On and off the water

Somewhere on Daugherty Creek near Janes Island.

Find joy and peace in this very moment.

~Thich Nhat Hanh

Just as you throw a stone into the water and the waves go out, similarly your thought waves are going out. Imagine you are on the top of Mount Everest. You are sitting and sending waves out to the entire globe. You are a beautiful magnetic field and you vibrate…Become a beacon of vibratory power of your soul…Send the waves out…One planet, one humanity, one mankind…

~ Yogi Bhajan

Leaving the boat launch.

It’s another hot and humid day.  I suppose it’s typical of summer although I’ve seen maps showing how we’re warmer than usual all across the board.  Last week one of our local weatherpeople referred to rising sea levels as part of his forecast when he mentioned a coastal flood advisory.  He said we’re likely to see flooding more and more often with the full and new moons.  I had already noticed it, the high tides being higher than they were when we moved here five years ago.  The flooding is minor most of the time.  It’s during the super high tides that we see the fish swimming in the woods.

We had a few pop-up showers earlier that made it even steamier outside than it was before the rain.  I do wish we’d get a good soaking.  The land, the plants, and the critters all need it.  There is rain in the forecast tonight and tomorrow.  I’ve been doing my rain dance in hopes that will make it so.

Heading towards Janes Island.

It occurred to me that I haven’t posted any of the photos I took during my last outing on the boat (July 1).  As you can see, it was a beautiful morning.  Hot, muggy, and occasionally buggy, but the sky was a lovely shade of blue.  I was surprised that the flies bothered us out on the water.  What in the world are they doing way out there?  On the creek it made sense, but when we were farther out on the Big Annemessex River, it was puzzling.  Maybe they caught a ride out with us and we just didn’t notice them until they started biting us.  It wasn’t a swarm or anything like that.  Just one or two every now and then.

Great Egret wading at the edge of the creek.

We have visitors coming to the ranch next week.  Our oldest son, his wife, and our granddaughters will be arriving on Monday afternoon.  I am very much looking forward to seeing them.  We’ve been getting the house ready (moving furniture around and cleaning) and making plans.  Beach and boating plans are somewhat weather-dependent so we’ll have to wait and see, but as of this writing, things are looking good.  Tropical Depression Two Storm Beryl is somewhere way out in the Atlantic.  The hurricane experts expect it to dissipate within 96 hours to a tropical wave, bringing some heavy rains to the islands down that way (the Leeward Islands).

Sanctuary.

I am currently reading The Floating World: A Novel by C. Morgan Babst.  The story is set in New Orleans and follows a family during and immediately after Katrina.  The writing is beautiful, and the story is somewhat haunting.  It is also a reminder of how destructive Mother Nature can be.

When the clouds and trees echo each other. (This morning.)

For years I’ve been meaning to buy a polarizing filter for my camera and for years I kept forgetting to do it.  I finally got around to doing it last week and have been playing with it.  The photography experts say it helps with sun glare, especially on water, the leaves of the trees, and reflections on glass.  I just found out that I can (and should be) moving or positioning the filter until I get the results I want.  I was thinking it was static.  (Yes, I am one of those people who plays around with things before reading the manual.)   Not surprisingly, the filter is a lot like putting sunglasses on the camera lens.

The first sunflower of the season. It’s a volunteer. The sunflowers we planted might be blooming by next week.

I was quite pleased with some of the results of experimenting with the filter.  Yellow, for instance, can be difficult to shoot in bright sunlight and I often end up with white (glare) spots when I photograph yellow flowers.  The sunflower pictured above doesn’t have any of that going on.  Now that I know I should be turning the filter for different effects, I think I’ll play with the sunflower some more over the next few days.

The first zinnia of the season.

One of the first exercises in the book Zen Camera: Creative Awakening with a Daily Practice in Photography is to shoot from the hip for about an hour a day.  Basically, it’s shooting without looking through the viewfinder.  This is easiest to accomplish with a point and shoot camera so I think I will use Lulu (my little everything-proof point-and-shoot) when I go out and about to do this.  (Side note:  The images from the boat outing were taken with Lulu.)  I played around with the idea a little bit while out on my bike ride yesterday, but didn’t come up with anything I’d want to show anyone.  David Ulrich, the author of the book, writes that shooting from the hip should be fun, spontaneous, and liberating, and might put you in a Zen state of flow in which you rely on intuition rather than intellect.  It might even give me a different perspective on how I frame and compose my shots.

Watching the light and shadows this morning.

That’s about it from me and from the Wabi-Sabi Ranch for today.  Thank you so much for stopping by.  It looks like we might have an interesting sunset if the clouds continue as they have been.  Let’s meet out at the Point to see what we can see.  Sunset is at 8:24 PM.  I’ll bring the bug spray.  We’re gonna need it.

Be good, be kind, be loving.  Just Be.  🙂

Lily in the scrounger’s garden.

A few of the 10,000 reasons to be happy:  771)  Sunflowers!!! They are so cheerful and sunny and bright.  772)  Taking the last antibiotic for this round of antibiotics.  It is good to be finished with that.  773)  Playing with the camera and the new filter.  774)  Our first grapes on the grapevine that lives near the scrounger’s garden.  After finding the vine in the jungle that was out there when we bought the place, I’ve been babying it along and this is the first year I’ve seen grapes on it.  775)  Early morning in the garden.

Rose of Sharon.