Posted in Air, Beach, Earth, Eastern Shore, Exploring, Fire, Friends, Gifts, Gratitude, Health & Well-Being, Life, Maryland, Mindfulness, Nature, Photography, Play, Portals & Pathways, Quotes, Sky, Spirit, Summer, Walking & Wandering, Walktober, Water

More meandering on the beach

Preview of fall colors at Roaring Point Park.

Say you have seen something. You have seen an ordinary bit of what is real, the infinite fabric of time that eternity shoots through, and time’s soft-skinned people working and dying under slowly shifting stars. Then what?

~ Annie Dillard

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Posted in Air, Beach, Earth, Eastern Shore, Exploring, Family, Fire, Friends, Gifts, Gratitude, Life, Love, Maryland, Mindfulness, Nature, Photography, Portals & Pathways, Quotes, Sky, Summer, Walking & Wandering, Walktober, Water, Weather, Wonder

A walk on the beach

Old friends, exploring the beach.

Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.

~ Anais Nin, The Diary of Anais Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934 

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Posted in A bit of history, Assateague Island, Beach, Chincoteague, Critters, Earth, Eastern Shore, Exploring, Family, Fire, Friends, Gifts, Health & Well-Being, Life, Maryland, Nature, Photography, Play, Quotes, Spirit, Summer, Walking & Wandering, Water, Weather, WeekendCoffeeShare, Wonder

If we were having coffee: Heatwave

Little Doe (who is not so little anymore) with her two fawns.

“What do you call yourself?” the Fawn said at last. Such a soft sweet voice it had!
“I wish I knew!” thought poor Alice. She answered, rather sadly, “Nothing, just now.”
“Think again,” it said: “that won’t do.”
Alice thought, but nothing came of it. “Please, would you tell me what you call yourself?” she said timidly, “I think that might help a little.”
“I’ll tell you, if you’ll come a little further on,” the Fawn said. “I can’t remember here.”
So they walked on together through the wood, Alice with her arms clasped lovingly round the soft neck of the Fawn, till they came out into another open field, and here the Fawn gave a sudden bound into the air, and shook itself free from Alice’s arms. “I’m a Fawn!” it cried out in a voice of delight. “And dear me, you’re a human child!” A sudden look of alarm came into its beautiful brown eyes, and in another moment it had darted away at full speed.”

~ Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland & Through the Looking-Glass

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If we were having coffee: The Cleveland Film Festival

View from our hotel room when we arrived in Cleveland on the afternoon of the 31st of March 2017.

I don’t like the idea of “understanding” a film. I don’t believe that rational understanding is an essential element in the reception of any work of art. Either a film has something to say to you or it hasn’t. If you are moved by it, you don’t need it explained to you. If not, no explanation can make you moved by it.

~ Federico Fellini

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Posted in Air, Autumn, Beach, Change, Death, Earth, Eastern Shore, Endings, Exploring, Fire, Friends, Gifts, Gratitude, Home, Life, Maryland, Mindfulness, Nature, Pennsylvania, Photography, Portals & Pathways, Quotes, Sky, Spirit, Walking & Wandering, Wonder, Woods

A Monday meander: Random thoughts

Empty tables.
Waiting in the woods.

He Is Not Dead

I cannot say, and I will not say
That he is dead. He is just away.
With a cheery smile, and a wave of the hand,
He has wandered into an unknown land
And left us dreaming how very fair
It needs must be, since he lingers there.
And you—oh you, who the wildest yearn
For an old-time step, and the glad return,
Think of him faring on, as dear
In the love of There as the love of Here.
Think of him still as the same. I say,
He is not dead—he is just away.

~ Jame Whitcomb Riley

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Posted in Air, Autumn, Change, Death, Earth, Eastern Shore, Endings, Exploring, Fire, Friends, Gifts, Life, Maryland, Mindfulness, Nature, Photography, Portals & Pathways, Quotes, Sky, Spirit, Walking & Wandering, WeekendCoffeeShare, Wonder

If we were having coffee: End of season

Spirits in the sky.
Spirits in the sky.

On its outer surface time is vulnerable to transience. Regardless of its sadness or beauty, each day empties and vanishes. In its deeper heart, time is transfiguration. Time minds possibility and makes sure that nothing is lost or forgotten. That which seems to pass away on the surface of time is in fact transfigured and housed in the tabernacle of memory.

~ John O’Donohue, Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom

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