'scene' along the way, birds, coping, courage, Cranes, finding my way, Florida wildlife, life goes on, live and learn, neccessities, perseverance, photography, reality check, unintended images

Staying home…

Even a non-news person couldn’t help but know about the coronavirus and the massive impact it’s causing around the world.  Yesterday was the day I realized that being able to get out and camp this summer might be out of the question.  This thought came to me over coffee, early in the morning.  But all day long the news kept finding me, online and on TV, and it was a no brainer by the end of the day.  And the closings just kept on coming this morning.  Life as we know it is on hold.  I’m lucky that I don’t think it will effect me financially, but even I can see what a blow to the economy this will be.  So, silly me, it will effect me one way or another.  Looks like I’ll be staying home a lot more, and probably posting a lot less.  For the moment at least.

But staying home doesn’t include avoiding the laundromat.  (I read the coronanvirus germ can’t survive the washing machine, though maybe I ought to wash in hot instead of cold).  As I pulled into my driveway I again had a big bird waiting to say hello.  Two of them I soon realized.  And this morning I heard that the Sandhill cranes in my former back yard are building a nest again.  I will look forward to visiting soon.  But this was a first here in my park, though I heard them the last couple of days.  Once you’ve heard them you’ll never forget it.  I had assumed that they were just flying over, now I’ll have to look for them if I hear them again.  I hope I do…03-13-20sandhillclose303-13-20sandhillclose03-13-20sandhillclose2

While I’ve been writing this I got a voicemail to inform me that the pool and hot tub in our park are closed until further notice.  I was just there yesterday, it was great, I’m a tiny bit sunburned.  While we were in the hot tub we were talking about all the closings.  Grandchildren were cancelling plans to visit, and someone’s granddaughter was supposed to be doing a semester at sea, but the boat had taken them back to Capetown, South Africa and they were to fly home from there.  Maybe I’m glad to be home, for now…

changing times, childhood, finding my way, growing old, life goes on, live and learn, memories, perseverance, photography

Marking time…

Lately I’ve been thinking about time, and how I’ve noticed the passing of time by different milestones over the years.  The first one that comes to mind was when we had vaccinations in school, I think in the third grade.  I remember telling myself that at least I didn’t have to have another one for three or four more years, I can’t remember which, but I told myself that it was okay because it was SUCH a long time away that the time would never pass.  That day would never come.  But of course it did.  And then there was the anticipation of being 16 and getting my drivers license.  By that time I did expect that the time really would pass, and the day would really come.  But really I hadn’t developed much more maturity because when it came to thinking about high school graduation I couldn’t imagine life after high school, so I wondered if it was a premonition that I would die young and wouldn’t have to face life after high school.  Fortunately I’m not psychic and that didn’t happen.

I think it was a quilted growth chart we saw at a recent quilt show that sent my mind down this path.  It was cute, the sort of thing you hang in a child’s room and note how much taller they are getting.  I never had one of those for my kids, but I remember being amused to realize that I could ‘see’ my son’s growth by how he no longer needed to stand on a stool to pee.  What an effective growth chart that was, while it lasted, until I was no longer needed in the bathroom.

I was 24 years old before I was legally old enough to vote, and I’m not sure I was ready before that age.  I anticipated my first opportunity to vote for President, voting for McGovern while living in CA but standing in solidarity with my home state of MA, and not much of anybody else.

I wished a lot of my life away in those young years.  Wishing the months away until the births of my kids, or my husband getting out of the Navy, and trying, and failing, to move back to New England.  I think I always had the feeling that life would be perfect if only the time would pass for these milestones to be reached.

Even now I’m not sure that I really appreciate each day that arrives with the sunrise every morning.  There are no more personal milestones to reach, that’s what grandchildren are for.  My own birthdays aren’t exactly a cause for celebration these days.  Now-a-days I’m marking time by refilling my weekly pill dispenser every five minutes, or so it seems. All the wishing time away in my youth may have caught up with me, finally, in these senior years.  I’m marking time one relentless week at a time, which I find annoying, but I suppose I should remind myself to be grateful each time I fill that darned thing back up.  One of these days it won’t be needed anymore, but for now please excuse me, because that’s exactly what I need to do next, or I’ll forget to take my medicine…


Thanks to Norman Rockwell, by way of Pinterest…

a second look, changing times, childhood, connections, coping, courage, death, faith, family, finding my way, friends, grief, growing old, healing, home, memories, perseverance, photography


An uncle came to stay with me once, I’m not even going to try to think of how long ago that was.  He was an academic all his life, a college guidance department head, which is probably why he phrased it as wanting to see my ‘nest’.  That that thought came to mind seems like a natural progression during this nesting season here in Florida, when birds are on my mind a lot of the time.  And somehow that phrase further brought to mind something my closest friend’s husband said to me once after visiting with them.  While I had always felt the closeness between this friend and myself, communication was not so easy in the days when we both had little kids, businesses to run, and lived 3000 miles apart.  So I invited myself to visit them after many years, and when he drove me to the airport to leave he said that we were ‘two peas in a pod’, and that it was a crying shame that we hadn’t been able to be part of each other’s daily lives all along.  On my way to see them on that visit I had said to myself that knowing myself I ought to be nervous, after all I was going to see people that I honestly didn’t know, but I wasn’t at all worried.  And from that first moment that I stepped back into my friend’s life, and home, I felt completely at ease.  More than that though, I felt like myself.  My true self, the ‘real’ me.  Silly, huh?  Who’s life was I leading all those years, living all over the country and raising my kids with only occasional visits to the place I continued to think of as home?  Those were happy years that I treasure, but there was a little part of me that felt alone.  No, apart.  Disconnected.  But not any more, not since I’ve made connections to the past, connections that are mine alone.  Little children that we once were, and who have lived such different lives, are now knowing and cherishing each other in this last part of life.  How we got here hardly matters, it’s just so wonderful to be here.


coping, courage, death, faith, family, finding my way, friends, grief, healing, life, life goes on, loneliness, marriage, memories, perseverance, photography, sunrise


It was a gloomy morning, which matched my gloomy mood.  Today we were saying goodbye to yet another friend.  Yet again I would see a dear friend taking her first steps down the slippery slope of widowhood.  I’m five years in at this point, and I now know just how long this process is, this adjusting to life on your own.  At first I found myself astounded that a week had passed, then two weeks, and then a month.  Time, it seemed was relentless.  Impossible as it seemed the days kept passing, and it all became a blur.  Something I recently heard on TV struck me, it made me look online for a quote so I could repeat it correctly.


Time is free, but it’s priceless.

You can’t own it, but you can use it.

You can spend it, but you can’t keep it.

Once you’ve lost it you can never get it back.

by Harvey MacKay

A silly poem from a friend warmed my heart and brightened this gloomy day for me.  I hope everyone takes time to let the people they care about know that they are loved.  Don’t waste your time, it’s precious…

'scene' along the way, a second look, birds, finding my way, Florida wildlife, making memories, nature, perseverance, photography, sky

Little birds…

The little birds in this case were found at John Chestnut Park the other day.  I had been to Anderson Park across the lake for the sunrise, and thought that a stop across the lake was probably a good idea also.  I had seen lots of little birds there in the past, but I saw seeds that someone had left on the railings and that’s what had the birds coming out of the foliage and into the light for photos.  I was a little disappointed because there were no seeds, and no little birds at first.  Then suddenly they were flitting everywhere.  The little bird above is a Yellow-rumped warbler.  I know this because my Merlin app told me.  And here we have a Blue-gray Gnat Catcher.02-03-20gnatcatcherThe little Palm warbler was hard to catch in a photo.02-03-20littlebird.jpgAnd I thought the Yellow-throated warbler was kind of flashy.02-03-20yellowthroat.jpg

It was a pretty morning, nice to see after a few days of rainy weather.  02-03-20view3.jpg02-03-20view.jpg

As I drove to the park I remembered the deer I’d seen the last time, and hoped I’d see one again.  I didn’t expect to see an entire herd of deer as I drove into the park.  They weren’t shy, well, the females and young ones weren’t shy.  The handsome one with antlers glowing in the light was gone in a flash.  I’ll look for him next time…02-03-20onedeer.jpg

'scene' along the way, finding my way, go with the flow, nature, perseverance, photography, sky, sunrise

Anderson Park sunrise…

My first thought was that it was early enough, maybe I ought to go back to the Dunedin causeway for the sunrise, but by the time I actually was headed down the road I realized that it was later than I thought.  I must have lost track of time, so I stopped at Anderson Park which was on the way.  And when I did that I remembered that they don’t open the gates until 7 AM, only 20 minutes before sunrise, but you could get to the boat ramp earlier, so that’s what I did.

As far as finding an east-facing view for the sunrise it’s a pretty good spot, if all you want in your shot is sky and water this is.  Oh there is an overhanging live oak tree just dripping with Spanish moss on the shore, but my attempts at shooting through the moss turned out less than stellar.  But it really was a pretty sunrise.02-03-20andersonsunrise02-03-20andersoniPhone02-03-20andersonsunrise2