most people envision when they think of concentration camps. The first time I visited Auschwitz, I expected to see the wooden barracks shown in many documentaries about Auschwitz. This, in part, made it difficult to imagine and comprehend the true horrors of this camp. The double electric fences and numerous guard towers, however, did give an idea of the true nature of the camp. Perhaps the human brain simply has trouble comprehending such cruelty and death on an unprecedented scale.

Seeing the rooms in the brick buildings (known as blocks) crowded with wooden bunk beds gave a pretty good idea of the awful conditions in which prisoners were kept. Some groups of tourists were noisy, chatting away and laughing. The group I was with, however, was silent and solemn as we toured the various buildings and learned of the horrors they had held.

The following day our Polish guide led us on a 4-1/2 hour tour of Auschwitz 2 Birkenau, the huge expansion camp about 2 miles away from the original. This camp covers 423 acres and has 360 barracks, 60 of them brick and the remainder made of wood. It had four crematoria and could house 92,000 prisoners.

Standing outside the main gate, looking at the tracks where the trains entered the camp, I tried to imagine how frightened and exhausted the new arrivals must have felt. They had no way of knowing what lay ahead. Perhaps that was a good thing. But of course, my imagination fell far short of their reality.

We first viewed the camp from the big guard tower at the main gate, gazing down on the massive prison. We then stood near a train car, frozen on the tracks with the doors closed. I looked at long rows of barbed wire, electric fences and countless brick buildings destroyed by the fleeing Nazis attempting to cover up their crimes. We walked the route prisoners took as they went either to the gas chambers or to barracks where they would be worked or starved to death. We walked most of the acreage and visited sites most visitors don't see, including a lush, green field of grass that holds the ashes of countless bodies cremated outside when the nearby crematorium V stopped working. This camp truly was a house of horrors on a massive scale. The overcast skies, and eventual rain and falling darkness, only added to my sense of foreboding.

One building holds displays of photographs prisoners had with them when they were 'processed' and sent to their deaths. Some show smiling couples, families, children and individuals. They were ordinary people condemned to death simply because they were deemed different, inferior, sub-human.

The final stop at Birkenau was known as the death barrack, for the two buildings housed women deemed unfit by the SS for further work. These women awaited death in the gas chambers without food, water or medical care, perhaps for several days. When the barrack was full, additional prisoners were kept outside in a locked yard. There is no electricity in these buildings, so it was nearly impossible to see the crowded barrack and stacked wooden bunks in the falling darkness. Some visitors used light from their cell phones to provide the only illumination. The building has a stove, but there was no wood with which to provide heat during the cold, cold winters.

The next day we returned to Auschwitz I. My group spent about an hour one day and 90 minutes the following day raking leaves and sweeping a small portion of Auschwitz 1. These very mundane and seemingly small tasks were our little contribution to maintaining the grounds at this very special place. It also, I think, enhanced our understanding of what it was like to live here. But we had proper clothing. We all had shoes that were appropriate and that fit. We had no concerns about being beaten or shot if we didn’t work quickly enough or hard enough. And unlike the prisoners, we were able to leave and return to our lodgings for a good lunch. Everyone in our group pitched in to help others. We took pride in our simple work. And we were happy to contribute in some very small way to the museum.

I think each of us felt this personal contribution to the museum. My back was sore after the first day of sweeping and raking, but my discomfort was nothing when compared with the suffering of the prisoners. Physical labor, something most of us weren't used to, put things into a new perspective. We also spent time on other days checking portable displays for signs of damage or wear and tear, and inspecting permanent exhibits for spelling or grammatical errors in the text that had been translated from Polish into English.

In the evenings, we had a debriefing session to ask questions, present our thoughts about what we saw that day, and respond to questions from our German leader. His questions were thought-provoking, to say the least.

We also got to hear from a member of the archive staff who showed us some of the documents (letters and Nazi forms) both original and photocopied produced during the war. The Nazis were consummate record keepers, a task carried out by slave labor under the direction of the Nazi overlords. But only those prisoners not sent directly to the gas chambers were registered, so no record remains for the vast majority of those who passed through the gates of Auschwitz and Birkenau. 

We got to see a special exhibit of art produced at great risk by prisoners and by survivors, as well as getting a tour of the facilities where work is ongoing to preserve the thousands of artifacts from the camp. Everything from baskets to some 3,500 leather suitcases

to toothbrushes and enamelware are being carefully preserved. Sitting next to a box of toothbrushes that once belonged to prisoners, and realizing the very personal nature of these items, was chilling.

We had a couple of hours of free time on the last day, to revisit exhibits, take photographs or just be present among the ghosts of  Auschwitz. I took advantage of the nice weather to wander the camp one last time, taking photographs that I hoped would capture the horrors of this evil place. This also gave me a chance to be alone with my thoughts. The people in my group are wonderful

The wall where the SS shot prisoners.

people, but sometimes I needed to be alone.

Auschwitz is so much more than just a stop on a tour of Poland, or a day trip from nearby Krakow. The first time I was there a few years ago, I visited both Auschwitz 1 and Auschwitz 2 Birkenau in a single day. There was so much I didn’t get to see and experience. 

Auschwitz is so much more than simply a a collection of buildings, guard towers, electric fences and mass killing facilities. It deserves to be visited with enough time to truly understand its horrors. What members of my group struggled with, and that still remains unanswered, is how this could happen.

This trip was very physically tiring due to the long days, lots of walking (more than 7 miles a couple of days), as well as the emotional and intellectual toll it took. But as one member of the group noted, our feelings of hunger, our sense of feeling tired or sore or cold, are nothing. 
   
As I prepared to leave Auschwitz 1 for the last time, after spending many hours there, I paid a final visit to the crematorium. There were few people inside, so I was able to offer a final, quiet tribute to the victims of the Nazi killing machine. I wanted to say something to the ghosts of all those murdered by the supposed superior race, to let them know that they have not been forgotten. But all I could whisper was "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

The crematorium and gas chamber at Auschwitz I.