On the last of the month

(McConnells Mills State Park, PA. Photo by Robin. October 2007)

A child looking at ruins grows younger
but cold
and wants to wake to a new name
I have been younger in October
than in all the months of spring
walnut and may leaves the color
of shoulders at the end of summer
a month that has been to the mountain
and become light there
the long grass lies pointing uphill
even in death for a reason
that none of us knows
and the wren laughs in the early shade now
come again shining glance in your good time
naked air late morning
my love is for lightness
of touch foot feather
the day is yet one more yellow leaf
and without turning I kiss the light
by an old well on the last of the month
gathering wild rose hips
in the sun

~ W. S. Merwin, The Love of October

A nod to Halloween

(In the Harpers Ferry cemetery. Photo by Robin. September 2007)

‘Tis the night - the night
Of the grave’s delight,
And the warlocks are at their play;
Ye think that without
The wild winds shout,
But no, it is they - it is they.

~Arthur Cleveland Coxe

One Road

(On the Wyggeston Trail, Moraine State Park, PA. Photo by Robin. October 2007)

He used often to say there was only one Road; that it was like a great river: its springs were at every doorstep, and every path was its tributary. “It’s a dangerous business, Frodo, going out of your door,” he used to say. “You step into the Road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to.”

~ J. R. R. Tolkien (The Fellowship of the Ring)

Accepting fear

(Deep in the woods. Moraine State Park, PA. Photo by Robin. October 2007)

I have not ceased being fearful, but I have ceased to let fear control me. I have accepted fear as a part of life — specifically the fear of change, the fear of the unknown; and I have gone ahead despite the pounding in my heart that says: turn back, turn back, you’ll die if you venture too far.

~ Erica Jong

Circus Weekend

It was an unusual weekend. This will be an unusual post for Bountiful Healing.

My oldest son, daughter-in-law, and granddaughter (the Exquisite Emma) came for a visit this weekend.

Normally when they come for a visit we go out and do something that might appeal to a 2-year-old girl. The zoo, the county fair, and in the case of this weekend, the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus.

Also normally, during the course of the weekend I take about 300 photos of Emma, out of which I get about 8-10 great shots. Emma is a wonderful subject and very photogenic, but she’s a 2-year-old who is almost constantly in motion. Plus I prefer candid shots over the posed variety. Posing has its moments and its purposes, but the best photographs are usually candid shots. Occasionally (twice so far) I put together a little booklet for Emma with photos from the weekend. The first booklet was A Visit to the Zoo where there were shots of the animals as well as Emma and her parents. The second was Emma Goes to the County Fair, again with shots of the animals as well as Emma, her parents, and Grandpa and me (<–Grandma).

Taking that many photos means I spend a lot of time following Emma around as if she’s Miss Hollywood with me playing the role of the paparazzi constantly snapping and flashing. Taking that many photos also means I’m not really spending good quality time with Emma.

On Friday our youngest son left for a geology field trip in West Virginia. It involved camping, hiking, and mapping some mountains. Because it is the time of year for leaf-peeping(TM), he asked if he could borrow my camera for the trip.

The idea of loaning out my camera for the entire weekend was not the least bit appealing to me. I was worried my son would lose the camera or break it as he was climbing around on some mountain. I already lost the lens cap on our last great hiking adventure. It broke off the strap and popped off the lens during a rough stretch of hiking when I was paying more attention to my footing and my own safety than that of the camera. I haven’t replaced it yet which meant another worry.

But the main thing was that I’ve gotten so used to carrying the camera around that it’s almost become a part of me.

Who knew that taking photographs could become so addictive?

Not that it’s a bad addiction to have. Realizing that I didn’t want to let go of the camera for even a few days was a sure sign that I needed to do it.

So, I’ve been without a camera all weekend. I don’t have one photograph taken by me of Emma’s first experience with the circus. I don’t have one shot (taken by me) of the incredibly colorful and entertaining circus clowns or other acts. There will be no Emma Goes to the Circus book from this weekend. Or Emma Meets Izzy & Bella (the kittens).

I briefly (and vocally) lamented the fact that I was sans camera when we arrived at the Q to find that for most of the hour prior to the show they opened up the floor (or rings, since this is a circus) to the audience so they can interact with the performers, get autographs, take pictures, etc. I missed many up close and personal photo ops.

We had fantastic seats. I missed many more up close and personal photo opportunities. Emma was enthralled. I could have taken a lot of good shots of the look of wonder on her face as the trapeze artists went flying through the air or the smiles when Bello was performing. I missed a few good photos of Bello, for that matter.

Even so, I don’t regret the decision to spend a weekend without the camera hanging around my neck. It was a good decision with ultimately good consequences.

Main lesson learned from the experience: I enjoyed being in the moment rather than trying to capture and save the moment.

Instead of photos, I have a weekend filled with playtime, tickles, hugs, kisses, giggles, and lots of laughter, all shared with Emma. Instead of photos, I watched the circus performances and the various looks on Emma’s face. Instead of photos, I participated in the experiences of the weekend. Instead of photos, I have the gift of time spent with some of the people I love most in this world.

So, in case you’re still wondering what it is, the unusual thing about this post is: the lack of photos.

It might well be my best post yet, as far as I’m concerned.

Not to worry, though. Regular posting of photographs will resume tomorrow.

Meeting myself

(Crossing the bridge to Maryland. Harpers Ferry, WV. Photo by Robin. September 2007)

No matter where I run, I meet myself there.

~ Dorothy Fields

The ability to see beauty

(Ground clutter. Photo by Robin. October 2007)

Anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old.

~ Franz Kafka

Reclaiming peace

(Sunlight on Lake Arthur, Moraine State Park, Pennsylvania. Photo by Robin. October 2007)

Ultimately, we have just one moral duty: to reclaim large areas of peace in ourselves, more and more peace, and to reflect it towards others. And the more peace there is in us, the more peace there will also be in our troubled world.

~ Etty Hillesum, An Interrupted Life

Love

(Inside a rose. Photo by Robin. October 2007)

Love is the vital essence that pervades and permeates, from the center to the circumference, the graduating circles of all thought and action. Love is the talisman of human weal and woe — the open sesame to every soul.

~ Elizabeth Cady Stanton

A walk around the pond: Autumn

(In flight. Photo by Robin. October 2007)

We had a cold front move through in the wee hours of the morning today. It came booming and blustering in, making enough noise to wake the dead. What woke me was the wind as it was going through a series of howls, moans, and growls, sounding like a giant with a toothache was standing outside of our bedroom window.

The winds have been gusting all day, the sound almost overwhelming at times. I decided I should take a stroll around the pond before the winds decided to carry off all the leaves and deposit them on the east coast somewhere.  (I’m halfway convinced that some of those gusts could carry them clear across the Atlantic to some point in Europe.)

When I first stepped outside, the sky was filled with an enormous flock of birds. I enjoyed watching them swoop and swirl across the sky. If you look carefully at the photo above, you can see some of the swirls and arcs.

The rest of this is a show of red, the leaves I mentioned in my previous post. Enjoy and I’ll be back on Monday or Tuesday.

(Maple leaf. Photo by Robin. October 2007)

(At the back of the pond)

(Showing off)

(A paler shade of red)

(One last glimpse from the other side of the cattails)