Family Adventure: Exploring the Past

The kids in church found an abandoned property nearby which they claimed had as many as 6 crumbling buildings. Twice a week my son would beg me to come explore with them & finally, we set out for a mid-week, family adventure.

The clues began as soon as we crossed over the ravine & into the overgrown thicket. I stopped the boys to point out the towering hedgerow which had once lined the lane leading into the main house. If you have ever crept around an old property, you will understand the strange silence & reverence the air holds. It's wistful & a bit melancholy, but a truly magical quality if you pause to feel it. I was 10 again, as we traversed around the buildings, collected clues & put together pieces. It was a journey across time & to unknown lives.

Our investigation began with the most recent of the buildings...one in which my son asserted had stood mostly intact only days before. Wooden roof beams some lined with masonry nails blocked my path from the living room. More clues.... I could see evidence of a porch which had long ago been closed off into a room. Looking across the weathered wainscoating & knotty pine panelling of the living room, I could almost see the matriarch rushing to peer through the venetian blinds which still hang vertically though the wall is asunder. The only signs of her kitchen are tatters of red, stained-glass wallpaper strewn about the forest floor.

Under this cascade of roofing materials there is a cedar lined closet with electrical fixtures & hangers still in place. We traveled backwards in time through no less than 8 buildings. Our next stop was what appears to have been the pickling cellar, the leafy forest floor barely masking layers of empty bottles & jars.... There were more discoveries that magical evening... additional buildings,rusty relics fallen walls with windows in tact, amazing stone foundations, plant treasures of long abandoned garden beds... Perhaps I will write of this again.

Warm Nights

The crystal clear nights of winter star-gazing fill me with an amazing sense of awe, wonder & humility. This recent warm spell is particulary delightful & the other night, I comfortably pondered the night sky in but a knee-length robe. What a treat !!!
Last night as my husband & son shared their evening ritual of tickles & verbal jabs, my son's wit had me in stitches. He laughingly declared to his dad, "I'll bet you remember being shot in the 1700's!" . The winning comment, which doubled me over with belly laughs was this: " Dad is so old he remembers when Latin was new"..... wherever does he get this stuff ?!!!?!

Warm, Winter Days

I am continuously in awe of February days in the South. We spent the entire day on our neighbor's deck feasting on wings & ribs & cheddar-brauts. I wore the lightest of t-shirts with jeans & envied the man who sat in shorts in the warming sun. While others watched the lake, I sat with my back to it captivated by the quality of reflected light in the trees. They shimmered against the Carolina Blue sky, heightened by the occasional wisp of white passing by. A hawk went gliding slowly overhead & my brother called out, "She's missing a wing feather! It's you girl!". She had moved in the day I brought my son home from his birth in Dec. of 2000. With the ferrals having decimated the small animal population, we hadn't seen her in months & here she was soaring low as if part of our fellowship.

Later on some 30 buzzards moved through, traveling in clusters of 6-8. It is quite rare to see so many & though their presence meant the end of hawk sightings for the day, it was amazing to see these enormous birds in such large numbers. We stayed long into the evening reminiscing over memories past & creating ones anew. New friendships were forged & old ones strengthened. It was an amazing break from winter's isolating cold.

Boy Dirt

A 10 year old boy around the house leads to some very interesting & amusing things, like this toothpaste dragon on my bathroom vanity. We also wrestle with keeping the child clear of "little boy dirt". Clothes & clean are just not of any particular significance nor importance for him. This is an image of what his hand typically looks like upon return from the sk8park.

We regularly remind him to take a shower & "put on clean clothes". One night, as London climbed into our bed for evening devotions, prayer & tickle time, Tom noticed something peculiar. He asked our son, "How many shirts are you wearing?"....5... Each time we had told him to put on clean clothes, he had simply added another layer. We had been so busy running in different directions we hadn't followed up on his habits...lesson learned !

Momma Ollie

Walking along near the pond, I spied a skateboard half buried by leaves on the edge of the forest. My 10 year old son & his 9 year old buddy, checked with neighbors to find it was free & clear for acquisition. We returned home & I sat on my brother's front stoop, watching the boys try tricks on this "beater-board". When they went up to our truck to get their own gear, the board seemed to beckon me. Without a word or any flourish, I mounted the board & positioned my feet carefully. The goal is for the board to raise up as you jump, then land on it when it returns to the ground. The boys heard the clattering & turned towards me. Their jaws were open in shocked awe as I worked the board under my feet. To their amazement, I accomplished my 1st Ollie on my 3rd attempt...thus attaining the status of "Coolest Mom". The boys gave me pointers as I continued my efforts to leap higher & learn to walk the board. Here I am at the age of 48 doing my 1st skateboard tricks !!! How empowering !!!

After a good, long while I went inside to do "mom stuff", preparing the cheesiest, stickiest, macky cheese ever with hotdog pieces mixed in. There were bbq chips, baked beans & raspberry applesauce as sides. I fetched the boys to watch the amber, full moon rise above the pines before we headed in for a princely supper. The boys carefully selected our animal-shaped paper plates, while I lit 3 platters of pillar candles & placed a dozen roses on the table. My husband & 2 boys were bursting with pride as we dined by candlelight in the afterglow of Mom's first Ollie!

"Time of Transparency"

Deep in the southern winter when the darkness peaks, leathery, brittle leaf remnants of sepia & umber still cling tenaciously to their former home on branch of gray. The "Season of Lines" follows as the final leaves give way to their long awaited descent. Pines begin to thin of needles & it as though the forest turns into a transparent mist...like the shadowy figures in a time-exposure print of a crowded space... a mere haze of what was, or is.... Views obscured by leaf or line advance for but a few weeks each year & elusive vistas step forward from beyond the point... As the the light begins to grow & the days lengthen, there is a "Time of Transparency", prior to the advent of spring.

At times in my spiritual journey there are periods of distance & darkness. I am brought to a barren place where my Saviour God feels far away. In the "Season of Lines", the naked strength of the structure is revealed. I use this time to look introspectively at my own foundations. As I strive to feel His grace & mercy, I look deeper & deeper within, knowing that an incredible mountaintop awaits me on the other side of this "valley". I come to a place of utter transparency, where the shadowy motives & desires of my carnal nature are laid completely bare & exposed. As I search my innermost paths, they move across my awareness as a mist. Once my quarry has come into view, I surrender all at the foot of the cross. The sun feels closer, the light lengthens, & new growth begins to erupt.

The Return of Old Friends

A flock of Canadian Geese spends their winter at our former church a few miles away from our home. In early morning, a pair from that group typically flies into our neighborhood to spend their days here. The pond across from our side forest has been lonely with only the 3 remaining ducks & as the season has grown late, I wondered if our Canadian friends would return. Driving home from work recently, I was delighted to see they had returned. As is my custom, I stopped my van, rolled down the window & called out, "Hi, kids ! Welcome back!" This is my daily routine & they are usually a bit wary. My van is eye level with them as they stand atop the earthen dam which separates the water from the road. This year, they did not squawk any alarm, nor did they hurry off into the water. They actually waddled their tails in a mild way, turned towards me & murmured as though they understood. I lingered & talked gently to them before I thought to dig out my camera. Fumbling with my bag caused them some concern & they slowly headed over the birm towards the water. I was able to get this one shot as the male lingered to let his mate go on ahead safely. It's nice to have our old friends back & to watch for their noisy silhouettes each evening as they fly against the painted sky to join the safety of their flock for the night.

Abandonment Issues

The upper end of our neighborhood has rental properties where it is sadly common for people to move out & leave their unfixed pets behind to fend for themselves. Some years ago, a friend peered over our deck & cried out with delight, "Look at the kittens coming from under your neighbor's shed!" Even the most grizzled of our bunch was taken in by the new lives venturing forth on trembling legs. Over the next few weeks, we enjoyed watching the babies grow stronger & move out on their own. IN ONE SEASON a few kittens became a ferral population of over 20. They were no longer cute, nor was the situation. After a time, things grew strange. Neighborhood pets began disappearing, one violently ripped from a carrier on it's own back porch. Then came the morning neighbors discovered the metal fender of their brand new car had been chewed up in an attempt to get to a litter of kittens. Teeth marks & paw prints revealed the identity of the culprit: coyote. Nine, beloved pets were lost before he had cleared out the ferrals & moved on.

The cycle has started up again. Last winter we counted 7 adult cats making regular trips through our yard & within weeks their numbers were around 30. I love cats, but these are wild animals covered in parasites, carrying disease in oozing eyes & noses. Many wear battle scars from their fights for daily survival....all avoidable had 1 or 2 owners had taken responsibilty for their pet. Cat rescue associations were swamped & their waiting lists years long. I began trapping them taking them to our local shelter. These 5, the 3rd of many litters born here, were the first I took in. Neighborhood kids came with me that trip & we arrived at the shelter early on just some random day of the week. As we waited the 6 minutes for the shelter to open, the kids counted a staggering number of cats, kittens & canines already in line...

The shelter was teeming with broken-hearted animals wearing penitent eyes. The 4 of us stayed for hours giving & receiving love. During our time there I kept an eye on the 1st building where a steady stream of traps, boxes & carriers arrived full & left empty. That week I got 11 felines "off the streets". )I even trapped a possum who was delighted to return to his forest home). The men at the shelter,who are used to taking trapped animals out of cages called me "The Cat Lady" & said our cats are particularly mean. One day the kids brought me an amazingly sweet, little cat who didn't stand a chance with the ferrals in our hood. They begged me to take him to the shelter so he could find his forever home... that turned out to be OUR home & Maxie-kitty who now happily resides indoors, has richly blessed us.

In the dark of recent nights, the clamour of multiple coyotes grows ever nearer our home & I have to leash our puppy at night. Where once the joyous, peaceful song of birds abounded, we hear cries of alarm. The angry fights & pained screams of territorial cats pierce the tension-filled forest. The cat population has decimated the smaller wildlife. Squirrels no longer play freely nor do the hawks nest here. They rarely even soar overhead.
An incredibly sweet, little female was recently abandoned. Everyone in the neighborhood loves her... but not enough to give her medical care or a place in their family. One day, when she made her way into my yard, I reminded her to keep safe from the coyotes. Before I could think twice she & I were on our way to the shelter. She was already pregnant & will be fostered until she is ready to go on line for adoption.
I borrowed a trap & ultimately caught the primary, breeding momma. Uncertain of her manner around people, my heart weighed heavily as I took her in. Most of the ones I've trapped have screamed & fought as caged, wild animals will do. This one was oddly calm. I pray the neighbors have accustomed her enough to people that she too might find a home. If the original owners had gotten her spayed, or taken her into the shelter, or had found her a home, I wouldn't be in this position. It was a hard thing to do.... It hurt & angered me.... I thought of these babies, who never should have been born. I thought of the myriad of silent eyes in cages at the shelter as I signed her over...

The next morning, Momma Wren began to sing again...

Random Close-Ups of Ice

Tales Of The Hunt

The crescent moon was glorious the other evening & I watched as it began it's westward descent. Spying it's reflection in the bird-bath of the lower yard, I was up for the challenge to shoot it. When I returned with my tripod, our aged, collie mix companion, Juliette slipped out behind me. It was a difficult shot as I had to stand back & zoom in between the deck pickets. Within moments, Juliette returned & was prancing around like a puppy, but I was "in the zone", calculating the angle. Apparently while I was hunting the shot, she had done some hunting of her own. Turning back to the glass door, I cried aloud as I discovered the source of her youthful delight... she had brought me a possum, which lay curled up & motionless at my feet. I was upset, but couldn't scold her as she was simply protecting her herd....sigh...we like our wildlife to remain wild...& living.....

I thought to get the shovel immediately, but decided to "save it" for my son, who was playing next door. With dismayed heart, I took a few images of the poor thing; even tinkered with the notion of capturing some macro shots of fur, face & tail.
Some 20 minutes later, I looked out to discover it had vanished into the night. Unlike the spring groundhogs Juliette brings home, this one had feigned death before she could snap it's neck. It had played possum & survived her grasp ! I never did get a decent shot of the entire crescent actually in focus, but I have a new goal for which to hunt. (First, I need to rid of the leaves in the bird-bath).

Visual Ruminations

Though I am a visual artist, I love penning words to paper. In every class, meeting or speaking event I attend I am the one sitting near the front voraciously taking notes, while I draw & shade. I typically do so in this sketchbook & most of the drawings are actually lyrics or phrases that speak to me. I tediously shade in colored ink, while my mind processes & digests what I am hearing. I am also an avid journaller. As Sarah ban Breathnach says, it is a way to quiet myself & clear my mind of "the continuous conversations I carry on within myself". When I write to God, my prayers become more tangibly focused & deliberate. It is a way for me to wrestle & reflect upon where I have been, where I am, & where I might be going. Rereading over my thoughts after days, weeks or months, I find a new perspective. But words can be too specific at times...not broad enough. Sometimes I want simply the gist of the thought or feeling, & sometimes I simply have no words.

This rendering is very different from most of my work & I think of it as "visual processing" or "journalling aloud". It was never intended to be shown to even those closest to me. It was formed from 3, partial & distinct memory pictures I have carried with me for several years. Though I knew who & where, I had no understanding of why. Feeling restless & creative one morning, I pulled out these old, "soul images". Focusing first on shape, I compiled them into a single picture. I worked the better part of the weekend building layer upon layer of colored pencil. It is deep & muddy as whatever unknown thoughts or feelings with which I wrestled. There isn't one area of a single hue. Over the course of 2 days memories & hurts began to slip into my conscious thought. By the time this was complete, I was able to identify & write about some unresolved hurts & anger. I was also able to grieve a loss, put something behind me, let go, heal & move forward. Pretty cool process, actually !

Rushing Witness?

This is another one of those images that is severely flawed. It looks awful if I rotate to the format in which it was shot.... but I like it...a lot. It has angular movement that makes it dynamic. Contrasted against the gently focused snow, it really makes me pause. I find comfort & a sense of peace from this abstract image.
This past week I found myself hurrying through stores as I juggled an extremely hectic schedule. On more than one occasion I reached passed a store patron uttering the phrase, "I'm sorry. I'm rushing to get to worship."
My instinct was to be open about going to church, but it started me thinking of an unspoken message. I hadn't in any way been rude, but what kind of witness am I rushing along through life? I have been unable to find any scripture reference of Jesus rushing & He was fully aware of His time limits. When the little girl was dieing & when Lazarus had died, Jesus didn't hurry to them.
"You never know who is watching." is a popular phrase. Neighbors you've never even met may notice your vehicle leave regularly at worship times..... How you treat others, your kindnesses & patience (or lack thereof) speak volumes. Most of us have been cut off in traffic by a vehicle that is covered with Jesus bumper stickers... So many non-believers & folks who don't go to church judge Christ by our words & our actions. I think the actual pace at which we make our daily rounds is a witness, whether we are aware of it or not. I consciously slow things down to focus in my prayer & devotion times, but often rush through the rest of my life. My life needs to reflect Jesus' perfect peace, so I'm going to strive to slow it down in the throngs of daily living. I don't know who may be "watching."