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Originally posted on RED POWER MEDIA:

US Marines from the second batailion 8th MAR enter in the city of Nasaryha in the south of Iraq, 23 march 2003 as  there are fightings with Iraqi army. PHOTO ERIC FEFERBERG. US Marines from the second batailion 8th MAR enter in the city of Nasaryha in the south of Iraq, 23 march 2003 as there are fightings with Iraqi army. PHOTO ERIC FEFERBERG.

By Black Powder | Red Power Media

Specialist Lori Ann Piestewa, (December 14, 1979 – March 23, 2003) was a U.S. Army Quartermaster Corps soldier killed in action during Operation Iraqi Freedom. A member of the Hopi tribe, Piestewa was the first Native American woman in history to die in combat while serving with the U.S. military and the first woman in the U.S. armed forces killed in the 2003 invasion of Iraq.

Piestewa, a 23-year-old from Tuba City on the Navajo Reservation, died after her convoy took a wrong turn and was ambushed near Nasiriyah. Some of the members of 507th Maintenance Company, including her best friend Jessica Lynch, were taken prisoner; others died.

The ensuing attack…

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Originally posted on :

We are in Florida preparing to cross the Atlantic enroute to Europe and then on to a self driving safari in South Africa.
I thought you’d like to see some amazing flora & fauna we saw in Florida!
Pretty amazing critters!
We will be subject to intermittent and dicey internet for the next two weeks while at sea,
so it will be impossible to follow your blogs.
I will check in when I can and try to fire off a pic or two of events enroute.
Uploading and editing are impossible,

so posts go “as is!”
Will touch base when I can.
Be well and,

cheers to you from the beautiful flora and fauna in Ft. Lauderdale and The Butterfly World!

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Originally posted on leaf and twig:

the world
leafs out and blossoms
answering all lingering
winter prayers

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Originally posted on Art, animals, and the earth:


By Shakuntala and Debashish Majumdar, Thane SPCA

Two consignments of 540 Indian Soft Shelled Turtles (Nilssonia Gangetica)  and Spotted Pond Turtles ( Geoclemys Hamiltonii ) were seized by the Mumbai International Airport Air Intelligence Unit. All these Schedule 1 species of turtles were handed over to the Maharashtra Forest Department. The smuggling of these turtles was done in a very cruel manner, which involved packing them in zipper bags, then wrapping them in plastic bags and taping them with transparent adhesive tapes. Various wildlife offences were lodged with the jurisdictional magistrates. The judiciary then accorded its permission to release the seized wildlife in its natural environs in the respective cases.

3. RAWW volunteers cleaning Turtle Tank

Thane SPCA and RAWW (Resqink Association for Wildlife Welfare) started coordinating with the Forest Department from the very first hour of seizing the turtles, with logistical help. While RAWW assisted in the physical distribution of the turtles at Dahanu and…

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The story of a wonderful lesson learned…

Originally posted on Dancing in the Tao:

Charles Eisenstein shares this soaring story from a friend of his in Australia. This is what it looks like when we re-connect with ourselves, with each other, with the Earth herself, and with the mysterious Source of the miraculous Everything:

When I first moved to Byron Bay 22 years ago, I was friendly with a ‘mob’ of activists that ran the world’s first successful forest protest. There were strange ideas in the community about conservation which I have now resolved but at the time were intriguing. The ‘us versus them’ played out with all its polarities and dynamics and even though there were victories, the ‘beast’ seemed relentless, well funded and had all manner of social , legal and political levers to tilt the playing field. I have come to realize that if one is an activist and has an emotional investment in an outcome then the challenge is against oneself and it is impossible to…

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By Suzanne Cordrey


I was invited to travel with a friend who is one of the “guardians” of the most ancient rock art paintings in the United States. I had no idea what I was going to see nor that it even existed when I just felt that old familiar pull from within that said “Go with her.”


Truth be told, I have not been to many places in Texas since I moved here. The only thing I knew was that we were headed for the Mexican border. Lots of emotion around that, since Texas has had such a big influx of illegals, including lots of children on trains from all over central America.  Such heartbreak, trauma, families torn apart, and such divisive opinions amongst the people here. We had been told that the cabin we were to stay in had been broken into by illegals just a couple of weeks ago. Feeling’ real safe about hearing that!


So Melinda and I packed up and headed down to a place called Seminole Canyon where all this awesome rock art lives. To Melinda, it is like her spiritual home. She was born and raised mostly by a single mom in eastern Texas. It amazes me to see how all of us can have such humble beginnings and still end up shining our spiritual light into the world. Now she is an RN, an acupuncturist, and I met her at a tai chi class that she reaches. She lives just up the road from me.


All I know is that we are heading south, through the wildflower covered fields of the hill country, and I watched as the scenery changed into thick bushy mesquite trees and cactus, albeit blooming cacti.  Ocotillo, prickly pear, acacia bushes, lechuguilla, all enriching the high desert plateau of western Texas.  Towns like Boerne, Uvalde, Del Rio flashed by on green road signs as I enjoyed the feeling of the changing ecology. Soon we came upon a large body of water.. What? Here? It is a man made reservoir called Lake Amistad. Bridges arching gracefully over fingers of clear blue water, leading off into what looks like nowhere. One road just ended right into the water; got flooded out after the dam closed. And there was an incident a couple of years ago where an American was shot while riding his Ski-doo in the Lake by someone on the Mexican side. His wife saw him fall and went to his rescue but couldn’t l save him and he drowned. I’m surprised she wasn’t shot. The International border is in the center of the lake but who knows where. Prickles of Weirdness creep up my spine.



But Melinda is full of excitement and begins to weave a web of magic about how the rock art we are about to see was found in the 1930s and about the long process of acquiring the land and regulating the caves where the murals are painted. We drive past the reservoir and unlock a gate, bounce over a couple miles of dirt track and the cabin comes into view. It sits on the edge of a cliff overlooking the lower Pecos River, which looks huge there because it is running into Lake Amistad and backs up there. Gorgeous!. The cabin is empty, we bring everything including our own water. Primitive but screened in and has a stove. I’m cool with that.


Desert birds fill the evening skies with song, a pair of blue herons fly in harmony in the late day breeze and greet us with a flyby over the cabin. I had a hidden agenda in that I wanted to see the night skies, clear and unobstructed from the sweet oak trees that drape over my little cabin in Wimberley. Big night sky and Jupiter, Venus and Mercury were all present for the big reveal which made my heart beat with joy.



Early morning and we hike down into the canyon to see the White Shaman. The ancients here made this area their home around 3500 years ago. Long before the Anasazis inhabited the Four Corners area. No one knows who these people were, but skeletal remains have been used to replicate faces and they have been honored in bronze statues here. The theory about the White Shaman mural that I can relate to is that they used peyote and datura plants, which are represented in the paintings, fell into an altered state and saw beyond their third dimensional lives. They left recordings of traveling into the “otherworld” and instructions on how to do it. It reminds me of the Egyptian hieroglyphs and their meaningful journeys. And both cultures would be overlapping in time. I always thought that streams of consciousness wove through civilizations, just waiting for people to become aware of them. In the White Shaman mural, there is much symbology of the number 5, and there are 5 shamans standing in line, with a white shaman emerging from the body of the center shaman.


We spent a couple of hours musing over the figures, then turned our attention to the canyon behind us that we had just climbed down into. A peaceful, private, lush green canyon with a crazy canyon wren singing his laughing song to us, and a beautiful painted bunting, one of the most brilliantly colored songbirds in the US, sat in full view for us to admire him.  I could have died right then and there. Then, I almost did. As we left the cave and climbed up the steep narrow pathway that was littered with crumbled limestone, out of nowhere, I slipped and fell. Reaching out to grab something, I impailed my arm on a dead twig. I had to lift it off the branch and one look told me that it was deep. Melinda went into nurse mode, wrapping it up and as soon as I fought off the shock of it all, we hiked up to the rope and I had to use that arm to pull myself up the slick rock hand over hand to get up to the edge of the canyon. All the way to the car we went back and forth abut whether to seek urgent care or wait three days to get help. The winning course of action was to drive into Del Rio and get it stitched up and get antibiotics for infection. It was just too damn deep. Well, that took care of a whole afternoon. But I wasn’t willing to return home. It was just my forearm, after all.



Melinda had to guide a tour on Saturday, so I stayed at the cabin and let the pain pills float me into a lovely time warp that lasted all day. I had no idea what time it was, and let my spirit soar free as I looked out over the Pecos river and read the books Melinda brought about the history of the rock art in the area. Birds sang, herons circled together below, the wind blew, keeping it cool and the sky played the most magic picture show of soft, soaring clouds and then a brilliant orange sunset . That evening another guide from the rock art foundation showed up, lit a fire in the pit, and told his tales of life as it is for him since he moved there. He, too, is smitten with the rock art, like it has beckoned to its spiritual family to come and protect it and these people have felt so drawn to be there. I recognize that calling, as I too, was called to go to Macchu Picchu years ago. Maybe these people were the ones who painted the pictures on the walls of the caves. Who knows? I smile at the Bigger Picture that we are all drawn into. Nothing is as it seems. Nothing.


Our last day there lured us over the Seminole Canyon State Park, where another mural called Fate Bell is accessible. Larger tours go there and it is much easier to get to. Meaning that over the years, it has been plundered a bit. But a particular guide that is very knowledgeable was giving his last tour and Melinda was eager to hear him. He is young and his wife is not as enamored with the vast western desert and it’s lack of amenities as he is. So they are moving. The tour was very powerful with many cosmic signs that I recognized as spirit on the move through us all.  The young man spoke of the connection of the ancients with the modern day Huichols of northern Mexico and how so many of the ceremonial rituals are alike. He thinks the Huichols are the decendants of this culture and that the peyote ceremonies are practices in many of the same ways.  And it is all written on the walls of these caves. There are 123 known cave murals in Texas and no one knows how many are on the Mexican side.  It is too dangerous to travel over there at this time, but someday in future, when peace spreads over the land and borders are a thing of the past, we can work together to uncover the rest of the rock art. I know it seems unlikely, but then nothing is what it seems……………………..


Photos: © 2015, Suzanne Cordrey


Sun Flower

Originally posted on leaf and twig:

forsythia’s petal rays
in sunburst bloom
warm the landscape

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Originally posted on leaf and twig:

moonlight magnolia
her fragrance
a memory of heaven

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Originally posted on leaf and twig:

jumps up
purple profundity

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