Is childhood ever long enough, or a happy time, or even a beautiful summer day? All of these carry the seeds of the same fierce mystery that we call death.
~ Eugene Kennedy
Age
The foliage has been losing its freshness through the month of August, and here and there a yellow leaf shows itself like the first gray hair admist the locks of a beauty who has seen one season too many.
~ Oliver Wendell Holmes
(Sitting on the edge of the world.)
We sit silently and watch the world around us. This has taken a lifetime to learn. It seems only the old are able to sit next to one another and not say anything and still feel content. The young, brash and impatient, must always break the silence. It is a waste, for silence is pure. Silence is holy. It draws people together because only those who are comfortable with each other can sit without speaking. This is the great paradox.
~ Nicholas Sparks
I took this photo when we were at the top of Pike’s Peak in Colorado (altitude of 14,115 feet). We were, in some spots, above the clouds that day. I’m not sure what the couple in the photo could see from there as I didn’t walk down that far (and it was quite a distance from where I stood to take the photo). Perhaps they were just enjoying the bird’s eye view of the clouds and/or each other’s company.
(The kitchen table. Robbins Crossing. November 2009.)
We inherit from our ancestors gifts so often taken for granted — our names, the color of our eyes and the texture of our hair, the unfolding of varied abilities and interests in different subjects . . . Each of us contains within our fragile vessels of skin and bones and cells this inheritance of soul. We are links between the ages, containing past and present expectations, sacred memories and future promise. Only when we recognize that we are heirs can we truly be pioneers.
~ Edward C. Sellner
As we grow old … the beauty steals inward.
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
(Moon and elm. All photos © 2009 by Robin)
Two large elm trees on our property will be coming down as soon as the weather is warm enough and dry enough. They have succumbed to Dutch elm disease. There is no saving the trees as they are quite dead.
(Sun and elm.)
While out on my walk yesterday I took (too) many photographs of them as it seemed to me that these beautiful giants deserve some sort of recognition. They provided shade for us during the hot summer months and a frame for many a gorgeous sunset. Walking near them on a windy day is now a dangerous proposition as branches and large chunks of bark come flying off at amazing speeds.
We would normally leave the trees to die and come down on their own, providing a home for some of the wildlife. However, they’re located near my vegetable garden and I’ve already been hit by small pieces of bark while out there looking around. I’d hate to have half the tree come crashing down on me while I was weeding.
What did the tree learn from the earth to be able to talk with the sky?
~ Pablo Neruda
(April 2006. Photo by Robin)
A good traveler has no fixed plans, and is not intent on arriving. ~Lao Tzu
I set out on a new journey, a meditative journey, my knapsack over my shoulder, looking like the Fool dancing on the edge of a cliff, ready to take a giant leap of faith.
Why is it The Clash is running through my head?
Should I stay or should I go now?
Should I stay or should I go now?
If I go there will be trouble
And if I stay it will be double…
I leap…
And find myself at a doorway, a portal to another land. I can clearly see the pathway, but have no idea where it will lead.
Should I stay or should I go now?
13 March 2012 update: Funny how this old post is just as appropriate for me today as it was in 2007. Life just keeps cycling from beginning to ending to beginning to… well, you get the idea. New journeys, new adventures, happening all the time.
