Archive for October 2011
Memorable Image
Here is another image from my archives that showed up on our screen saver the other day. I am always thrilled to see this photo again. I captured this image up on Lake Superior in a bay at Grand Marais. That trip along the north shore holds extra-special memories because it was just Cyndie and me, celebrating another anniversary; our 25th!
Coming, Going
Yesterday, in the continuing hot October weather we have been enjoying, I took a walk to distance myself from the noise of neighbors blowing leaves. I was thrilled to find the trail carpeted with fresh-fallen leaves. Fitting, don’t you think?
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coming… and going
Sound Pollution
Most people would agree that something that gets classified as noise, can understandably be identified as polluting. When it is merely the ‘sound’ of the device put to use, the majority of reasonable people would refrain from labeling it as pollution. I admit, I am not always a reasonable person.
This morning, with the October temperatures thus far still holding warmth that requires the windows of the house be open, the sounds of the day are starting slow and sweet. There is the constant trill/buzz of crickets, which sounds like it hasn’t changed one bit since the darkness of last evening. Do they ever pause? There is nothing audible that would in the least bit be considered pollution
The bluster of the last few day’s dramatic gusting wind has ended and the air is incredibly calm, which sets the stage for this priceless aural tranquility. In the distance, there is a brief call from a friendly-sounding dog. I do everything in my power to absorb this peacefulness in desperate hope it will be enough to carry me through the day. My nemesis looms, near at hand.
I suffer from an inability to overcome an anxiety over the sound of the dreaded scourge of suburban residences: the leaf blower. It is like fingernails on slate to my ears. I can’t move away to a horse farm in the country fast enough. I may be driven insane before I get the chance. Complicating the impact of the sound, for me, is the aspect of what people are choosing to do that makes that infernal pulsing drone. They are using gas or electricity to create their own wind to move the natural debris of the desirable trees on their property; move it off of their lawns, sidewalks, and driveways. I witnessed someone yesterday pushing the pile into the street! My city tries to inform its citizens that this is bad practice.
AAack! My time has run out. The pain has begun. It is 9:56 and the blowing has started already, two houses down. It is too bad the leaves don’t stay where these people blow them. They need to get out, time and again, to repeatedly blow off their property. INSANITY!
Surfed Images
One of our computers is set to have the screen saver display a slide show of any random image on the hard drive. It reminds me of when I play the music on my iPod in random mode and songs pop up that I didn’t even know were in my collection. I think it is funny that I need to look to see who performs the song, because I don’t recognize it. If it weren’t for the software randomly selecting the song, I would probably never hear it played. Sometimes, I am pleasantly surprise to discover that I really like a mystery tune from my own library!
Yesterday, I spent some time watching the slide show of our screen saver and I discovered pictures that I felt deserved more attention. There are pictures buried in randomly named folders –a convention that has evolved over the years– that I didn’t remember I had. There is no real rhyme or reason to them. Honestly, the best way to share them would probably be in the manner they appear on the screen saver, randomly, one after another.
Instead, I’m going to unscientifically pick one to display here as the spirit moves me (or whenever I haven’t got any idea what to write) for periodic idle distraction of escape to a variety of visual destinations. Feast your eyes on today’s selection!
Pondering Perceptions
I am more wealthy than most of the people in the world, yet I am so far away from the top 1% of wealth that I completely understand the perspective that is driving the multitudes who are protesting “income inequality, economic disadvantage and the overwhelming power they say is controlled by the top 1 percent.” [Occupy Wall Street Protest: As Movement Spreads, a Message Evolves ]
May their protestations prove influential in a way that brings about increasing equity in the financial situation of the masses. Will I live long enough for that?
Concurrently, the passing of Steve Jobs is inspiring an abundance of emotional nostalgia for the products he brought to the marketplace. I am a fan from the very beginning. I have used almost every Apple product. I am happy to see the outpouring of attention for everything Steve Jobs accomplished in his life. But once again, as I so often do, I find myself intrigued by the attention that springs forth at the time of a death.
On Monday, nobody was waxing nostalgic for their original Macintosh computer. Today, there are images of those early machines showing up in the news, and all over tribute postings online. At the beginning of the week, who was thinking about how much influence Steve Jobs had in their lives? Now, Steve is dead. His influence on us hasn’t changed yet, but people’s perception sure has.
Will I miss him? I don’t know. I never knew him personally, so I doubt it. Will I miss his influence on the products I love? Possibly, but that will take a long time to manifest, I expect. He was a man who accomplished amazing things. His passing doesn’t alter how I perceive that.
I am moved to wonder, what person, whom has dramatically influenced us for years, though is still alive, are we totally overlooking right now? As soon as he or she dies, we can focus anew on the depth of our appreciation for all we have gained from that person.
Thwap
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make up some words
and make them up fast
make them come flying
right out of your past
flashes of brilliance
not even yours
visions and sounds
poetry for sure
get out of the way
and let the stuff roar
not easy to do
when it’s supposed to rhyme
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Yellow Orange
The color of the landscapes in my region seem to change by the hour lately. It is mesmerizing. Yesterday, when I left the driveway to head off to the day-job, the leaves of our trees hardly hinted of the end of summer. Upon my return, at the end of the day, the difference was downright shocking! The honey locust tree that dominates one side of our lot had changed to a glowing yellow-orange color, and in the span of hours, was already showering everything beneath it in a blanket of those tiny leaves.
Toothy Rant
I am not very picky about the toothpaste I use. I bet I haven’t bought my own toothpaste in 30 years. I just use whatever is in reach. It is a good thing that Cyndie usually has toothpaste available.
For as long as I can remember, any toothpaste I have found has had claims on it about whitening. In my experience, that is a false claim. For all the good it has done to advertise ‘whitening’ as a feature of toothpaste, they may as well have had ‘heightening’ on the label, as well. Why is it that toothpaste gets to declare that it makes teeth whiter? It seems to me, they could advertise that toothpaste makes you smarter, thinner, and reduces body fat, too. But it wouldn’t do any of those things. Similar to the way that ‘whitening’ toothpaste hasn’t made my teeth look any whiter in all the years I have been using it.
Meanwhile, have I remembered to mention that reading this blog will make your hair form dreadlocks? Maybe I should be looking for a career in the advertising industry.
Fully Conscious
Yesterday afternoon, Cyndie took me along on a visit to the stables where she has been helping a friend look after horses. It was an absolutely beautiful autumn day that defied the month of October with temperatures in the 80s. The unseasonable heat seemed to put the horses in a bit of an ornery mood. The dryness of the fall minimizes the amount of green turf available for grazing, so they have plenty of excuse to feel ornery.
I quickly became reminded of my limited experience around horses, especially groups of them. Our visit served to be a very clear demonstration for me of the simple lesson that is the cornerstone of the process Cyndie is learning: being fully conscious of yourself when interacting with horses, and being fully aware of the present moment. Horses are not satisfied with anything less.
I was describing to Cyndie how awkward I felt, trying to temper my normal quirkiness. I tend to react spontaneously, often with quick movements. I even used the word, “unconscious” to describe my usual mode of behavior. I didn’t want to startle the horses, so I had to control my urge to make unintentional movements. It is a great exercise for me, both mentally and physically.
We tossed out some hay and filled water troughs. Then Cyndie moved two horses out of the hot sun and into the coolness of the stable. Twice I witnessed how the animals approach Cyndie and make themselves heard. She said one horse was angry there wasn’t anything to eat. Even I could read his message. His direct approach. The way he stomped his feet. He was definitely telling her how he felt.
The second time was just as we were getting back in the car to leave. A horse made a very obvious and deliberate effort to hustle up to the fence by the car. I asked Cyndie if he wanted to tell her something. She walked over to the fence. I saw Cyndie bend over and look at his legs. It was quite something to witness, because it really did look like a conversation. And then, as soon as it was clear she got the message, he headed off to whatever he was doing before, leaving her standing alone at the fence.
Cyndie said that he had a sore on his leg. I asked how she knew to look at his leg and she said, “Because he showed it to me. He pointed at it with his other foot.” I don’t know what I was looking at, but I missed that message altogether. It did look very much like a conversation, as a whole, however.
Her stint in Boston is going to feel like a very long time to me, I think.
Dreaming Plans
I continue to reflect on our visit last year to meet Ian Rowcliffe and his family, spending the majority of our time there, participating in the activities of their Forest Garden Estate. It is no secret that Cyndie and I were so moved by the experience that we planned to return as early as last July. Circumstances altered that plan, but new possibilities are brewing, such as our swift formulation of a dream to acquire some property of our own that will support horse ownership. Meanwhile, we maintain interest in finding a way, along with all the other possibilities before us in the coming year, to still achieve that follow-up visit to Portugal. There is this little issue of the new job in Boston that Cyndie is negotiating. We will keep an open mind and stay as flexible as possible to accommodate space for everything we dream about fitting into our days in the year ahead.
Hey, Ian, how is the chestnut crop this year?
Relative Something 