Posts Tagged ‘kith/kin

03
Mar
20

3.3.20 … “I cannot tell you how the light comes…”

“Solvitur Ambulando” – It is solved by walking, 2020 Lenten Labyrinth Walks (7/40 & 8/40), 2020 Labyrinth Walks, Myers Park United Methodist Church Francis Chapel – Charlotte NC, Hobart Park @ Davidson College – Davidson NC,

2020 Lenten Lists, kith/kin, poetry, Davidson College Women’s Basketball, A-10 Sports:

Today was a two-fer .

I drove to MPUPC in heavy rain and I forgot my umbrella. But that is precisely why we chose this indoor labyrinth.

My first labyrinth walk was with Mary in 2011 and I always like to include a walk with her during Lent. I arrived first, and I walked around the chapel by myself. I noticed the offering plates on the table in the front of the chapel with broken pieces of a white porcelain sculpture and was confused.

Mary walked in and we discussed that she had not realized that there was a permanent installation in the chapel. She handed me a poem that she had given to friends at luncheon recently.. We discussed poetry in general, but more on that later.

Mary had not walked the permanent installation in the Francis Chapel, so we walked around together. She too noted the arrangement on the table startled us. it was very intentional. There were three silver offering bowls with broken pieces of a sculpture. We decided to ask the receptionist. And she said they were a sculpture, but as of yet there was not any information about it. Mary and I returned to the chapel and looked again and realized that the pieces were a sculpture of Jesus. As Mary described them, “an offering of our brokenness.”

I also noted that the Chapel Bible was open to psalm 22-24:5

We began our walk, but I quickly realized that my patent leather flats were extremely noisy, so I went to the side and took off my shoes, and then I noticed my bare feet were slightly cold on the marble. But it made for a more peaceful walk.

The center is correct, 6 petals. I prayed the Lord’s Prayer today.

I have noticed this before, but this chapel is lit with primarily blue stained glass. I have to wonder why… Another project for me to research. And why is this chapel called the Francis chapel? Another research project.

This Labyrinth is a modified 7-circuit Chartres labyrinth. The only thing unusual is that there is one outer circuit that is a three-quarter circuit. I am always interested to see how a designer modifies the Chartres labyrinth from 11 circuits to six or seven. I am not sure I have seen one with a three-quarter circuit before.

At the end of my walk, I close my kairos time by circling the outside clockwise and re-entering chronos time.

We again look at the sculpture. It is very intentional. Jesus’ face in one and a hand in each of the others.

As we exit we noticed the brochure on the table … brokenness.

Afterwards, we spent an hour over coffee discussing life and difficult people. Mary it’s always good for my soul.

And I ended my day with the drive up to Davidson to spend the evening with my college roommate RuthAnn a.k.a. Rüfüs. She is one of my few friends who gets and enjoys labyrinths. We met at the one in Hobart Park at Davidson College. She is visiting the Durham area to officiate college swim meets. She actually drove 2 1/2 hours each way to visit with me and watch the women’s basketball game. She is a good friend and a good Davidson alum.

We walked and talked about this labyrinth as the sun went down. It was a very nice way to celebrate the end of the day. As we walked we discussed friends and family and books.

We continued our discussion over dinner and then we watched the Davidson College women’s basketball team beat LaSalle in the first round of the A10 basketball championship. Go Cats!

As I drove back from Davidson at 10 PM, I thought about what began my day. Poetry. Mary and I discussed this briefly and I made the comment that poetry really doesn’t speak to me, but that I was trying to learn to appreciate poetry. I remembered when Krista Tippit spoke at FPC she mentioned poetry. And I found this on her on being website: “ Poetry rises up in human societies when official words fail us and we lose sight of how to find our way back to one another. It has moved to the heart of what we offer on the radio and in podcasts, in digital spaces, and in gatherings.” Source: Poetry & Writing – The On Being Project, https://onbeing.org/poetry-and-writing/

So where am I experiencing poetry?

1. Mary handed me the poem “How the Light Comes” by Jan Richardson today when we met.

2. My friend Marty sent me a blog post about her parish priest.

As I enter this holy season of Lent, season of hunger, thirst, longing and hope, I have been rereading Lorca and finding some new meaning in the unsolvable problems of language. To be thinking anew of the “enduring metaphor” of yearning—an “arrow without target,” “evening without morning”—is to live aware of that space between what we can say and what we cannot, what we know and what we trust, what we desire and what we grieve. There is the instrument, the body, we can hold and there is the music—the love—we cannot quite. We’ll never fully get it, will we? But oh, that exquisite try, that artful essay, that poetry by which we live.

Source: Saint Stephen’s Episcopal Church: Wellspring: Poetry for the Journey, https://www.ststephensrva.org/reflect-learn/poetry-at-st-stephen-s/wellspring-poetry-for-the-journey/

3. Lynn McClintock, another fellow Davidsonian posted (but I could not find the online site.) I’ve copied the post below.

4. A new friend at Christmas upon receiving my gift of paper whites gave me a poem about paper whites. What a wonderful response to a gift.

5. Another college classmate shares poems with her close friends celebrating them on their 60th.

6. Memories of my dad reciting poems he had memorized as a child. I can’t drive through the north Georgia mountains without thinking of Sidney Lanier’s poem The Song Of The Chattahoochee:

Out of the hills of Habersham,

Down the valleys of Hall,

I hurry amain to reach the plain,

Run the rapid and leap the fall,

Split at the rock and together again,

Accept my bed, or narrow or wide,

And flee from folly on every side

With a lover’s pain to attain the plain

Far from the hills of Habersham,

Far from the valleys of Hall.

7. Certain passages in the Bible … and of course the Psalms.

8. And Rumi …

9. I regularly follow Maren Tirabassi, Parker Palmer and before her death Mary Oliver.

So I say I don’t hear poetry, but it certainly touches me. Thank you kith and kin who share with me the beauty of poetry.

3.3.20

From Lynn:

Beautiful reflection below by Richmond mindfulness teacher, Kay Davidson:

(It was long for a post, so I pasted it below as a comment.)

A POEM IS WORTH 1,000 WORDS

I have on my computer a collection of some 500 poems. Each was chosen for a reason. Sometimes a line may have captured my attention, like Mary Oliver’s “You do not have to be good” or sometimes I come across a phrase that deserves contemplation like Stanley Kunitz’s “Live in the layers, not on the litter.” Maybe I sensed a truth that I needed to hear (Patience with small detail makes perfect a large work, like the universe. Rumi Kapur) or was given a caution for a day that was to include unpleasant circumstances (There’s no use hiding it / What’s inside always leaks outside. Yunus Emre)

Then, there are those occasions when I need prompting to practice gratitude instead of complaining (Be glad your nose is on your face / not pasted on some other place / for if it were where it is not,/ you might dislike your nose a lot./ Imagine if your precious nose/were sandwiched in between your toes,/ that clearly would not be a treat / or you’d be forced to smell your feet. Jack Prelutsky)

When discouraged by my personal shortcomings, I can find empathy (Each time you judge yourself, you break your own heart. Bapuji), humor (You are a divine elephant with amnesia/ trying to live in an ant hole. Hafiz), solace in my common humanity (Remember that you are all people and that all people are you. Joy Harjo), or a reality check (In this short Life that only lasts an hour/ How much – how little – is within our power. Emily Dickinson)

This collection began to grow when I came to know how useful poetry can be when talking about mindfulness. Several of my meditation teachers quoted verse when giving dharma talks, and to me, the message of the talk was often deepened and made more memorable by the poem. There is something about the careful languaging of a poem — its brevity or its realness — that partners well with the principles of mindfulness. So, whether about the importance of slowing down enough to be present (Efficiency is not God’s highest goal for your life/neither is busyness. Rob Bell), being with the difficult aspects of life (Don’t turn your head. / Keep looking at the bandaged place. Rumi Kapur), or acknowledging how our minds are constantly buzzing and grasping (Everyone is overridden by thoughts;/ that’s why they have so much heartache and sorrow. Rumi Kapur) — poetry has a way to say it.

Of course, there is much more to poetry than a single line or a moving phrase. There is the sound and the rhythm of the words, the patterns and shape of the lines, the unfolding in successive phrases “…of necessary human information that cannot be communicated in any other way.” (Edward Hirsch, How to Read a Poem)

Consider these stanzas:

later that night

i held an atlas in my lap

ran my fingers across the whole world

and whispered

where does it hurt?

it answered

everywhere

everywhere

everywhere

— Warsan Shire.

Can’t you see it? A person, sitting by lamplight, large volume in her lap, tracing a map of the world, whispering to the world as a living thing. And as we engage with these words, we experience the rhythm of the repetition, the insistence of the italics, and maybe, as I do when reading this — especially out loud — feel a welling of compassion for all of those wounded places. Human information, indeed.

As in Warsan Shire’s stanzas, poetry often inspires me to practice what is most important in this life.

stop asking: Am I good enough?

Ask only:

Am I showing up

with love?

— Julia Fehrenbacher

And, in this category of remembering what’s important, I have to include Toyohiko Kagawa’s singular “Prayer”: May I never Yawn at Life.

With 500 poems to choose from, I could go on and on citing beautiful, meaningful, funny treasures from my collection. Those I’ve offered here are samples of words that have somehow spoken to me. I want to say they are words that have entered me. That’s how I know they are meant to be guidance on my path. And of course, what is meaningful can change over time. So I’ll include one last selection that has relevance to me at this stage of my life:

I pause in this moment at the beginning of my old age

and I say a prayer of gratitude for getting to this evening

a prayer for being here today, now, alive

in this life, in this evening, under this sky.

–David Budbill

Source: Lynn McClintock’s Facebook post.

03
Nov
19

11.3.19 … “In creation there is not only a Yes but also a No; not only a height but also an abyss; not only clarity but also obscurity; not only growth but also decay; not only opulence but also indigence; not only beauty but also ashes; not only beginning but also end. In the existence of man there are hours, days and years both bright and dark, success and failure, laughter and tears, youth and age, gain and loss, birth and sooner or later its inevitably corollary, death. In all this, creation praises its Creator and Lord even on its shadowy side.” – Karl Barth

“Solvitur Ambulando” – It is solved by walking, 2019 Labyrinth Walks, The Cathedral of St. Philip-Atlanta GA, kith/kin, Elizabeth Musser, When I Close My Eyes:

I just returned from 48 hours with some special friends from college. I have been immersed in love and friendship for 48 hours. So today, I chose a quick walk before going with my sister to a book signing for Elizabeth Musser’s new book…

Today is the first day of daylight savings time and I actually slept late feeling completely refreshed and woke up to full daylight. But now at 4:30 as the sun was getting low in the sky, it was time to walk. The light was perfect, and it was a beautiful crisp fall day. As I mentioned, I had just spent a delightful 48 hours with my Davidson College friends at the home of one friend who lives in Gainesville Georgia. As has become a routine, we talked, shared, hugged, encouraged and then went all our separate ways from one end of this country to the other. Every time I spend a weekend with them, my soul is restored.

As for my walk … Birds chirping… I loved the sun playing with the buildings, dancing in the trees … And I saw a sliver of the moon. What is the moon phase today? And then I saw a bed of blooming knock out rises. Do knock out roses forever bloom in the south?

And as for Elizabeth’s talk at the Atlanta History Center, I thoroughly enjoyed it. I’ve read her new book, “When I Close My Eyes“ (https://www.amazon.com/When-Close-My-Eyes-Novel/dp/0764234447) and recommend it. I was talking with someone and they said that they didn’t read Christian literature. Prior to reading Elizabeth’s books, I had not read much if it weren’t veiled in fantasy (think, CS Lewis, Madeleine L’Engle, Tolkien, Dante). But what is wrong with being challenged by Christian truths? Because of Elizabeth I have been introduced to another Christian fiction author, Sharon Garlough Brown. In addition, and I assume because I listed Elizabeth’s works as some of my favorites, I now get recommendations for other Christian writers. A funny one was a Christian writer of spy thrillers. When one was free, I actually read it and enjoyed it. Luanda Ehrlich’s Titus Ray Thrillers. I read Book I, “One Night in Tehran.”

And James Howell led me to this quote the other day …

“Light exists as well as shadow. Creation has not only a positive but also a negative side. It belongs to the essence of creaturely nature, and is indeed a mark of its perfection, that it has in fact this negative side. In creation there is not only a Yes but also a No; not only a height but also an abyss; not only clarity but also obscurity; not only growth but also decay; not only opulence but also indigence; not only beauty but also ashes; not only beginning but also end. In the existence of man there are hours, days and years both bright and dark, success and failure, laughter and tears, youth and age, gain and loss, birth and sooner or later its inevitably corollary, death. In all this, creation praises its Creator and Lord even on its shadowy side. For all we can tell, may not His creatures praise Him more mightily in humility than in exaltation, in need than in plenty, in fear than in joy? May not we ourselves praise Him more purely on bad days than on good, more surely in sorrow than in rejoicing, more truly in adversity than in progress? If there may be praise of God from the abyss, night and misfortune… how surprised we shall be, and how ashamed of so much unnecessary disquiet and discontent, once we are brought to realize that all creation both as light and shadow, including our own share in it, was laid on Jesus Christ, and that even though we did not see it, while we were shaking our heads that things were not very different, it sang the praise of God just as it was, and was therefore right and perfect.” – Karl Barth

11.3.19

01
Oct
19

10.1.19 … “All shall be well, and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well.” ― Julian of Norwich

“Solvitur Ambulando” – It is solved by walking, 2019 Labyrinth Walks, The Cathedral of St. Philip-Atlanta GA, kith/kin, Driving Mama Lindsey:

So this was a combo drive and walk. October 1 is my mother‘s 93rd birthday. Because of some serious dental issues, we are unable to celebrate in the usual Lindsey style. So my sister and brother and I tagteamed today. My sister met her for lunch and then I followed with a long car ride ending up at my brothers house for dinner. He then continued the evening with an episode of Father Brown… Hopefully, by Friday, the dental crises will be over and we can proceed with the usual Lindsey style celebration.

I began my time with my mother by telling her about my book study class at my church in Charlotte. I had attended by FaceTime today. She asked me what we discussed and I told her strangers in the Bible, redemptive strangers, strangers who bless then exit … no conversion, like the Magi. I read her this passage from Barbara Brown Taylor’s “Holy Envy”:

“This tradition of strangers bearing divine gifts begins early in the Bible with the story of Melchizedek, a Canaanite king and priest who comes out of nowhere bearing bread and wine for Abraham (then Abram) after a great battle. You can find it in Genesis 14 if you want, but since it is only four verses long you are also welcome to my summary. 

First Melchizedek blesses Abram in the name of the God Most High, whom he serves. At no point is there any discussion about whether Melchizedek’s God and Abram’s God are the same God. After blessing Abram, Melchizedek blesses God. In gratitude, Abram gives him a tenth of everything. Then Melchizedek exits the story as suddenly as he entered it, leaving Abram to become Abraham, the father of the Jews. The End. 

Though Jews and Christians have made much of this mysterious stranger, some going as far as offering up elaborate interpretations of Melchizedek’s identity in order to establish their own priority, the story needs no embellishment. As short as it is, the narrative already has a clear message in place: God works through religious strangers. For “reasons that will never be entirely clear, God sometimes sends people from outside a faith community to bless those inside of it. It does not seem to matter if the main characters understand God in the same way or call God by the same name. The divine blessing is effective, and the story goes on. 

Other examples of redemptive religious strangers in the first testament of the Bible include Bithiah, the Pharaoh’s daughter who plucked the baby Moses from his rush basket in the River Nile and raised him as her own; Jethro, the Midianite priest who was Moses’s father-in-law and teacher; Ruth, the Moabite who became the ancestor of King David; and Cyrus, the Persian king who ended the Babylonian exile and allowed the Jews to return home—the only non-Jew in the Bible who is ever identified as God’s anointed one.”

And then we headed off on our ride … Where to? Brookwood Hills. Because it was her birthday, I did not fuss when she wanted to drive straight down Peachtree Street…She really can’t see much but she still enjoys getting oriented as to space and talking about people and places.

And it was hot, hot, hot; so hot that you really still felt the heat inside the car with the air-conditioning turned on high. A Charlotte meteorologist refers to this as “Augtober!”

We enjoyed our usual spin through Brookwood Hills, noting that the house of our longtime neighbor, the last of those longtime neighbors, had sold between our last ride and now. Another end of an era.

And then heading back north, we circled through Peachtree Hills and Garden Hills, around the Duckpond, and back up to Peachtree. Looking up, I saw the Cathedral and asked my mom if she cared if I went for a Labyrinth Walk. I swear she responded, “Are you losing? “ Now granted I need to lose a little weight, but I thought my mom got the spiritual aspect, not the exercise aspect of my walks. She denied it later.

As I walked I noticed the irrigation sprinklers going. It almost made it feel cooler, but it really wasn’t any cooler. But there was a rainbow in the sprinkler mist, and that was uplifting.

Now back to our drive … Atlanta folks are just as silly as those in North Carolina. They have decorated for Halloween to the nines all over the city. One house on Habersham obviously had paid a landscaping/decorating company to put up their decorations. I wonder what that cost. I assume they do the same thing for Christmas

And then we just toured Buckhead. Most interesting to me was driving down Valley Road between Habersham and Northside. That’s another place I haven’t been in years and years. I think I was always enchanted by the creek that meandered along the street in front of the houses. I love the quaint driveway bridges that cross it.

“All shall be well, and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well.”

― Julian of Norwich

My mom still has an inquisitive mind and a joy of spending time with family and friends. I read her your notes on social media.

Then back to my brother’s house.

10.1.19

04
Sep
19

9.4.19 … “gratitude transforms the torment of memory into silent joy”

Today would have been my father’s 92nd birthday.

I am grateful for him everyday.

“Furthermore, the more beautiful and full the remembrances, the more difficult the separation. But gratitude transforms the torment of memory into silent joy. One bears what was lovely in the past not as a thorn, but as a precious gift deep within, a hidden treasure of which one can always be certain.” ~Dietrich Bonhoeffer

9.4.19

18
Aug
19

8.18.19 … Atlanta’s current population at the Darlington … 6,885,071

Driving Mama Lindsey …

So the brother is at the beach and I decided to take on Sunday with my mom. Nails, maybe? She vetoed that. But since I had already moved toward our favorite nail spot on Roswell near Mt. Paran, I drove across Mt. Paran to Northside, thinking and talking about families who have lived in that part of town. The Wayts lived there for a bit, and the Blacks forever, and the Everetts on Cave.

At Northside, I turned south and then decided to drive through Westminster. I went in the front gate and out the back. To be honest, the place has changed a great deal and is only barely recognizable as the place where I attended. I guess that’s what happens when you rarely visit.

Once on West Wesley we headed east and then at the last minute I drove down Bohler to Peachtree Battle. I don’t often drive along this stretch Peachtree Battle so I enjoyed this stretch along the creek and between Northside and Habersham. Once we crossed Northside, mom and I reminisced about my E. Rivers elementary friends who lived on PB or nearby … the Burdetts, the Smiths, the Sharps and family friends the Georges. And my favorite house, one I have never been in, which has lots of angles in the roof … it looks like a cottage. Then back by E. Rivers and south on Peachtree.

After crossing over the right, we swing into the shopping center that looks like Buckingham Palace where Aunt Jane’s shop was. So many memories.

Then to Brookwood Hills. Today we enter at Huntington and share stories about our friends on this street … the Wards, the Ingrams, the Fergusons… and the back by 139 …

On Peachtree we head north to Buckhead … checking out the current population … 6,885,071 …

My mom actually lived at the Darlington for a short period before she married. She roomed with a girl she had met at the boarding house behind First Presbyterian. Catherine Smith was her name, one of the few people mom lost track with fairly early in life.

And then back home … Andrews to W Paces to Valley to Habersham to Old Ivy to Wieuca to Peachtree …

8.18.19

14
Aug
19

8.14.19 … going to ride …

Driving Mama Lindsey –

Since I was in Atlanta, I joined mom for Wednesday night, something my sister does most weeks. I arrived in time for supper with her friends on the second floor. On Wednesday night, she usually plays bingo with her bingo crowd from her many years at Lenbrook. I, however, offered to take her on a car ride. I knew full well that that is one of her favorite things to do especially since it meant a couple of hours out of Lenbrook with me one on one.

So, we headed out about 6:15, and it was still quite hot and muggy. We turned south out of Lenbrook on Peachtree, something I repeatedly tell myself I will not do again, and so we spent a good deal of time in Lenox Square/Buckhead traffic … That always gives her a chance to comment on how much Atlanta has grown and all the tall buildings in the Lenox Square/Buckhead area.

When we finally got out of Buckhead traffic, which was south of Pharr Road, actually at the Cathedral, we began our usual banter about E. Rivers School, the Marsdens and their shop on Peachtree Street, and ultimately Piedmont Hospital and what in the world they are doing with that huge glass building…

At Piedmont Hospital, we turned onto Brighton Rd and immediately talked about the beautiful neighborhood, the many friends that we had had over 40 years as a family there, and, unfortunately, I had to remind her of several of our close friends and neighbors who had died in the last year, one being Betty Coley, who had lived there since the 70s and who with her husband Bob were some of my parents favorite people although significantly younger than they were, and PLiz Primm who died last month. We shared some great memories about these wonderful people who were also a lot of fun.

After passing by 139, we ventured around the bend where Brighton becomes Camden and then turned onto Wakefield and went by the Brookwood Hills Pool. When I was growing up in the 60s and 70s in the neighborhood, our house, as was true with many of the houses built in the 20s, did not have air conditioning. I reminded my mother how we would walk down to the pool after supper at 8 PM every night, swim for an hour, and then walk back home and go to bed. I laughed at the memory of dad walking up the Wakefield hill with me on his shoulders, never complaining.

We then headed north on Peachtree, wandering through Peachtree Hills, detouring on Sharondale by Judy and Joe Perry’s, back up E. Wesley with another detour by the Duck Pond, then by the Cathedral, wandering over to Habersham, and back to Lenbrook via the back route on Old Ivey.

… And after leaving mom, I ran into Mrs. Pentecost and her daughter Didi (Martha Jr.) who just recently returned from Chicago where they took train up (another type of ride). The Pentecosts were our Brighton Road neighbors for many years and definitely part of our story. Didi and her sister Claire just launched a book, “Spirit of the Water Bear,” a coming of age story in the very real and current context of climate change,

http://www.lulu.com/shop/claire-pentecost/spirit-of-the-water-bear/paperback/product-23989913.html. I plan to order a copy!

I’ve never thought about whether I like to “go to ride.” It’s something I always did with my grandparents as a child in the country or at the beach or at Christmas to see the decorations and now with my mom to share time and space and stories. But I realize now it’s how I learn and retell and revise my story. And I don’t really like to ride in the car.

Another pleasant evening …

8.14.19

12
Jul
19

7.12.19 … “And this is precisely the secret held by all those who go by foot: life is prolonged when you walk. Walking expands time rather than collapses it.” -Erling Kagge

“Solvitur Ambulando” – It is solved by walking, 2019 Labyrinth Walks, The Cathedral of St. Philip-Atlanta GA:

I have a lot going on right now. I have been in Atlanta helping my mom deal with some major dental issues. I never thought about it, but there is a useful life for teeth. And for my mom, 92 seems to be the number. It is not fun to deal with serious dental health issues at 92.

My sister had an appointment at Piedmont so I drove with her and decided I could use my time free time as quiet time … Iced coffee from Starbucks, labyrinth walk, and, if time permits, a visit to Richards Five and Dime.

I have secured my coffee, and a blueberry muffin, and I’m now sitting in the very hot sun, 89°, at The Cathedral. There is a magnolia tree in the distance that still has a few blooms on it, but most in this garden, are well past any blooms.

My thoughts wander to my three adult children and what they are doing. Jack is in Alaska and the temperature in Alaska has been breaking records. It was hotter in Anchorage AK last week than in Atlanta GA today. It hit the 90s for the first time in recorded history and in the lower 90s for three days in a row in McCarthy AK. And there are over 400 forest fires; so bad that Jack says the normally pristine air is hazy from the fires.

My son Edward is in Colorado and dealing with the ups and downs of relocation, finding a job, and how sometimes the world just doesn’t play into your hand. But, he is surrounded by good friends and has found a beautiful place to live, so I am hopeful that he will find a spot where he enjoys this period of his life.

And Molly, my daughter, is in Brooklyn. Last month she traveled to Ecuador and now she will work super hard and then have mini vacations to attend the weddings of two close friends in August and September. I think this wedding season will be different than when I was her age because each wedding, as a general rule, is unique. No longer does a bride go home to her childhood church and get married surrounded by her family and friends of childhood with a couple of additions from college, etc. instead, the couple often choose a venue that is special to them, a beach resort or a mountain venue or even a local park or venue near where the couple currently lives. It’s a different world.

Before I walk I took stock of my surroundings. As I mentioned, it was hot. And the birds were the most significant activity in the garden today. I enjoyed watching them fly from tree to tree and singing to each other.

I love this cartoon forwarded to me by a good Episcopalian friend. I wish I knew the cartoonist so I could give him/her credit.

I found this quote the other day…

“And this is precisely the secret held by all those who go by foot: life is prolonged when you walk. Walking expands time rather than collapses it.”

-Erling Kagge’s Walking: One Step at a Time (translated by Becky L. Crook, Pantheon)

I certainly believe that my walking expands time, rather than collapses it. I’m hoping my life is prolonged by my walks.

And I enjoyed Hamilton’s score today:

🎶Look around, look around at how lucky you are … to be alive right now … 🎶

And as for the goats … you’ll have to ask my brother.

7.12.19

and I found this …




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