Rory Returns

It did my soul a bit of good to see the long awaited return of Rory Conlan to these hallowed pages.  While he's been absent for 19 months, I know for a fact that he did what he said he was going to do and engaged in the adventure.  It's really the tale of two walkers for the most part.  While I was off strolling through idyllic little towns that hosts boat shows like the one below, Rory was battling snakes.

Annapolis Harbor during the Sailboat Show 2015

When I say he was battling snakes, I'm not kidding.  The number of pictures of copperheads he's encountered on his jaunts this summer is stunning.  Frankly, I'm not really sure I want to be near him at all because he's like the Pied Piper of snakes.  Just yesterday, he encountered a little green bugger that should have been holed up for the autumn by now.

In addition to encountering more snakes than you can shake a stick at, he's come nose to tail with a number of skunks, braved rain, sleet, and blistering heat.  He's jumped into the adventure (at least the walking part) with both feet.  He's the buccaneer of our duo, the adventurer, the swashbuckler.  I like contemplating the meaning of sunsets.

Weems Creek, Annapolis at Sunset

He likes opining on the quantity of nightcrawlers and alligators he's seen. At any rate, it is good to have him back, and I believe him when he indicates he's going to contribute a bit more.  After all, he's got good stories to tell, and he'd really have to work at it to contribute too very much less.  Welcome back Rory, you've been gone far too long!

Rory hasn't died...despite what rumors might be circulating.

Well, about 19 months ago, I wrote that at the suggestion of a long-time friend, I intended to engage the adventure of a pilgrimage -- walking. Despite my absence from contribution to this blog, I have been working to that end. Undertaking disciplined walking, at more that casual distances, has been pretty broadening.   I'll be here more often.

Soooo, Yesterday I Might Have Been a Little Bit Cocky about what I Thought I Knew

Yesterday, I showed you a picture of the moon, and what I claimed, without really researching it at all, was the planet Venus.  I then attempted to show my mad internets skillz and talked about the history of calling Venus the morning star.  You can imagine my surprise while I was walking this morning, I looked up and saw this greet me from the east.

The Moon and not one but two planets (I assumed), but which
one is Venus  (I hope) and what the heck is the other one

This shook my confidence in my assumptions from yesterday, and it should have.

After capturing the shot for today's missive, I set out to try to determine if I had guessed correctly yesterday, and to determine what the other celestial body was cluttering up my eloquence with facts.  These folks at earthsky.org helped me clear up my ignorance.

It turns out that I, very luckily, correctly identified the planet Venus that appeared to the lower left of the moon as Venus.  Today, the planets that greeted me just before sunrise were Jupiter (the one on the lower left today) and to the upper right was Venus.

I suggested yesterday that I thought one should not let school stand in the way of education.  I guess it's time to add ignorant assumptions as potential impediments to my education as well.  Live and learn...walk and keep looking.

Don't Ever Let School Stand in the Way of Your Education

Though the title of this post might imply that I may place a value on schooling that is not in alignment with some of my peers, I can assure you that is not my mindset.  One of the things that I've grown to appreciate that has come as a result of my walking is that I've developed a curiosity about the things I observe more than I have in the past.

That curiosity leads me to research, and thanks to the wonders of technology, that research brings the equivalent of a great many volumes of information and data to my house with the stroke of a key or the click of a mouse.  Good old Johannes Gutenberg, the innovator who combined movable type, oil based inks, a wooden press, and adjustable moulds leading to the modern era of a knowledged based economy would be marveled to the point of declaring the internet pur sorcery.  He even has an entire website containing a body of knowledge that rivaled the best libraries through the ages leading up to his contemporaneous time.  It's called The Gutenberg Project, and I recommend that you peruse one or two of the over 50,000 eBooks that it offers to users for free.  We live in magnificent times.

The Moon and "Morning Star"

I snapped this photo today with my cellular phone of the Moon and Venus or "The Morning Star" rising just above the eastern horizon.  Forgetting for just a moment how spectacular it is to capture this high quality image on something that has a lens a little smaller in diameter than a small marble and the processing power fits in a palm sized computer that has more calculation power than the computers that accompanied the Apollo missions to land on the moon, snapping this photo led me to wonder just why exactly Venus is called the morning star.  It turns out that there are a number of explanations, but the one I like is the theory that the planet was regarded by South and Central American cultures as the bringer of light, and they had a whole section of their calendar dedicated to the appearance of the planet in the morning or evening sky.  

Thus, the term morning or evening star can be used to describe venus.  It's also interesting that they considered the 20 day cycle of Venus to equate to the cycle of life.

I hope to live long enough to see the generations that follow me return to spaceflight that gets a bit farther out into the universe than the more recent low earth orbit missions that have defined my childhood.  That would mean that my generation served some role as the bridge keepers to the entrance into one of the finest epochs of man.

Severn River Bridge at Night (That's why it's so dark)

I really enjoyed the journey, from the jungles of the Amazonia basin to the cold vacuum of space, that my walking today took me along.  More tomorrow if I'm lucky.

Always carry some coins in your pocket...right hand toss over your left shoulder is the key

On my afternoon jaunt today, I happened to take a left at an intersection where I normally go straight, and it led me to a place that I've probably passed over a hundred times and never really noticed.  I know, I know, I've been encouraging observation and drinking in the moment.  It's a good speech, but in practice a distance of only a few meters can make a difference.  The thing that I discovered, that's been hiding in plain sight since 1898 is the Neptune Fountain in front of the Jefferson Building of the Library of Congress.

King Neptune, Centerpiece of the Neptune Fountain

When I saw this fountain, I was immediately struck by how similar it looked compared to the Trevi Fountain in Rome, Italy.  The size and scope of the Neptune Fountain is far less extensive than the Trevi Fountain, but the overall layout and symbolism seemed to fit.  I was fortunate enough to see the Trevi Fountain on two separate occasions when work travel took me to Italy.  It turns out that the sculptor who built the Neptune Fountain had studied in Europe and readily proclaimed that he had modeled the fountain in part on it's counterpart, the Trevi.

Neptune, a Triton, and two Nereids (sea nymphs) riding horses

I immediately did a quick pat down of my pocket for coins because the legend associated with the Trevi Fountain holds that a coin tossed over the left shoulder with the right hand of a person facing away from the fountain will ensure a return trip to Rome.  There are other legends about two and three coins, but without one you can't even get started.  Sadly, I was not able to make a coin materialize in spite of my best efforts, and I left with no promise of return.

I guess the moral of the story is that one should not be caught without a cent to their name because one never knows when a chance at a very small investment might change the course of your life.

Every Moment is a Unique Act of Creation

I suspect I've touched on this topic in the past, but frankly, I'm just too lazy to go back through the history to try to figure out just how thoroughly it has already been covered.  It actually feels pretty good to have a situation that I'd have to use the search function to find out just how much I've written, but that's a different story for a different day.

The demonstrable fact that every moment (day, year, nanosecond, month, whatever measure of time you decide to use here) is a unique act of creation is important enough to discuss again.  I'll attempt to demonstrate the point with some pictures that are "the same" as the ones I shared with you, dear reader, yesterday.

Capitol Hill Sunrise

I took this picture at about the same time of day of the same building as the one I took and shared yesterday, but even a cursory glance will tell you that these are entirely separate and distinct events.  The perspective is from the opposite corner of the building.  Google Photos has executed the magic of Google processing in a completely different way.  I was in a different space, in different weather, and I had a completely different reaction both taking the photo and seeing the results google delivered.  To be honest, I have more of an affinity for yesterday's photo, but this one is intriguing as well.

Anacostia River Sunset

This picture, taken of the Anacostia River at around sunset yielded similarly completely different results from the one yesterday as well.

One of the things about life that I've discovered while slowing down a little and walking is that, in the past, I would pass what on the surface appeared to be "the same" scene without ever truly appreciating just how different the manifestations of life were moment to moment.  As I became more conscious of the truly spectacular and unique creative processes at work to produce the blink of an eye or a second in time, I began to exercise my desire to observe. 

This level of observation also gave way to the realization that the conventional wisdom on the topic of time that says the past is over and done, the future is a fantasy, grab hold and live in the moment is a much more fulfilling discipline of life to pursue.  Given the habits I've learned, it is a difficult task to remain present.  I find myself mulling over the past, or needlessly worrying about what might or might not happen next week.  If I'm honest with myself, I don't think I've predicted what is going to unfold in the future one single solitary time in my entire life.  I've gotten close on a number of occasions, but even when I did, things would probably have been more enriching if I had allowed myself to be surprised by the reality instead of the less than colorful guess that kind of, not really, mostly came to pass.

In order to to get completely philosophical here, and in order not to be accused of boring you with the same pictures day in and day out, I'll leave you with one final shot that I came across this morning.  Again, on the surface without pondering the meaning too much, this is a photo of some badly done graffiti on the southwest bridge abutment of I-395 where it crosses 4th Street, SE in DC.  Though poorly rendered the words that are written represent what I believe are a heartfelt, funny, and warm expression of love.

Badly rendered graffiti with a heartwarming message of fondness

Molly is an extremely lucky person.  She is loved by someone enough for that feeling of closeness to be rendered in red spray paint, at great risk to the renderer of spending some time in the DC pokey, on a bridge.  The admirer loves deeply, for while I understand a feeling of fondness that outstrips fondness for puppies, sunshine, beer, and even HBO, the placement on a pedestal above the experience that is Eastern Market is truly a wonderful expression of closeness.

Every place and every moment that you find yourself is exactly the place you were meant to be in that instant.

 

You might be spending too much time at work...

if your day begins before the sun fully rises over the Capitol Building.

Capitol Hill Sunrise

You know for a fact that you're spending too much time at work if the same day ends in a glorious sunset just down the hill in the Anacostia River valley.

Anacostia River Sunset

As long as today ended up being, these moments where I manage to successfully place myself in the path of beauty are the highlight of my day.  They make the little irksome things that happen in the place where I earn my living, the angst of the 34 mile commute, and the uncertainty that goes with the job fade away just like the setting of the sun.

No matter what happens during the day, with any kind of luck there will be another sunrise tomorrow, and the end of the day will always arrive no matter how hard you work to resist the great cosmic clockwork.

These are the moments that I like to put myself in front of, especially if the arc of the sun in between them has been a bit trying.  Put yourself in the way of beauty, and it will come to inhabit your life.

A New Year Begins, and Fall Settles In

Today, I started off the walking year with a visit to a man who I believe may be eventually remembered as one of the great American sculptors of this era.  He is just finishing up a bust of David rendered in Italian marble that he's been working on for just about the same time as I've been walking regularly.  The bust is stunningly beautiful, and it has been imbued with a number of symbolic features that challenge the viewer to think about the role of mankind in the universe, spirituality, religiosity, and the connection between God and man.  The sculptor is a man with a vision, and I'm grateful to have seen his work before striking off on this year's journey.  It has given me some things to contemplate.

Fall appears to have settled in and settled in quickly.  It comes on the heels of Hurricane Joaquin which tracked out to sea and did not follow the path up the Chesapeake Bay that Hurricane Isabel did in 2003. The temperature has cooled, we've seen a bit of rain, and the squirrels (among others) are gathering provisions for the coming winter.

Leaves on the Baltimore Annapolis Trail

I'm sure we'll have some warm days in the coming weeks, but the feel in the air to me is that summer has broken and we're headed into a period of consolidation before winter is upon us.  I'm mostly prepared as far as clothing goes for the walking that will follow the season, but I do need to get some new gloves relatively soon.  I'm missing one medium weight glove, and my lightweight ones are beginning to show a bit of wear.

Blue Heron Aloft over the Severn River

The sky has taken on the characteristic overcast grey of the season, and the daylight seems to be retreating at a noticeably rapid rate.

While I am not entirely grieved to see some relief from the heat which was a factor in planning to walk up until about two or three weeks ago, I'm not entirely sure I'm ready for the cold of the winter.  Having weathered it once last year, I know that there is goodness in the frozen ground, but it's something that I hope arrives and moves on relatively quickly.

I suppose that my mood at the moment mirrors a bit of the greyness of the day.  Change is constant, but that does not mean that it's easy.  We'll see what tomorrow brings.