Ground Squirrels and Airplanes

            The church has a pear orchard in Medford, Oregon.  Each year the church donates the pears to the food bank and those on welfare (see here)  The Roseburg stake (church boundary that I belong to) has asked its members to pick pears at least once a year.  Our assigned day is usually the third Saturday in August.  This is the fifth year that we (our family) have gone to pick pears for a service project.

            Each year we have tried to stay for more than a couple of hours.  Each year our health has prevented either Roland or I from wanting to continue.  The last two years were so filled with smoke, it was hard to breathe.  Last year I had filled my bag only half way before I’d make the long trek to the pear bin.  

I used to be in better shape.  I vaguely remember telling a couple that I would watch their kids if she would like to go and didn’t think about it again until Friday night. Oops!

taken last year

            My back was bothering me earlier on Friday morning.  I decided that I wouldn’t even wear a pear bag but just place my pears in either Roland’s or Jenna’s bag or perhaps even the missionaries who we had taken with us (and fed them as well). But Roland made it known that I was having back problems and I was assigned to do another job that was perhaps as equally important but I felt useless in my position.

            Volunteers were asked to stay on one side of the orchard and continue their climb until they were directed to turn, but volunteers were turning before they crossed the creek – which is where they put me – so I could direct people.  Trouble was that by the time they put me there, there were less volunteers checking in at the bottom and so I really didn’t have much to do except for sit there.  Yes.  They let me sit.  So that was a plus.  But I also really did wish to help pick pears.

            I figured the van could pick up passengers and drop them off and make its way around the orchard in just five minutes.  But it no longer came as often nor held as many passengers.  I think it passed me only five or six times before Roland and Jenna found me.  I did see the tractor with fork lifts on each end with the ability to lift two bins.   Odd.  I remember the tractor dragging a larger number of bins than just two.  I saw something similar to this my first two years:

not actual, but you get the gist

            This is what I saw this year:

  

not actual, but you get the gist

            We had left the house at four in the morning and I’m not fully awake at that time.  I did not have a jacket or a hat that would cover my ears.  Roland had asked if I needed my glasses, but I’d be wearing sunglasses and not reading.  Right next to my glasses was my watch.  I wish I would have grabbed it.

I was dressed for the heat and was cold and did not know where I was direction wise (I knew the location of east, north, west and south when I was living in Salt Lake, but have lost that since being in Oregon) and did not know which way was east.  Apparently behind me.  I saw the shadows move and purposely moved my chair into the sun (which is rare.  I am usually always looking for shade.)

            I had a beautiful view.  I looked at the moon which appeared like a perfectly circled cloud – slowly it faded into the background until it disappeared.  

The sky was never blue like the middle indicates;
the moon looked pretty much like in the middle
but kept on fading as the morning light shone.

My view reminded me a lot of seeing Salt Lake City from one mountain range to another – except for the foreground.  It was quiet.  It was pretty.  The sky was blue.  It wasn’t blue the last two years we had gone.  I had no idea how close the pear orchard is to the airport or to the temple, but could make out both in the distance.

my view from the red dot

            I think I heard the airplanes before I saw any of them.  I would watch a few of them as they headed west or northwest.  I would watch until they disappeared.  I didn’t see any from the south at all, but I could hear them. I saw a few seem increase in size as they made their way toward landing.

            Aside from counting planes, I counted ground squirrels after I noticed some movement across the creek.  

I also saw a confused bee frustrated at not finding pollen in the grass.  I hoped the orange vest I was wearing wouldn’t somehow attract the bee.