New Year’s Eve. I’ve mostly ignored it, the hoopla and poopla I mean. Never traveled or celebrated, or even considered it a holiday really. I congratulated myself on being sensible, and not being out on the road and chancing the elements, or the other drivers. And I never gave a lot of thought as to what the new year actually might have in store. Never once considered the kinds of changes that 2014 had in store for me, even for those few years afterwards. But this year is different. For better or worse I’ve set a path for myself that may be unpredictable, but I know I can handle the bumps in the road. And I’m looking forward to lots of happy times. Now that the holidays are behind us I’m planning to light up my new year with the faces of friends that I haven’t seen in a long while. And some that I have seen but will always need to see again. It’s gonna be a very good year…
Month: December 2018
I left my heart…
My home was my world when I was a kid, even knowing that there were places out there out of view, I think I thought those places would look exactly like my world. I assume that kids see the world a little differently these days, even without traveling the world comes to us so vividly on TV and the computer. I never appreciated what was around me until it wasn’t around me anymore. I love the meandering stone walls that seem to be everywhere here. I’m told that the rocks were unearthed as farmers tilled their land, and so they were used to define their fields. They look quite random, like they just grew there on their own. And then there are the cranberry bogs, a familiar sight in my coastal New England travels. Massachusetts grows half the cranberry crop of the country, I know this since I googled it this morning, and they only grow in four other states. I didn’t realize how much I liked seeing them until I was away and then came back and saw them again. I didn’t stop for pictures the other day when the sun seemed to have this bog glowing, which is when it caught my eye. After a day of rain it was sunny yesterday so I finally figured out a place to park the car and stopped for a few minutes. Spotting scenes I’d like to take pictures of isn’t the problem, finding a place to pull the car over is the real issue. If I’m now a snowbird I can truthfully say that my two worlds look nothing alike. Florida has the sun and palm trees, and I love it. But New England has the charm, and my heart…
Winter…
The property to the left of the road belongs to my sister. I hadn’t ventured beyond the house before, thinking that there wasn’t much else beyond it since the street itself ended in a cut de sac right there. Oh I had seen pick up trucks turn into this road, I just hadn’t thought much about it. That there was a horse farm behind her property was something I’d heard, but I must have always been here in the summer when the woods back there appeared to be endless. Any truck heading down this little road would just disappear, swallowed up by the woods. If her dog hadn’t barked at any and all traffic I wouldn’t have known they’d come through at all. I think I might have heard a horse once or twice, but the other day I actually saw a couple of them. They were wearing blankets since it was so cold, and it was just a glimpse of them in the pasture, through the trees. There is no real point to this story since Ozzie didn’t see them, but if he had it would have been a much more exciting story, for him at least. And a PITA for me. He wouldn’t try to chase them, or even try to fit through the fence, but he’d happily stand there and bark his head off at them. I prefer him to keep a low profile so I can drink coffee on the deck and watch him wander unleashed.
I missed a few photo ops on the nice drive to the Nip the other day. It was a crisp, clear day with nice light. And now it’s been raining. All day yesterday, and it’s gloomy again today. And now I remember hating January. Gray, cold, boring, January. And it’s not even here yet. Once I get this snowbird thing straight I’ll be in lush, green, Florida at this time of year. Out photographing all the flowers and wildlife that also love to spend their winters there. But here I am, and yes, it’s gray, but I’ll finally be seeing my oldest, dearest friend today. Even lovely, warm, Florida can’t hold a candle to being with the people I love…
The Nip…
They called it The Nip. A small pond, as it was described to me by my old friend. Playmate really, since we were children when we last saw each other. Until a year ago when a Facebook fluke reconnected us. We took a ride to the Nip yesterday and I didn’t think it was so small. He described camping there as a boy. Canoeing and fishing also. There was a little beach too, but it was barely there yesterday. Someone had left a chair at the edge of the water, and they had a campfire set up and ready to go too. And there is an island out in the water also. Of course there is, what a perfect setting for childhood adventures. “Shh”, he said, but there may or may not be several beloved dogs buried on that island, but you didn’t hear that from me.
I moved away from the neighborhood we shared during the summer that I turned nine years old, so the memories made in that neighborhood stood alone to me. Wonderful memories of all the fun that we had. People our age know exactly what I’m talking about. But now I’m getting to hear about how the adventures continued on without me. I’m still seriously annoyed that I didn’t get to ride an inner tube for miles down the river, but I also missed the having to trudge those same miles carrying the inner tube home part. Maybe I left at the perfect time. Soon enough it wouldn’t have been appropriate for me to be tagging along on the adventures he was having. But it sure was fun while it lasted… He made sure I saw this before we decided we’d had enough of the cold. This was taken right there by the little beach. Mr. Darling was the principal of our elementary school when we went there, and to find that he was buried there was a surprise, to me at least. Apparently the fact that kids were out in nature and having adventures didn’t start with us…
Christmas, the day after…
I hate to admit this, but I remember thinking to myself, and in my memory I hear myself saying this in a very pouty voice, that now I had to wait 364 more days until Christmas would come again. What a brat, and I recognized it at the time which is why I remember having that thought, and have always been ashamed of that particular memory. What would have surprised me at the time, I think, is how the littlest things can make me so very happy these days. People make me happy these days. It’s a good feeling, like Christmas every day…I found a little place to view the water in West Yarmouth today, and a great sale at the LL Bean store. Now to get my little Lumix camera back to the proper settings. It takes great pictures, like this holly, but somehow I have it out of whack. It’s one of the things I was going to take care off after I retired, so what am I waiting for…
Merry Christmas…
I really have been dreaming of a white Christmas, and I was greeted with one this morning, with more snow expected later on. This trip has me reconnecting with friends and relatives that I haven’t seen in years, and that it’s happening at Christmas is a happy coincidence. I hope everyone’s heart is as full as mine is right now. I wish all the blessings of Christmas for each one of you.
And a photo or two for my nature photography friends back ‘home’. Home being the name for where ever I’m not I guess…
Note to self, take the tripod out with you for macro photography…