Long Day Wrapped Up

Today was a pretty long day, but it ended in the same place that yesterday ended.

End of Day - Mobile, AL

It was a little earlier, a little more colorful, and compared to yesterday it was similar. That's life. Similar but never the same. Every moment is an act of creation, and realizing that through the last year of daily practice is one of the most mind opening experiences I've ever encountered.

I hope it doesn't take you six thousand miles out on the trail to come to this realization, but if that's what it takes it's worth it. 

Till tomorrow and the next fourteen hundred and forty minutes of creativity.

The Universe is an Amazing and Highly Prolific Artist

A friend of mine commented on a photo I'd taken and remarked that they saw the image as beautiful.

Reflections on College Creek - Annapolis, MD

I agree that the mirror finish of the creek where the skyscape and land can be reflected in an undulating sine wave was a truly spectacular view.  The commend forced me to reflect on the fact that his area of Annapolis has consistently delivered great photographs of the sky and water.  Sunsets, when they really come in deep red and angry are a particular favorite of mine in this area, but the cool blue and grey thunderstorms punctuated by a slash of sun are nice too. They give a sense of cool in the muggy heat that you can see, but you certainly couldn't feel.

I remarked to her that the Universe is an amazing and highly prolific artist. She renders scenes like these (and better) every day. I'm grateful that walking has made me more aware that these vistas are happening all the time.

In fact, I found a new spot from which to observe the sunset. Today's wasn't the best because of the billowing thunderheads in the west, but this view is going to deliver some great shots if I'm not mistaken.

Skyscape behind the Navy Watertower - Annapolis, MD

It's hard to believe that a little less than four years ago found me in a very dark place from which I could not imagine any escape. Quite a bit has changed since that day. Much of it has felt like it was for the better. Some days felt like they really were for the worse. The fascinating thing is that I'm not sure that I trust my own judgement in determining if there is a better and worse. My life is filled with beauty and light now. The darkness has been banished, and even the days where I thought I could endure nothing else since then have been honed a bit with the passage of time.

The creative nature of the power of the Universe is truly awesome to behold, and I find myself ever more thankful for each day that I'm granted to experience the wonder. I'm looking forward to tomorrow and the creativity the Universe has in store.  I'm not sure if it will manifest itself in the soft watercolor of the sunrise or the fiery forge of some other experience, but I know that whatever happens will be great wonder and I'm looking forward to seeing the work unfold.

Another Great Day

I'm not going to bore you with the details, but I'll wrap it up quick with the observation that today started out right and got better from that point forward.

Reflections on a Commute

This was the view in my rearview mirror on my way into work this morning. The sunrise is remarkable enough, but the reflection of the reflection off the window and side of the care is the product of fantasies. When I glanced over to check the traffic behind me and saw this view staring back I was taken aback. Lile pink pebbles on a baby blue beach with all the detail a digital camera can muster. It would be hard to believe if you couldn't see for yourself to complex beauty that lies all over the world at our feet.

Anacostia River Reflections

Here's another one where the interface between the air and the water is the spot where vistas come together on the plane of reflection.

Sunrise on the Anacostia

Another where the sky and water become one on the horizon. These are special moments, and they're happening all around me all the time. My life is filled every day, and I'm looking forward to see what pours out of the pitcher tomorrow.  I suspect it will be something like this, but unique and stunning in its own special way.

Scalloped Cirrus and a Power Plant near the Anacostia River

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.

 

Summerwind

Today was a pretty full Saturday.  I started off with a group of friends and we talked about the difference between forgiveness and redemption.  From my perspective (and I'll speak for myself here) it is much more likely that I will receive forgiveness for past wrongs if I'm seeking redemption from them.  I have some small amount of influence on the later, and the former is wholly in the hands of someone else.  Forgiveness is really only important to me when I give it.  A wise woman I know says that forgiveness is simply giving up hope of a different or better past.  I like that definition because forgiveness really just becomes a matter of fact, since there is really no hope for a different or better past.  It's right there in the word itself...forgiveness, giving that happens in advance of the insult.

It doesn't quite come across as well when I write it, but it was a pretty good way to start the day.

Even though we are several days into autumn, a fresh "Summerwind" blew into town today.

Schooner "Summerwind" from Kings Point, NY

"Summerwind" is a the newest addition to the United States Merchant Marine Academy sailing fleet.  Laid down in 1929, she is a classic vessel in apparently new condition.  Her wooden masts, and, to me anyway, the unique design of her booms were a glorious addition to all three of my walks today.

Stern view of "Summerwind"

Rory Conlan and I discussed the appearance of "Summerwind," and when I related to him that it was a schooner, he had all kinds of questions about what the term schooner actually meant.  This led to a series of question regarding the classification of sailing boats or ships which Wikipedia does a passable job of describing and providing enough links to expand on these descriptions to satisfy anyone.  You can read all you ever wanted to know about what makes a hermaphrodite brig slightly different from a brigantine rigged ship.

I once again found that my walk has taken me places that I never even imagined existed. The real beauty of that magic is associated with the fact that I've already covered this path more times than I can easily count. Every moment is a journey and act of creation.  I find that if I'm bored with a place because I've seen it before, I am probably not trying hard enough to really observe because each moment and place, no matter how familiar it may seem, is truly unique.

Change, the one constant.

Relatively early this morning, I was trudging up the incline of the high bridge over the Severn River contemplating change.  It's not too very hard to contemplate since the very bridge I was on was entirely built between the first time I arrived in Annapolis and how things are today.  Before the high bridge that spans the Severn on Baltimore Boulevard, there was a low draw bridge that had a sinister habit of being raised on Sunday afternoons as legions of midshipmen were frantically racing back to the warm (very warm) or cool (very cool) embrace of Mother B.  The temperature of the embrace tracked very closely with the weather, but that's a story for another day.

At any rate, you'd be racing the clock, for time tide and formation wait for no man, and you'd crest what was affectionately known as, "Oh Shit" Hill.  If you were lucky there'd be some minor back up in traffic as the four lane road necked down to a two lane bridge. More often than not, someone's 45 foot bay cruising sailboat would be making it's way through a great big gap in the bridge, and the line of waiting cars carrying similarly anxious midshipmen would be too awful to contemplate.  Then, you'd be late for formation.

The high bridge over the Severn River removed that uncertainty, and it created an excellent location to snap a few pictures of what was once known as Strawberry Hill before it was purchased by the federal government in 1868 as part of an expansion plan associated with expanding Uncle Sam's School For Wayward Boys (and now Girls...another change that only took place in 1976).  I took a few snaps, and this is what Google Photo turned them into.

Forrest Sherman Field on Hospital Point (previously Strawberry Hill) from the Severn River Bridge

It's worth noting that when Strawberry Hill was purchased in 1868 all of the land to the left of the satellite antenna up to the river edge was all river.  This land was "made" by depositing fill inside the concrete seawall, so this is an example of even more change.  I'm happy to report that this was done well in advance of my arrival in Annapolis.

Hospital Point and the Severn River High Bridge as seen while walking.

One constant in all of our lives is that the environment we live in is always changing.  Each moment, both from our perspective and the perspective of every other living (and probably non-living thing...if such a thing is possible) are unique circumstances.  I'd argue that we are witness to creation itself, and it's a powerful and wonderful thing.