Today being St Patrick’s Day I just had to post something green. The Great Blue herons are often seen quietly stalking the shallow waters looking for a fish to nab. You don’t really know excitement until you’re crossing a footbridge and a huge dinosaur sized bird with a six foot wingspan nearly knocks you into the water. However, when not buzzing about the heads of unsuspecting pedestrians they are quiet and graceful. They always bring me sense of peace and I love just sit and watch them wade the shore. They were a bit of a rare sight in the 70s and still considered endangered. We’ve got one that walks our property in the summer. I hear it call more than I see it. But just knowing it’s around somewhere gives me sense of peace.
Tag: landscape photography
Finding Home
It’s not about the size of room.
It’s not about the paint on the wall.
It’s not about the leaky roof or the creaky gate.
It’s being here with you that makes it home.
False Petroglyphs Of Summerville Lake
When I was a kid I was fascinated by petroglyphs. Being of the Indiana Jones generation, I wanted to be the one who cracked the code and uncovered ancient secrets. I just knew that there had to be a golden idol at the bottom of a cave close by. I would study the markings on the cliff and I could even see the hunters stalking some strange dinosaur. (Left side of the image behind the small bush. ) This had to be a map! Right? There’s a pod of dolphins in the center. And strange symbols throughout the whole thing!
The unfortunate thing about gaining knowledge is the loss of the adventure. What we see here is pretty common in my area. Painted Sandstone. The stone was formed when different colored mud ( in laymen terms ) came together and mixed, then turned to stone. The result was these wonderful patterns in the canyon wall of Summersville Lake that resemble some prehistoric record. There’s other spots like this and even some real petroglyphs but I haven’t found one that is as realistic as the one here. If you find yourself in the Summerville Lake area the best way to see them is by boat.
The Memory Of A River
From foundation of the world I came forth. Yes, I know the voice of God Almighty.
I remember the time before your ancestors came. And the time before those who first walked here.
As the ages passed this bounty was my joy to provide. My purpose in creation was providence.
I remember your laughter along my shores.
I know the names of every young boy who laid aside his responsibly to draw a fish from my waters.
I remember when your young maidens played and danced here.
I have worked without rest to deliver the boat and it’s cargo. My strength is yours to command.
I remember your struggles and the days when brother killed brother.
I remember the hard times when you had very little money and yet so much joy.
Today, I weep with you for I remember the things which you have forgotten.
Perhaps, if you can just put away your little black gazing box for a little while. Put it back in your pocket and pull the wires from your ears.
Gaze on my shores instead. Listen to the songs of birds and insects in the day. And, the frogs and crickets by night.
Do your legs remember running? Can you still feel the joy of racing the wind along my shores?
The melting ice will soon give way to a blanket of moss.
The warm sun will awaken the bloom and color will return.
Awaken yourself. Return to me. Come and play in my waters.
I am the River.
A Short walk in the park.
After yesterday’s post about the tragedy of the swan and loss I want to get back to my normal outlook on life. It might seem odd after writing about the need for community and companionship to then blog about how much I enjoy solitude but the secret is a life with balance. I have previously said that my highway to heaven is a dirt road. A nice forest path will do even better. Even if it’s a boardwalk in a park. Just escaping from the chaotic noise and replacing it with the song birds and occasional tree frog does wonderful things to my soul. The image above was taken in the Fall but in my heart it’s always Springtime in the forest. Just thinking about it brings me to a point where I can almost smell the earthy aroma of the moss growing on a fallen log. I can hear the scurrying of tiny feet in the dry leaves. Insects are buzzing about the trunks of the trees and as they pass through the filtered light their wings are backlit giving the impression of fairies living in the woods. For a moment there’s the thumping of a grouse beating the air to establish his territory. The breeze occasionally shifts and brings the scent of wildflowers. The chaos and clamor of so called modern life is a whole world away and there is peace. Just beyond the trail is a large rock or a log that is the perfect spot for sitting. Taking time to enjoy nature is like listening to God’s whispers.
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