Carl Wernicke

IHMC

While riding in the procession from the church to the cemetery last week for the funeral of J. Earle Bowden, I noticed what I have been told is a unique Pensacola tradition: cars all along the route stopping to honor the deceased.

Now, I myself have stopped many times for funerals, but it has been a long time since I was part of the procession to the cemetery. I can tell you that from the inside, it is a very moving tribute. People didn’t just pull over to the side of the road, many of them simply stopped where they were, in the road.

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Much has been said in the last few days, by myself and others who worked with him, about J. Earle Bowden. The longtime editor of the Pensacola News Journal died Sunday, and is rightfully being remembered as a dominant figure of his time in Northwest Florida.

At a certain point it becomes difficult to come up with new insights, as certain themes naturally recur in remembering someone as unique as Earle.

I think what might come closest to summarizing Earle’s life and career is a simple fact: it was easy to see who Earle was because he wore it so plainly in his daily life.

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Roger Smith, who lectured recently at IHMC on his work rehabilitating injured birds of prey, made a comment during an interview with me that could not be more true. He said that to fully appreciate what is going on in nature, you have to understand it.

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When most people think of Florida, they don’t think in terms of change of seasons. It’s palm trees and summer all the time. But one of the many advantages to living in Northwest Florida is that we get winter as well as summer, but not too much of it. As the latest snowy blizzard blows through the northeast, it’s a comforting thought.

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I’ve talked before about the value of staying connected to what’s happening locally, something that grows in importance as traditional media suffer from shrinking budgets and staff. But staying connected isn’t just about local news media; it includes a wide variety of community organizations.

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Sunday morning I went for a walk down our driveway, which is lined with woods that stand mostly untended by human hands. The day was gray but the sky was brightening with wisps of blue showing through the low clouds. A fierce storm had blown through in the early morning darkness, a wind-driven rain lashed by lightning, the kind of storm that always makes me feel glad to be tucked into a warm bed.

Carl Wernicke: Mindfulness Is Tending A Garden

Dec 17, 2014
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   People do what they do for many reasons. I have always admired those who can figure out ahead of time why they should do something, but I have always had to develop understanding of things as I go. Which makes it important to not think that I know about something before I do, which, fortunately for me has never been a real problem. There always seems to be plenty of people willing to explain to me how much I don’t know.

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If we Baby Boomers pledged one thing to ourselves, it was that we wouldn’t become our parents as we aged. But that’s proving harder than it seemed at the time.

That came home recently while listening to a selection of today’s popular music when I found myself thinking that it sounded like a lot of noise; bad noise. Oops, I bet that’s how my music sounded to my parents.

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How to get a good night’s sleep seems to be a recurring topic in our hectic, modern society. And with the Baby Boomers aging into growing sleep problems, it’s likely going to be a lucrative medical field as well.

For me, a good night’s sleep starts with my chickens. I’ll explain.

Doing anything new involves a learning curve. In our case, deciding 10 years ago to raise chickens for the eggs was definitely new. And we basically just jumped in after doing a little research. Which is where the learning curve comes in.

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  With the arrival of real winter this week I suddenly realized that this year seems to be zooming by at breakneck speed. That was underscored by what is quickly becoming a traditional sign of the arrival of Thanksgiving – the outbreak of Christmas decorations.

     In my day, we didn’t start decorating for Christmas until after Thanksgiving, but these days the passage of time seems more fluid and irrelevant than ever.

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