RSS Feed

Portals and Passages WalkDoc July 2014

Posted on

 

photo

Sometimes a walk in the woods is more than a walk in the woods. This week at Highfield Hall/Beebe Woods in Falmouth, MA,  there was an outdoor art exhibit that knocked my socks (and sweater) off. Trees were yarn-bombed with eye catching color and texture.

photo

They surprised this visitor while traveling up the hill and, like magic, color popped on the sideways and byways– and all of it was hand knit or crocheted. The surprise element worked, and it was delightful.

 

photo_8

Of course, the exhibit doesn’t end here, but gave me the incentive to knit some cozies for trees in my own yard.  My daughter Molly’s immediate response: “Do it, Mom! All of them.” Ahhhhh, the acorn doesn’t fall far from the tree!

photo

The design, color and texture of the yarnwork on the picture above is my favorite, maybe because it is so unexpected in such a bucolic environment.

 

photo_6

The yarnbombing wowed me, but the sea glass fragment house sent me to the moon and back. A zillion pieces of Mother Nature’s worn beauties are linked like jewelry and create a small house. From the outside, it glistens.

 

photo_4

From inside, it provides an entirely new perspective to everything around it. My eyes kept having to decide what to focus on: the intricate glass or the altered view of what existed outside of it.

 

photo_7

I did think about how much fun it would be to collect and build one of these gems, but after careful consideration, realized that I might want to finish the zillion unfinished projects already in my queue. Maybe not….started to collect pieces already, just saying.

 

photo_5

This last portal is a glorious gate created with shells and all kinds of found objects. It was a total surprise on my right as we meandered through Beebe Woods. I love the juxtaposition and the element of surprise. That’s what captured my attention throughout this walk… what a great composition of man made and nature made art. I want to go back again after the storm and see what it looks like.

 

 

 

WalkDoc June 15, 2014

Posted on

photo 1

photo

IMG_4772

IMG_4828

IMG_4770

IMG_4830

Cape in Early June WalkDoc

Posted on

photo 1

photo 5

photo 2

photo 5

IMG_4435

photo 2

photo 2

Bike Path WalkDoc 5/27/2014

Posted on

IMG_4444

IMG_4460

IMG_4472

IMG_4479

IMG_4449

IMG_4435

IMG_4466

IMG_4490

IMG_4475

IMG_4488

Remainders

Posted on

photo

Every once in a while there’s a book that I’m afraid to read, but I know I should read it. Usually they contain some sort of horrible behavior that will give me bad dreams for a long time. Strength in What Remains by Tracy Kidder, is one of those books that I have been avoiding since it was published in 2009.

I had read, totally respected, and enjoyed several other Kidder books: House, Among Schoolchildren, and Mountains Beyond Mountains. What kept me from Strength in What Remains was the story of genocide in Burundi and Rwanda 1994-2008.

I was mistaken in avoiding this book, because although it tells the story of man’s inhumanity to man and the unspeakable atrocities that took place, it is just as much a story of one man’s ability to survive under these horrific circumstances. Deo is this man, and Kidder makes him come alive in every paragraph, every sentence, every picture that the reader creates in his/her mind.

This is a book I could not put down. I started it on Saturday and finished it on Sunday morning. Deo suffers greatly, and yet is able to push through the pain, the misery, the loss of his old life, and the trauma in the new life. The reader sees the battle to survive in war-torn Africa but also sees the desperate struggle to survive in New York City with two hundred dollars in Deo’s pocket, unable to speak English, and vulnerable to every sort of vermin the City has to offer. Both experiences create desperate, debilitating, unforgettable memories that may fade, but never go away. They haunt him like shadows in a darkened hallway forever.

Reading this book certainly put life in perspective for me. It presented struggles that were real and traumatic. It shows hope build and then be dashed. These are stories that were difficult to tell, but needed to be spoken, and most importantly, needed to be heard. Kidder is a wise, articulate, compassionate writer. He tells Deo’s story, and we can’t put it down.

 

Green Sprouts

Posted on

Image

Some spring days try to fake me out into thinking it’s summer. That has happened recently. The sun shines brightly on the deck, the chairs look warmed and cozy, and there’s an ever so gentle breeze that bends the trees. It looks like it’s perfect for an afternoon with a book and a lemonade.

Image

However, once out there, my feet are cold, I need a sweater, and I’m saying “Screw the lemonade, I need some hot black coffee.” So having donned woolen socks and sweater, grabbed a cup of steaming java, I persist in moving the chair around the deck to catch the most direct rays of the sun. Yes, I know, I’m pushing it. Jumping the shark or something like that. But I do long to bask in the sun with a good book… it will happen, just with layers for awhile.

Image

Today a walk to the beach was truly an aerobic exercise in staying vertical against the wind. It was “refreshing”— ok- it was nippy, and I walked fast because if I stood still, I’d complain more. At WoodNeck, the windsurfers were out in full glory. Sails, black suits, full beards and huge smiles. One energized 60+ year old said the water was 50 degrees and the air was 50 degrees, so that makes it 100. I bitched about nothing after that.

Image

It’s true that the daffodils have bloomed and the azaleas and forsythia are full color. Periwinkle and all types of short wild flowers have started to open. Spring is really happening, just a little late and a little slower than usual.

Image

I’ve also noticed that I’ve got a couple of “anniversaries” that are happening right about this time. I’m marking the beginning of my fourth year of retirement from teaching at Bentley University. This is the first year that I was completely unaware of semesters, final exams and last day of classes. I’m having a blast doing exactly what I want, when I want to. The freedom is exhilarating and my list of “want to do’s” grows each day—in a good way. I’ve had the opportunity to read from my stacks of collected books as well as raid the library for some unexpected delights. I love the lack of curriculum and the full range of opportunities.

Image

On a similar note, I’m celebrating my second blogiversary of http://www.yarnsista.com. Two years of writing generated 99 posts, almost 6000 views and a tremendous amount of fun and satisfaction for me. It’s a place where I can write about my passions: the Cape, my life, my books, my fun with fiber and anything else that captures my attention. Taking photographs has been a new skill to work on. The iPhone camera is a blessing. It makes learning by trial and error plus lots of practice very attainable.

Image

I also just celebrated my first year of doing yoga. Now that is a very big deal. With the help of many compassionate, wise teachers, I have begun my practice and continue to expand it. My back no longer hurts me; I can move without aches and pain; I’ve lost weight and am much healthier than ever. All of this is exceptionally good news because I’m about half way to 122 years old, and I’d like to be flexible and balanced right up to the last breath. Three yoga classes and one Pilates class per week should help me get there.

Image

So all of this spring/rebirth/new growth stuff is working. I have no complaints and am looking forward to it all. Life is good.

 

Yellow Yellow Yellow

Posted on

 

photo 1

Today it actually felt like Spring here on Cape Cod, despite the fact that I did have to put on a layering sweater before donning my jacket. I love the rituals that seem to have evolved for us living here.

photo 3

It’s April; the daffodils must be in bloom at Spohr’s. We avoid the official events on Saturday and go on Sunday– before people get out of church for Easter Sunday.

photo 1

We don’t like crowds and love the quiet of the plants, the trees and the bay. That’s how we roll.

photo 2

The property used to house a family who planted a zillion daffodils from the beginning of time along with maintaining lovely gardens with all kinds of green goodness.  I really love the daffodils.

photo 4

Daffodils are just what I need after what seems like a never ending winter. They’re yellow– come on– yellow– you can’t help but smile at the color and the way they dance on their stems. I love how they’re clumped together and not planted in discrete rows.  Rows are for folks who can color inside the lines and don’t like yellow… that’s not me.

photo 2

On days like this, I do wish I planted one thousand daffodil bulbs in my front yard last fall.  Better yet, I wish someone else planted them for me… in clumps, randomly up and down the hill with more than enough to have a full bloom outside and a big bouquet on the kitchen table. Maybe this fall…

 

 

 

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 43 other followers