Monday, September 14, 2015

Weekend Notes


So yesterday morning I spent time in church with Loren.  He was in the choir.  The ritual’s liturgy was a typical Lutheran Service.  Some variation occurred for this Sunday was however a baptismal event.  The young lass Lucy Grace (or if you want to chase down the rabbit-hole of word origins the child of Light and Grace) was resistant to the ceremony she pushed the Pastor’s finger away as he anointed her.  Chuckles were heard in the congregation.

 


Loren was bedecked in a white robe and sang quite nicely.  In front of the huge organ of the chapel he seemed dwarfed. Still I could hear him. His voice lessons seem to be to positive effect.  As I hear him; his range fills in where others miss.  After just a few lessons he seems to sound more confident and more rigorous in his singing.

 

Yesterday there was beautiful.  Travelling home we swung by the Indiana Dunes Lakeshore.  What a wonderful beach.  What a true national treasure.  Living in Michigan 38 out of the last 40 years I have never ventured to this beach. White sand blue lake and even bluer sky, these were just stunning. Wandering along the lakeshore we stopped to look at the Houses of Tomorrow.  The remnants of a building materials exhibition at early 1930s World Fair they were floated across the lake and placed on the southern lakeshore.  What an interesting group of homes.  My wife found the Florida beach home so very similar to hundreds of buildings that used to dot old Florida. 

 

Saturday as we traipsed around northern Indiana our local sporting team won a close game against a team from the left coast.  If was fun to see people in Valparaiso wearing some Spartan jerseys.  It was fun to see the people at the hotel sitting in the lobby watching the game rooting for the Spartans.  When I arrived back the evidence of the weekend was still here and there.  The ubiquitous smashed red Dart 16 ounce cup were to be found on every the quietest of residential streets.

 

 

 

 

Sunday, August 16, 2015

The Joy of Iced Tea



Hot days hang on forever when you are living them.  


91F and standing in the late day sun. Your neck swivels your head as far as it will turn to look for shade or liquid refreshment. Some days neither is to be found. But some days there are victories.


Today with no shade in sight your mind’s eye remembers a big old shade tree, a park picnic bench and a glass of ice tea. Sweating from the cold tea the glass is filled with ice to the brim. A wood bench painted cedar red rests in the shade ‘neath the tree. Having adjusted your butt to the hard wood seat up go the polarized shades to the top of your head. Squinting to see through the shimmering heat on the concrete parking lot across the way you hope there is someone who might give you a ride the rest of your walk. Sure enough there's 63 Impala with all your friends ready to head off down the road.


Yeah days like that are memorable. But today there is no park, no parking lot, no ride, no shade and no ice tea.  Don’t worry you will find you way to there, to that cool shaded place, before it is over.


Sunburns, t-shirts soaked with sweat, the buzzing of insets around the bushes at the edge of the park; each one of them is a different part of the memory of a summer day.  Ice tea, well there just isn’t anything like it to refresh a body, or to quench a thirst acquired from even a short walk.   


I am a sliced lemon on the lip of the glass kind of person on really hot days.  Tartness without any sugar makes ice tea just so darn cooling.


In six months will we be begging for days like this.  Take today as it is and savor it.

Friday, August 14, 2015

Revisit

I am cleaning out my iPhone notes. I  found this. I  may have put it up before but what the hell it is great to absorb even a second time 



I do not love you except because I love you; 
I go from loving to not loving you, 
From waiting to not waiting for you 
My heart moves from cold to fire. 

I love you only because it's you the one I love; 
I hate you deeply, and hating you 
Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you 
Is that I do not see you but love you blindly. 

Maybe January light will consume 
My heart with its cruel 
Ray, stealing my key to true calm. 

In this part of the story I am the one who 
Dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you, 
Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood.

by Pablo Neruda

Be Kind in Your Mind

Best thing I heard on the radio this morning was this tidbit of wisdom. "Once we begin treating other people's lives as entertainment, i.e., when we find humor in their falls, their sufferings and their foibles as spread wide, bright and loud on YouTube we're turning people into something less than human and we really have to be concerned about that." Be a decent person today, don't click on that link.




Estimated Time of Departure

The hour at which one departs can vary the experience of the journey immensely. As little as 15 minutes of delay can increase the air temperature by three or 4°.  Additionally the traffic Increases ! exponentially

Although my hearing is diminished I can hear the trilling and chirping of birds everywhere along with the crunch of acorns under my feet. Despite how "modern" our modern age is become newspapers still wait expectantly for their purchasers to retrieve them wearing only a bathrobe.

I have never been a morning person. But my walks to my office over this summer have been taken with my eyes wide open. My steps through the green canopy above these neighborhoods have convinced me that this is a very beautiful time of day.


Thursday, August 13, 2015

The Old Man

I posted this yesterday on Facebook.  I dictated it as I walked and took pictures with my smartphone.  It seemed a waste to just leave it on that transient forum.

“My street is quiet and still this morning. We are enveloped in relatively cool air. The light is falling through the trees at a different angle than it took a month ago. Make no doubt about it this is still summer but the onset of fall it's not far off.

My walks over the past couple of months have been joyful. They have been showing me my neighbors little joys. There is something quite affirming in the fact that everyone wants a special little thing to make their space their own.

Some people dream of the pure land. Some people dream of heaven with all its attributes described in their beloved Bible. What I dream of is a little more time to walk the streets and alleyways of this full and beautiful world.”

In response to my post my cousin noted the following:


“This took me back to Ocean City when Mel and I would be sitting in the kitchen nook and your Dad would go walking slowly down the alley way behind Central Ave....every morning.....just walking & smoking, and seemingly in deep thought.....no camera......just made me think how much he must have enjoyed "taking it all in", as well.......”


I responded,


“You are so correct about the correlation between my father’s walks and my own. While I haven’t had a cigarette in 30 + years I think I started taking my walks when I was smoking. 


Back then the alleyways of OCNJ were a different world from the main streets. For my health I quit smoking, Still, the walk has always remained part of my routine. For a time my exercise was obtained riding a bicycle.  I went back to walking because you miss too much. Me I try to shift my walking routes. I try to see all of what is going on but with my myopic vision it doesn’t always work.

I also have my father’s shall we call it approachability. People will see me and just start talking to me. Also I don’t mind striking up a conversation with most any person. I know I lot of special people from the buses in Lansing because of that. I through the years have also met some really wonderful people just through casual conversations.


I offer just a short note from one of my walks. When I travel I usually get up in the morning and leave the hotel seeking some kind of coffee and pastries. I was in I think Lake Louise Alberta and had taken a path down across a little bridge to get to the “best” donut shop per the concierge. 


At the bakery my senses were awash in aromas of cinnamon and chocolate and vanilla. The smell was so good I got a food high as I entered the building. As I looked around there was a tour bus driver was just topping off his coffee. I started joking with him about how it must get boring having to dodge those big horn sheep that wander onto the Icefields Parkway. He laughed. I then asked him a question that was essentially if he wasn’t driving a bus what would he personally go see on the drive.


The man in the grey tour guide’s uniform did not hesitate. He directed me to a waterfall that was off the beaten path. In fact it was so off the beaten path there was a point that you made a turn that was so tight by backing up and twisting your wheels on a landing to accomplish the task. Long story short the waterfall was just amazing. Guess what, if I didn’t take my walks and if I didn’t talk to people I would have missed something special. 

Yeah I owe the old man that. While we had some major differences watching him and mirroring his behaviors made me at least part of what I am today.”

Another day another walk



Life is full of adversity. It's the can't dos and the won't be able tos that trip us up and bring us to a state of being ill at ease.  But life has a fire and a desire to exist and prevail.

There are beautiful trees and the wonderful flowers that I photograph each day. These teach us that with nurturing and care some things can grow into incredibly beautiful specimens

But look down some time today. No matter where you're standing there will be some kind of flora pushing its way through the macadam, the concrete, or the brick pavers. Life has a will to be.

We human beings are cosmic weeds. In the battle between entropy and the weeds I hope we prevail.