Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Autumn... A Childhood Memory

Standing on the bridge that crosses
The river that goes out to the sea
The wind is full of a thousand voices
They pass by the bridge and me.

Maryland’s air was crisp and the ground crunchy from fallen leaves. Persimmon’s yellow and shriveled on the vine left earthly scents in our noses and the spent cornstalks left in the garden made great hiding places, stamping them down to form a circle and in our mind was a fortress impenetrable in our play army games. The nights cool and clear and the sounds from flocks of birds heading to their winter homes and the bay even seemed quieted though the industries across it were still spilling smoke from stacks. She loved those evenings; she loved her world there at the Point where the land ends.  Sitting under a chestnut tree watching a lone barge inching its way up the river and under the bridge and out away from view.
With the sun sinking in the distance across the bay, she knew she would be called in the house soon and she probably could go on her own without being told, but she needed to stretch all of the daylight out as long as she could and sitting there fiddling with the hulls of the chestnuts and absorbing all the sounds and smells that this wonderful time of year brought, felt necessary.

Monday, September 27, 2010

Hints of Fall

A stroll yesterday on a crisp day I was amazed with the number of days of cool weather but the lack of color in the changing leaves.  There were more hints around other than this tree pictured but still not like I would have expected.  I actually believe it is probably a good thing for this to happen slowly, probably a good display of color to come without turning too fast and falling too early.  Still on the hunt for all things Autumn!

Friday, September 17, 2010

Leaving England

It's a funny thing how I can't wait to be home and once I know that I'm going and start the ticket shopping process I start getting bittersweet feelings.  I look at my little home in England differently, the garden, the pets and yes Andy too.  It shouldn't be so difficult.  If I were a person with money that could find travelling back and forth easier than what I aleady do......more often is what I mean to say, maybe it could all work out.  My mind immediately starts thinking how good it is to be surrounded with my family but then there is the chaos of trying to find a job and the big one is the shuffling around to one home to the next.  Finding a job has proven to be impossible the last couple of trips back.  So many people looking for work and when something is available my application reads like a gypsy.  I used to be tough, thick skinned and determined... I've watched through the years how that has almost dwindled from bad luck, heart breaks, disappointments and let downs of all shapes and sizes.  Andy has provided me with a roof and a safe haven and for that I should be grateful......and I am except for the fact that my role as grandmother is not being filled.  I want my family just as close to me as I can get them but I hate where they live. : (
Not their fault about that though... they've rooted like an old tree to the place they grew up at and I don't see that changing.  So my choice is to leave adventure of one sort to another kind.  My worry is that anything good will turn sour just because of circumstance of living and working.  Andy won't even speak about my leaving..... he won't give me any idea of his choice of which airport he'd rather drive to.  I feel so sorry to leave him behind again and I know this separation will be a long one this time.... even longer if I don't fall into something substantial quick.  It has to be done, I/we can't keep this up at our age....there has to be some stability.  My father told me a long, long time ago my running around ways would come to haunt me.  I think even my rocking chair will have wheels.

Monday, September 13, 2010

Castor And Pollux

Pondering and reveling through weeks of introspection and how surfacing through it has left me respectful through all the changes survived within my life with all the lessons learned, which in itself is masterful. Reaching a conclusion of how the familiar is not necessarily the right path taken and now sometimes contrasts are better when left to art and artist.  Even within life's chaos I found contrasts and meanings without actually living it daily. But when comfort is found, when focus finally finds you and even if it means your the sad face in the crowd for awhile; does that really matter anyway?
People, places and faces are distorted to me and no longer hold the key to that mystery of my life's happiness.. Equally easier to move on and past that black hole of boredom and redundancy.
A strange force when reckoning my soul, accepting of my loyalty to self as one of beauty instead of misinterpreted strangeness as I watch the spectators do what they do...speculate.
They're strangely sluggish and high with ideas while doing nothing. Wasting time as if it won't end and borrowing from generations past as an affinity. Stalemated, safe and self appointed is the easy road and I'd rather remain confused but certain, lost while endlessly searching and tormented like an artist while wide eyed in the all wonderment of the unfamiliar, than live with a safety net among an oppressing shadow. And now it gives refreshed enlightenment to what's real.
Age brings tenacity...and one finds the courage to resist the familiar...looking upon it as superficial as I've always done but with more courage than ever before. There IS a comfort as crone-hood is at my step. Neither familiar nor unexciting. Castor and Pollux are my contrast and we're learning to live together, finally.

My Father Said Walk With Moccasin Feet

“Step lightly” he said rather gruffly. “If you can hear yourself walk the animals can too”
She slowed and while watching her feet decided that tip toeing would be better and maybe Dad would be happy with her new walk.
He glanced around and noticed her.
“No", he said clearly, feel your feet from heel to toe and feel the ground beneath them” he said less gruffly. “And look up, you have to watch your feet but watch where you’re going at the same time”.
She did as told, trying to feel the ground but while being quiet and watching her feet and where she was going all at the same time she found it curious and fun for at least a moment always reminding herself when she heard the leaves rustle beneath her to step lighter.
She stopped when her father stopped and did it without going head long into his large frame and she slowed when he slowed, started when he started.
“The Indian knew how to be silent when walking”, he continued to teach. This always made her ears perk up anytime mentioning the Indian’s.

Friday, September 10, 2010


Birdkeepers House St. James Park
Seems forever since I've checked on blogger..  All is still quiet it seems. I've become busy on a photography forum and am learning loads of stuff but it has taken all my attention.  Did a sprint in London the other day walking close to 20 miles if not right at it..... As best as I can map my steps on google.  It has taken all of two days to recover from the soreness of power walking and almost a nice set of shin splints.  I'd feel real bad about myself if I were the only one suffering though as it seems I am not.  Andy looked like someone crippled while trying to walk and his daughter who went along with us having fared better was still really tired. 
The week prior showed some beautiful weather when we planned the outing but of course it wasn't meant to be on the day of.  Still the day was utilized for what it was meant to be and that was just a little sightseeing and some photography.  It is probably my last little tour of England before leaving for home within the month.
Anyway... just a bit of dribble in the spirit of making a blog post..... still trying to keep it alive. 

Great White Pelican~ St. James Park