Summer Solstice

Sunset of the Summer Solstice - Yorkville, IL

The Summer Solstice wrapped up today with a sunset befitting of the longest day of 2019. Though the weather here is still quite temperate, spring has come and gone, and we’re into the second season of our three season pilgrimage.

This passing of the torch from spring to summer is a good reminder that though we may resist the idea of change, it is one of the great constants that swirl around our every moment on this beautiful planet as part of this magical life.

To resist change is to resist the very nature of life itself, for without change, the great creativity of the powers of the Universe would cease to create. With change curtailed to nothingness, creativity and life itself would soon follow.

Sunsets serve as a stark reminder of this universal and immutable truth. Each one is unique, and though their themes may rhyme, the manifestation is much more like jazz than a scale. Theme and variation are part and parcel to the very fabric of life itself.  

Change is always afoot, and it’s been good to sit back and take notice.

Becoming Unstuck

I found myself reflecting on the concept of being stuck over the last several days. I've been coming through the process of becoming unstuck through the evolution of the last weeks events. It's difficult. It's difficult because the uncertainty that has always existed around me is now undeniably revealed, and I'm finding the process a little bit unnerving.

One thing that's kept me focused on what I believe is the right path has been my reliance on my daily practice. Today, I realized that I had seven items to move past, and even though I hadn't planned how that would play out, I found the items and got rid of them.

Minimalism - Day 7 - Alabama

I've been carrying all of these items around with me in my luggage for a minimum of three months. The oldest item is from well over a year ago. When I realized I hadn't planned my divestment earlier this afternoon, I was a bit worried that I'd be able to find seven things that I was ready to let go. Once I started, it only took a few minutes, and I only had to look in two locations to find them.

This small act of moving forward in the face of unexpected uncertainty has become a model, in my mind, for the change that's about to occur as I become unstuck from the familiar.

Additionally, I stuck with my calisthenics, and furthered the practice of letting go of some of my ties to my work. It felt a bit like leaning into discomfort, but the process of taking that step is getting easier.

I'm rambling now, so I think I'll wrap up.  I'm looking forward to the adventure of tomorrow.

Contemplating Conciousness

Earlier this evening, I wondered a bit about the apparent magic that constitutes life and consciousness. It's not a new pondering for humans. My thoughts represent nothing particularly creative. I wondered if my body is merely the armor that surrounds and sustains a dream. We have science and religion, but I don't think that either of those areas of study really get to the heart of what it means to be alive. To experience this dream.

Is it a firing of electrons due to chemical reactions, or does it have a more supernatural origin. If life is a dream or imagination or work of art, what is behind any of these explanation of my individual experience of the world? I don't know.

I know that I feel grateful I can experience the unfolding of living and loss. I'm grateful I can bear witness to the ever present change that gives every appearance of progressing toward something that is greater than anything that has come before now. To understand both the sadness and the hope when familiar locations move through time and space and vanish as if they were never there in the first place.

USS Barry on the Anacostia - Aft Mast Removed

The slow transition of the Barry is an example of the relentless march of change. The hopes, dreams, work, angst, tears, joy, sunrises, sunsets, wind, calm, heat, cold, dark, and burning light that has passed over and through this great ship, this magnificent monument to the ingenuity and determination of humans is almost unfathomable. The ship gives the impression of solidity, but molecular science tells us that it's mostly empty space. With all that the ship has witnessed, she's slowing being undone by time and change.  Today, her aft mast had been removed in preparation for her last trip down the Potomac. The work was done by a crane that I last crossed paths with over ten years ago in another time, another place, another set of feelings. Venice, LA had been wrecked by Hurricane Katrina. Our group butted heads with the sheriff of  Plaquemines Parish. The crane moved the mangled shrimp boats out of the bayou and back to the river so folks could start rebuilding their lives. We worked and laughed and saw everyday the grim reminder of our powerlessness in the universe. We persisted, and things got a little better.

Today was the twelfth day of moving things out of my life that I no longer value in the same way that I once valued them.

Minimalism Day 12

Some clothes and some books that all meant something special to me at one time have suffered the same march of change that's happening to the USS Barry. These things have passed through me and with me in my travels in time and space. I carry the memories of the text in my dreams. The thoughts on the page continue to spark my imaginings of the future.

In the final accounting, I suspect that the best any of us can hope for is to bear witness to the wonder that is unfolding around us in every moment. These things were, at one time, a tangible part of that great unfolding, but for me those moments have passed.

Like the sailors who walked the decks of the Barry, time, tide, and formation have shifted. The young man in the gun came back and visited to see the place that had shaped his life a long time ago and a world away on the gunline off the coast of Vietnam or quarantine enforcement in the Caribbean Sea during the Cuban Missile Crisis.

I'm not sure what change tomorrow may bring, but I hope to be ready for whatever the sunrise may reveal.

Remembering Change

One of the things that I really appreciate about walking the same, or at least very similar routes, every day for over a year was that I could observe the change that was happening along the route in a tangible way.  I've really missed that element of watching things unfold in daily snapshots of time.

Anacostia Sunset

Today I made my way down to the Anacostia waterfront for the first time in weeks. At the time of my injury almost five weeks ago, the crane in the foreground of this picture was just starting to put the structure on pilings that had been set in the bank of the river. The rumor circulating was that the pilings were being installed to support a dock for a water taxi service. Over the past five weeks, a great deal of progress has been made, and it appears to my semi-trained eye that the project is nearing completion.

I don't know if the dock that's being built will service water taxis or not, but there are at least four and possibly five or six floating boat slips that have been built. I envisioned a single pier jutting out into the river, but it seems that the project is just a bit more ambitious that I imagined. The change that I saw today gives me pause to wonder about the other things that have been progressing during my diminished ambulatory capacity.

I'm getting restless. According to the doctors, I should be able to come out of the walking boot this coming Thursday and ease back into a more active lifestyle. The rest has been beneficial, and I have used the time to progress other areas of my daily practice, but I'm becoming more anxious to get back on the trail again. I wonder if the scaffolding around the Capitol Dome has been removed. That was scheduled to happen this winter, and I had great plans to capture the progress. I hope I haven't missed all of that action because if history is any guide it won't happen again for another five decades or so. We shall see. 

Although there have been obvious changes, some things remain relatively constant, and there is a certain amount of comfort in the fact that I haven't missed all the big developments along the river.

Anacostia Evening with the ex-USS Barry

The USS Barry is still keeping it's three decade watch over the Washington Navy Yard. This silent sentinel is scheduled to be retired someday in the not too distant future. Today, or the intervening five weeks, wasn't that day. With any manner of good fortune, I'll be able to watch that project progress on a more routine basis as I return to my walking on the Anacostia River Trail.

As always, I'm looking forward to what tomorrow my have in store.

Testing Boundaries

Today, I made a bit more progress testing some boundaries by challenging some assumptions about the arc of my life going forward that I've managed to fall into the habit of believing over the last several years. For whatever reason, a new energy has begun to emerge. I always believed that I was a relatively optimistic person, but even that aspect of my outlook has improved. As far as testing boundaries, all I really have done is begin to take small steps away from some unconscious assumptions that I may have been harboring. These steps aren't long or far reaching, but just a little bit of change has improved my outlook and resulted in a new sense of invigoration.

Looking forward to what tomorrow may reveal. 

A Changed Approach has Resulted in Unexpected Breakthroughs

A couple of different mental exercises that I've been fussing around with over the last several weeks have been yielding some unexpected and apparently positive (so far anyway) results. Quite a bit of this change has been "forced" upon me by the foot injury, but some of it has been a conscious decision to pursue something quite a bit different from my routine.

The change that's been introduced from the outside has been welcome. Of course this welcoming outlook did not happen initially, but like most change imposed from outside I've come to terms with it.  That aspect of the differing routine is not particularly interesting to me since it is largely the "same old, same old" story of adaptation to my environment.

The deliberate decision making that led to chasing after something completely different has been the much more interesting, and frankly, rewarding process. I'm really not completely clear on why over the last several weeks I decided to begin some relatively simple experiments. Some of it was my exposure over the last several months to the TED Talks. Some of it was borne of frustration with situations that I don't have much influence and almost zero control over how the outcome plays out. Some of it was generated  from a re-emerging foundation of "playful" adventure that has been left to atrophy over the course of some challenging times.

One thing that I've observed as this reawakening has been manifesting itself is that it is building on some of the very foundational changes that have arisen out of the more disciplined routines that I developed over the last year or so.  Those routines have laid in an infrastructure from which this more fun-filled approach to leaning my shoulder into the experience of living can draw experience and sustenance as I peek out fomr behind some of the berms that I've accumulated in the past.

It's really been rewarding and fun, and it's given me a renewed sense of confidence moving forward. I don't know what the outcomes will be, but I believe that I'm prepared to meet them as they unfold.

Memorializing War and Some Thoughts on Priorities

Earlier this afternoon, I was just starting out with my walk with a little side jaunt through Admiral Willard Park at the Washington Navy Yard.  There are a number of interesting displays of ordnance, armor, the titanium pressure sphere from the deep submersible Alvin, guns, and a propeller or three.  One of the major pieces on display is the Mk 1, 14"/50 caliber railway gun pictured below:

Mk 1, 14"/50 Caliber Railway Gun used in France during WWI around 1918

This gun is one of eight produced at the Washington Navy Yard of eleven Mk 1 naval railway guns built for service during WWI.  Five of these guns saw combat action in France near the end of WWI.  The other six guns were delivered to the Army, and were never deployed in combat operations.  

This gun, without a doubt is an impressive memorial to the engineering and production techniques that were employed near the beginning of the 20th century, but seeing it here caused me to ponder the things that we as a society choose to memorialize.  Washington, DC is a city that is full of memorials, and all of them are impressive displays of accomplishment.  I do think it's worth noting that many of these memorials center around keeping the memory of one war or another alive in the minds of the viewers.

This large volume of memorialization of activities and equipment associated with war is not inherently bad, but I think the sheer number may represent a level of imbalance that I'm not entirely comfortable with given some of my life experiences. 

While it is possible to find memorials to US accomplishments in the area of space exploration (for instance), one has to go searching for these memorials.  For the most part, they're located in the Smithsonian Air and Space Museums (both the Jefferson Street facility and the larger hangar at Dulles Airport) and to a lesser degree at the Smithsonian Museum of American History.  Again, this is not necessarily bad, but I do believe that our initial forays (and they are very embryonic at this stage of development) into space will likely prove more valuable in ensuring our security and survival of a species than their current under-representation in the public memorials currently recognize.

I can't help but wonder what sort of challenge is going to have to manifest itself for our country and international partners to renew and reinvigorate the pioneer spirit that contributed to the founding of this nation and once again truly stretch our legs towards the stars.

Like walking, this interest that I have with manned space travel just doesn't seem to be waning.  Like the walking, on the surface, this appears to be a relatively "crazy" idea for one person to choose to joust at windmills over.  Like walking, the idea just won't go away.  I'm concerned that it's a pretty big hill to climb, but I'm also concerned that it's getting to the point that I may have to do something about this thought...this notion...this crazy idea that just won't go away.

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.

Change

The first trip I made to Southeast Washington, DC happened in the late summer of 1992.  It was a bit of tumultuous time in my life, so I'm not sure my impressions were entirely warranted, but the overall feel was one of rowdy desperation.  The storefronts seemed to be a repeating pattern of strip club, liquor store, gas station, pawn shop, liquor store, pawn shop, strip club, etc.

That is not the environment that is prevalent in the area today.  Southeast has changed.  It has been a bit of a hard slog, but the grittiness and crime in the area has been replaced with high end office buildings, a town center like atmosphere, some wonderful parks, and the Anacostia Riverwalk Trail.  The Nationals have built a new stadium, and trendy restaurants abound.  There's even a wading pool and an ice rink during the winter.

Department of Transportation Ocean and Air Transportation sculpture

Several major government activities moved into the area including the Department of Transportation and an increase in presence of the United States Navy at the Washington Navy Yard.

Closer view of the Ocean and Air Transportation Sculpture

The transformation this area of the city has undergone over the last twenty years of so is truly amazing.  That change involved vision and tenacity and hard work.  It also involved investment, planning, and hard headed dedication.

Seeing the results of all that effort is a great reminder that although change is hard, it is often worth the work required to see it through.  Change is also inevitable, so more often than not it's just better to get on with it.

Reflecting on Baseball

There I am...the guy on the street in a neon yellow shirt...reflected in the surface of an oversized baseball decorating Nationals Park, Southeast Washington, DC.

Shorter Days and a Hint of Fall

In keeping with the theme of change from the last several days, this morning's walk was truly a glorious weather related experience.  On a whim, I threw a long sleeved UA Heatgear shirt in my bag, and it was just about perfect for the fifty five degree temperatures that greeted me as I struck off along the river.  In the last couple of weeks, the darkness of the early morning has been growing noticeably deeper and longer lived.  

Although that sign of a waning summer has been incrementally growing in magnitude, the warmth of the previous afternoon and the damp mugginess that comes when you build a city on a wetland (i.e. swamp) at the confluence of two rivers had persisted.  Today was the first day that the deep breathing of summer heat grew shallower and less stifling.

Sol rises cooly over the Capitol dome from the steps of the National Art Gallery

The transition from the foggy elephant like sauna of the summer has broken.  Oh, I'm sure that it will come back again for another round or two, but as of today the irreversible march of the season toward fall came out of the blocks and lept forward with a welcome burst of acceleration.  The signs that a mere twelve weeks from now I will have made the transition from summer weight exercise gear to the warmer embrace of long sleeved tops and fleece watch caps accompanied by the rustle of fading leaves and a brisk north wind were evident.

Of all the seasonal transitions, I find the movement of the northern pole of our planet away from the life giving flux of the sun most pleasant.  It ushers in the deep chill of the winter, but these next several weeks are some of my favorite time of year.  There's a nip in the air that is gently pushed back by a warm afternoon, but the air is much drier.  Every day is the best day of my life, but I particularly look forward to the weather associated with the coming weeks.

  

Four Bridges Loop

Yesterday, I was trudging through my walk thinking that I could do with a change of scenery.  I had made a bit of a ramble out of the morning walk which was a welcome change, but that little taste of a different perspective didn't quench the desire to see a different view of my normal routes.  It's not that things were getting boring.  As I talked about yesterday, every moment of every day is truly an act of creation, so boredom really isn't possible.  I guess the real reason is that the mind, as useful as it is, sometimes gets a bit pragmatic and begins to filter out those things that are more routine than others.  It's a very useful trait for physical survival, but I find that I'll get to be a bit less observant and 'in the moment" than I'd like to be living.

It dawned on me yesterday that there are four bridges in relatively close proximity to each other that cross College Creek in Annapolis.  I'm not sure when the moniker of this body of water was changed, but even today some maps refer to it as Dorsey Creek.  It's a bit of research that I'll have to undertake...just not right now.

After some quick math, I calculated that the route over the four bridges would be between five and six miles with some obvious on ramps and off ramps along the way, so I decided to conduct a bit of pedestrian experimentation this morning.  One of the real advantages to walking known routes is that the timing and distance are known quantities, so this was going to be a very small leap into uncertainty, and that was just what I needed to re-direct my routine.

Bridge placards from the four bridges over College Creek, Annapolis, MD

The route went well.  Based on the turns that I made, the entire loop (shaped like a ladder back and forth across the creek) amounted to a little over six miles.  I was pretty excited starting out, and even though I'd passed all these bridge placards at one time or another, I didn't know where to find them all.  I happened across the first two, and I sought out the next.  It sounds pretty routing, but it ended up being just the sort of thing I needed to add just a twist of adventure to my pedestrian routine.  The change of route changed my perspective just enough and reignited my observational focus.  The changed route also made the prospect of writing this posting just a bit more exciting than it has been in the last several days.

Hubbard Hall looking downstream from the County Bridge on King George Street

I even gave Google Photos the chance to make panoramic views looking upstream and downstream from all four bridges.  I got lucky, but not as lucky as I would have liked, when it put together both upstream and downstream views from the County Bridge on King George Street.  It's a fortunate location because it is the most photogenic place along the route to see all four bridges from one location over the course of the route due to the geography of the stream.  You can see all four bridges from Hill Bridge as well, but the vantage point is not quite as good in my opinion.

College Creek Bridge on Rowe Boulevard looking upstream from the County Bridge on King George Street

All in all it was a good, if slow, walk this morning that serves an important reminder that the way I act can change the way I think about a particular topic.  In this case, the action I took to change my route had been available to me at any time over the last eleven months, but for whatever reason I did not recognize it as a viable option to cover the general distance that I wanted to cover until yesterday.  Even then, I could have ignored that possibility as stuck with my routine.  I would have not been as fulfilling as taking the action to change things in a way that worked for me.

Summer Winds Down

Today was another relatively typical day.  Pretty even keeled in that nothing really spectacular happened, but there were no real challenges either.  It's as if, as summer winds down, the universe (or at least my little slice of it) seems to be taking a bit of a breather.  There are no obvious signs of the summer coming to a close.  The weather was still pretty hot, the pool was packed, and the boats were still out.

The Boats in Annapolis Harbor

The crabbers and the fishermen are still out working the shallows and docks.  Today I walked past a midshipmen on the campus of USNA who had landed three pretty good rockfish that were slightly longer than my forearm from fingertips to elbow.  Back in Texas, we used to call them stripers or striped bass. Like salmon, they seem to be equally at home in both salt and fresh water, and like salmon return from the ocean in the spring to breed in the rivers.

Perhaps there is just a little more crispness in the air.  Football season has started, and there seems to be a slight uptick in farmers markets and arts festivals.  In fact, I came across this happy little surprise on West Street during my morning constitutional.

West Street Arts Festival

It's the set-up for the West Street Arts Festival which happens on the first Sunday of the month going forward for awhile.  This little "stumbled upon" gem was not quite as exciting as the Mardis Gras Parade in Daphne, AL that I accidentally walked right into the middle of last February.  There were no floats with scantily clad revellers throwing moon pies, Little Debbie snack cakes, and beads.  I did however break up what I thought was going to be a run of the mill walk and allow me to practice my bipedal locomotion right down the middle of the street.  Walking the street is always a welcome change and brings with it an entirely new perspective on a well known route.

At any rate, it feels like there is a change in the air.  A new season is approaching.  Frankly, I think I'm ready for it.  Come February and the cold north wind it brings, I'm sure I'll be pining a bit for just a hint of the warm humid air I've come to tolerate (barely) this summer, but for now I welcome the approaching fall.