Are you looking for me? Wondering why there are no new blog entries?
I'm on the road, wandering, hiking, feeding my photo desires, absorbing the sights of Death Valley National Park. If you'd like to follow along as I travel, visit my journal
What's in a name?
A wet Saturday, a perfect excuse for relaxing...
My preference was for dry pavement to support a wander on my bike, but that just didn't happen today. It was a day for staying home, for walking with a camera through mostly dry air, for gathering camera and clothes for my escape (tomorrow) to the west coast.
Sometimes, just relaxing is good.
Ah, what fun! A new addition to SmugMug allows me to present a slide show in the world outside of my photo galleries. Enjoy!
My fingers wandered to the Bike Friday site earlier today, and while I was there I saw that Gaylynn had lost her long battle with cancer a little over a month ago. I received a card from her in early September; as it turns out that was just before her death. I was so awed by her words when I received the card, and I wanted to post something about it. And yet, it didn't feel like the right time.
I'd like to honor her memory now by publishing her words to me. I know that I will remember Gaylynn, her attitude, and her strength, and I hope that I can honor others as she did with her words and her acts.
Now my days grow small. Know that when you see a pink sunset I have painted it for you.- Gaylynn
It was a weekend for visiting, a time for remembering, a time for wandering with camera in hand (as always!), a time for laughing at Bailey's antics...
You haven't met Bailey yet? He's the crazy dachshund who runs my parents' house! (More photos of Bailey's antics can be seen in his own gallery from a visit last August.)
It was a driving afternoon. I started the weekend a little early, heading out at 2 PM in order to miss the Friday afternoon exodus (heading west) from Boston along the Mass Pike.
Gray was the color of the day, getting darker and darker, unusually dark given the time of day, until rain started falling. The rain stayed with me until western Massachusetts, when I was treated with an incredible view. Water stopped falling from the sky, and the mist started lifting. Waves of mist were still visible, with bright autumn colors popping underneath the mist, highlighting the trees. What a beautiful sight.
I have to admit, it took a lot of self-control for me to not give in to the desire to stop and attempt to capture some of that beauty with my camera. But oh, stopping on a limited access highway with cars flying by at 70 to 80 miles per hour is really not a good idea. And yes, I did behave (this time). Photographs are only available in my mind.
...bark, bark!
Do you talk to the animals? I do!
I can't tell you when I started having discussions with strange animals I've met on the road, but yes, I do talk to them. I was walking down a quiet street when I passed an occupied yard. A dog was happily wandering. He sensed my presence and started barking. I didn't stop walking. I looked in his direction, and said "bark, bark! dog, bark, bark!".
Funny... He looked at me, and he stopped barking.
Of course I'll never know if his bark was a greeting and if he would have stopped on his own. I think I'll continue talking to the animals.
My afterwork activity has switched from biking to walking. I almost switched back again this afternoon, but it's a good thing that I didn't.
I suppose that you could call me overly cautious, but I really don't like being on the road on my bicycle around the edges of daylight. Yes, there are really good lights available, but even those lights don't get past the setting sun in your eyes syndrome.
I headed out walking in full daylight. As I was looping back towards home, dusk was hovering. Ah - I think it's time to start adorning myself with my "walk in the dark bright blinking lights" again. Tomorrow...
...remembering, sorrow and smiles, memories, a life ended too soon.
Neal, you've been gone for six weeks now. It feels like yesterday, yet if feels like forever too. And you know what? You may not be here (in person), but you're here. You're still in my thoughts; I think that you always will be.
I look up to see a picture of you flash across the corner of my (computer) screen. Funny stories wander through my head, childhood memories... I think of the love pouring out from you and to you from so many people. I think of your children and the memories of you that I'm sure that they treasure. I try not to think of the pain you experienced for too long, and I feel sorrow at the thought that the only way that the pain was removed was death. I wish that you were here, yet I'm so glad that your pain is gone.
I think of you often. You're not here (physically), but you're with me. I remember...
