“There comes . . . a longing never to travel again except on foot.” ― Wendell Berry, Remembering
“I was the world in which I walked, and what I saw Or heard or felt came not but from myself; And there I found myself more truly and more strange.” ― Wallace Stevens, The Collected Poems
“Above all, do not lose your desire to walk: every day I walk myself into a state of well being and walk away from every illness. I have walked myself into my best thoughts, and I know of no thought so burdensome that one cannot walk away from it.” ― Søren Kierkegaard
Traveling on foot is my favorite way to see the world. It calms the anxieties that arise when I try to go far and fast. I like noticing small details. I like stopping to take in the perspective of my surroundings and my inner thoughts. I like relying on my own body and appreciating it. I am content with the beauty and wonder that I’ve been able to encounter in the areas I’ve ambled. I also enjoy seeing photos of places upon which I will never set foot. There is so much to enjoy on this amazing planet!
Do you have favorite viewpoints you go back to – for perspective, for nostalgia, for inspiration?
Iron Mountain, Cascades
This week’s Lens-Artists challenge invites us to revisit Landscapes, a theme that was also assigned in 2019. When I did that original challenge, I was living in Wisconsin. You can view the post I created HERE. I wrote that landscapes are my favorite photographic subject and that I wanted my soul to be a landscape – a place where I have a broad view of a larger reality, where Beauty and Life surround me and produce the thing I call Love.
Since then I have moved to Oregon, and found new Love all around.
Nye Beach, NewportStrawberry Mountain WildernessWilliam L. Finley National Wildlife RefugeAlsea Falls State Recreation AreaMy driveway
Thanks to Egidio for inviting us to share our landscapes and for his superb selection of examples.
“We have not long to love. Light does not stay. The tender things are those we fold away. Coarse fabrics are the ones for common wear. In silence I have watched you comb your hair. Intimate the silence, dim and warm. I could but did not, reach to touch your arm. I could, but do not, break that which is still. (Almost the faintest whisper would be shrill.) So moments pass as though they wished to stay. We have not long to love. A night. A day….” ― Tennessee Williams, The Collected Poems
The Wheel of the Year has turned to Samhain, midway between the Fall Equinox and the Winter Solstice. In the northern hemisphere, the solar winter has now begun. It is the time of year when many cultures honor their ancestors, for the veil between the earthly world and the spirit world is thin.
The trail around Cabell Marsh in Finley National Wildlife Refuge is now closed to hikers until April first so that overwintering birds will not be disturbed. Last week, I saw white pelicans, great blue herons, snowy egrets, tundra swans, Dusky Canada geese, ducks, and nutria in the silent fog.
The wispy traces of light and web and cloud and spirit float away in the blink of an eye. What remains is the feeling that I have been visited by beauty and embraced in Life, a feeling that I call Love.
A Samhain Blessing
May the ancestors deliver blessings on you and yours May the new year bear great fruits for you May your granted wishes be as many as the seeds in a pomegranate May the slide into long nights bring you light May the memories of what has been keep you strong for what is to be May this Samhain cleanse your heart, your soul and your mind! Blessed Be. –Unknown
I dream of a world where Love is the currency that matters. It is invested, returned, compounded, treasured, and generously spread. It flows on every level, in every relationship, from the smallest interaction between particles to the most complex interdependence of galaxies. It is recognized as the force and the source of this marvelous gift we call Life. It creates abundance, beauty, goodness, and balance. Like water, it is soft and powerful, creating transformation over time, shaping wonders as majestic as the Grand Canyon.
Thanks, Ann-Christine, for allowing me to dream a bit, imagining the satisfaction of my yearning.
“Well, the sun’s not so hot in the sky today and you know I can see summertime slipping on away. A few more geese are gone, a few more leaves turning red, but the grass is as soft as a feather in a featherbed. So I’ll be king and you’ll be queen, our kingdom’s gonna be this little patch of green. Won’t you lie down here right now in this September grass?” – James Taylor, September Grass
“Well, I’m-a going back down, maybe one more time Deep down home, October road And I might like to see that little friend of mine That I left behind once upon a time Oh, promised land and me still standing It’s a test of time, it’s a real good sign Let the sun run down right behind the hill I know how to stand there still ‘Til the moon rise up behind the pine, oh, Lord October road, an October road October road” – James Taylor, October Road
“And when October goes The snow begins to fly Above the smokey roofs I watch the planes go by The children running home Beneath a twilight sky Oh, for the fun of them When I was one of them” – Barry Manilow, When October Goes
I feel the shift in seasons deeply in my soul. The loss of summer hits like grief falling in raindrops, the darkness descending earlier and earlier each day. But then, those sunny fall days when the colors pop and beckon remind me that I can live in this place of heightened appreciation and nostalgia. I amble more slowly through the leaves, aware of the passing of time and the gift of life. I love this season in a different way than I love summer. And when it gets even colder, I will mourn the fading light and the maple leaves. But I will love the rain that fills the marshes and the ribbons of migrating birds.
Life is a gift, in any season. Thanks, Johnbo, for inviting remembrance of beautiful Autumns. I have two past posts on this theme, with large galleries of photos from my life in the Midwest. You can see them HERE and HERE.
“Crater Lake inspires awe. Native Americans witnessed its formation 7,700 years ago, when a violent eruption triggered the collapse of a tall peak. Scientists marvel at its purity—fed by rain and snow, it’s the deepest lake in the USA and one of the most pristine on Earth. Artists, photographers, and sightseers gaze in wonder at its blue water and stunning setting atop the Cascade Mountain Range.”
“Iron Mountain Lookout, located in the Willamette National Forest, was a fire lookout structure that stood on a prominent rock pinnacle above Highway 20. While the lookout is no longer there, having been destroyed in 2007, the site is still a popular destination for hiking and wildflower viewing. The mountain itself is part of the Old Cascades and offers stunning views of the surrounding peaks, including the Three Sisters.”
“With its ideal location on the magnificently rugged Oregon Coast, the entire city of Newport is a natural observatory that offers a number of fun and educational activities for the whole family. Spend the morning exploring tide pools, combing the beach for fossils and spotting marine life in their natural habitats. Then head over to the Oregon Coast Aquarium where you can pet an octopus and walk through a glass tunnel surrounded by sharks. Newport is also home to two lighthouses, one of which is the tallest on the Oregon Coast. Historic Nye Beach, with its colorful cottages and laid-back atmosphere, is the perfect spot for a picnic and a quick rest from all the sightseeing.”
You hold in your hands a guidebook of destinations. With a rush of excitement, you realize that these are not far away, they are within a few hours of your home. How were these amazing places formed? What is their geological history? What species live there? What kind of seasonal changes affect them? Are there trails there that I can hike? And finally, how can I get there from here?
There is so much to learn and so much to live for. I am so grateful to have such beauty surrounding me! Thanks to Tina for inviting us to share so many things we’ve learned and for her examples of photography techniques
“The way is clear, the light is good, I have no fear, nor no one should. The woods are just trees, the trees are just wood. No need to be afraid there– there’s something in the glade there… Into the woods without delay, but careful not to lose the way. Into the woods, who knows what may be lurking on the journey? Into the woods to get the thing that makes it worth the journeying. Into the woods–” Stephen Sondheim
I was at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival last weekend and saw a production of “Into the Woods” at the Elizabethan theater. How perfect that this is the Lens-Artists challenge theme this week! Thanks, Egidio!
My neck of the woods includes a great number of Douglas Fir trees and a carpet of Solomon’s Seal, ferns, and wood sorrel. Lichen and moss cover the branches of oaks. This is the temperate rain forest.
For much of the year, you could literally bathe in the forest. Walking through clouds is not unheard of, either.
My weekly Monday walks give me the benefits of forest oxygen and sanity, cardio exercise and socialization.
Sleeping In The Forest
I thought the earth remembered me, she took me back so tenderly, arranging her dark skirts, her pockets full of lichens and seeds. I slept as never before, a stone on the riverbed, nothing between me and the white fire of the stars but my thoughts, and they floated light as moths among the branches of the perfect trees. All night I heard the small kingdoms breathing around me, the insects, and the birds who do their work in the darkness. All night I rose and fell, as if in water, grappling with a luminous doom. By morning I had vanished at least a dozen times into something better.
– Mary Oliver
I wish you all time and place and space to vanish into something better. May the trees shelter and breathe you once again.
Reflective poetry gives voice to musings about life. As I walk around Cronemiller Lake in Peavy Arboretum, my thoughts tumble about, touching on the past, the present, the future, the things that worry me, the things that confuse me, the things I long for, the things I ought to do.
It feels jumbled, directionless, unsettled. I need to sit. I need to breathe, slowly. I practice leaning into gratitude, allowing the layered impressions of life and radiance to swim together in the water that surrounds everything – fish beneath, duckweed floating on the surface, dragonflies and branches above. We are all water, we are all together in the flow, we are all reflecting the light of Life.
“Wonderful how I celebrate you and myself! How my thoughts play subtly at the spectacles around! How the clouds pass silently overhead! How the earth darts on and on! and how the sun, moon, stars, dart on and on! How the water sports and sings! (Surely it is alive!) How the trees rise and stand up—with strong trunks—with branches and leaves! (Surely there is something more in each of the trees—some living Soul.) O amazement of things! even the least particle! O spirituality of things!” ~ Walt Whitman, Song at Sunset
“The storm is out there and every one of us must eventually face the storm. When the storm comes, pray that it will shake you to your roots and break you wide-open. Being broken open by the storm is your only hope. When you are broken open you get to discover for the first time what is inside you. Some people never get to see what is inside them; what beauty, what strength, what truth and love. They were never broken open by the storm. So, don’t run from your pain — run into your pain. Let life’s storm shatter you.” ― Bryant McGill, Simple Reminders: Inspiration for Living Your Best Life
Have you ever been on a road trip and discovered that you were heading into a storm? Have you felt time hanging around you while your brain rifled through options? Do I change course…stop here…or go on? How bad could it be? How bad will it be? Do I trust myself to adapt to what I find and keep myself safe? Can I keep my car safe? What if I find others on the road who are not safe?
I have been parked under an overpass crowded with cars while a hailstorm ran over us. I have been parked at the side of the road while hail buried the windshield wipers and made them completely ineffective. I was not the one behind the wheel then. I once drove through a blizzard in Utah, talking the whole time to the passenger beside me. And on a perfectly calm summer day, I was in a car accident that killed my sister. I know myself when I’m worried, when I’m scared, when I’m braving through, and when I’m completely overwhelmed and having a panic attack. I’ve encountered myself on road trips. And I’ve encountered others. I am grateful to have learned some very important lessons about life, and safety, and kindness, and what is really important.
The storm is here. I am leaning into the lessons I’ve learned and keeping my hands steady on the wheel, my eyes locked on the horizon. I trust in a rainbow future.
Thank you, Beth of Wandering Dawgs, for joining the Lens-Artists host team. Your first challenge is inspiring! I look forward to more.
“Do your work, then step back. The only path to serenity.” ― Lao Tzu
“There are two ways to get enough. One is to continue to accumulate more and more. The other is to desire less.” ― G.K. Chesterton
“Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don’t resist them; that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like.” ― Lao Tzu
“The beauty of meditation is that you never know where you are, where you are going, what the end is.” ― J. Krishnamurti
scillagrace 