No Blues in St. Louis

Last November found us in St. Louis, directly underneath the Gateway Arch . . .

and then, of course, inside the Arch where, at the very top, we were . . .

yes, 630 feet above ground. I was happier with that fact than I was with the tram ride up, which rises and then moves sideways with a great clang and clatter to catch the next ratchet for another vertical rise. No, I was not a happy camper until I got off the tram and my valor was rewarded with these views:


After a harrowing tram ride down, a visit to the Budweiser brewery was a necessity. They've kept much of the old architecture, and the grounds are just beautiful . . .

as are the Clydesdales. Such gorgeous animals!

After lingering long to sample Budweiser products (they pour generously there!), we made our way to the St. Louis Botanical Gardens. I love this garden gate, topped with blown glass which looks like the rays of the sun.

The garden was breath-taking, in its Autumn colors:





This is a woven willow window (say that 3 times fast!) in the Japanese garden.

In Southeast Texas, we've lost so many of our trees to hurricanes. This tree was massive.
The garden's architecture is beautiful, especially accented with Autumn foliage.



And I love the kinetic sculptures, too.

So much to see! A rest on a bench, bedecked with golden gingko leaves, was welcome.

If I lived in St. Louis, I would have a difficult time staying out of the garden. I hope to return there this summer -- I'm sure it's a treat then,too! Thanks for traveling with me!

Memories of Saudia Arabia

During the 80's, my husband worked in Saudia Arabia for several years. Daughter and I lived there with him for three of those years. I have so many memories of our time there, mostly good ones.

We lived in Yanbu, a small but modern city built to house industrial workers, near an ancient fishing village (also named Yanbu) on the Red Sea. The highlight of our month was traveling some 200 miles to the big city of Jeddah, a drive which took us down the Red Sea coast and across desert landscapes marked by beautiful, ever-changing sand dunes. In Jeddah we could buy American food at a westernized grocery store (but at a price: CocoPuff cereal for about $8.00 U.S.) and even indulge in pizza and Baskin-Robbins ice cream (at $6.00 per scoop)!

My favorite activity in Jeddah was visiting the old souk -- wildly colorful, teeming with activity, fragrant with the spice vendors' wares. When we were in Saudi, the marketplace hadn't changed much through the decades. In fact, if you glanced above the rough tents which housed each small "shop," you would see that the ancient buildings were constructed of coral harvested from the Red Sea.

At the Jeddah souk, I bought Bedouin articles -- two incense burners, a bracelet, and a container for kohl, a type of eye cosmetic













silver jewelry













and a spice box












which, when opened, reveals a tray and smaller containers.

You could also buy carpets, textiles, baskets and other handcrafts, and of course gold jewelry.


You might see many Saudi women in the souk, but always clothed in the traditional black abaya which covers everything, neck to wrists to ankles, and the women were always -- always -- fully veiled, so that no facial feature or hair was on display.

Early one evening, as we were leaving the souk, I noticed a policeman hand-in-hand with a young boy, not much younger than my daughter. As I watched in surprise, a Saudi woman across the way removed her veils, and I could see tears streaming down her face. The policeman released the youngster's hand, and the little boy ran across the souk into his mother's waiting arms. As any mother would do, she covered the child's face with kisses, crying all the while. Instantly I understood -- This little one had become separated from his mother and, in her relief and happiness at finding her lost child, the requirement of the veil was forgotten.

Mothers are the same the world over, as are children, as are all humans in so many ways. I would have done the same had I lost my child -- whether in the Jeddah souk's warren of vendors or in a modern shopping mall. Ideology may mask the commonalities of us all, but it does not erase our humanity -- the common thread which links us all as fellow passengers on our separate journeys in this world.

Peace on earth, my friends. That is what I pray for at the beginning of this new year, and it is what I wish for you in your life.