Relative Something

*this* John W. Hays' take on things and experiences

Posts Tagged ‘water

Latest Word

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I have a habit of getting stuck on a pattern of frequent reuse of a particular word. The latest word that I’ve noticed –usually it happens without my being aware– is “gorgeous.” In terms of a hot August day at the lake, the word is well suited to describe yesterday.

After a lazy soak in the lake, Cyndie and I lost ourselves in an over-fascination with picking rocks that grabbed our fancy.

“I like this one.”

“Oooh, look at this!”

“Here’s one for you.”

In the water, they look so shiny and bright. Cyndie brings up a pile of them to keep, all of which tend to turn into much less spectacular stones after they’ve dried.

I like shapes and textures. Tear drop and smooth.

Both of our eyes are drawn to the ones with lines of different color layers.

I noticed an urge to break some open to get another view of the layers. That thought brought back a memory of hammering different colored stones to dust with my siblings to make layered sand art jars.

I remember thinking those always turned out gorgeous.

And for the record, this August weather totally rocks!

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Written by johnwhays

August 12, 2018 at 8:33 am

Aqueous Abstractions

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I’ve collected a backlog of full-frame images presenting varying states of water recently, starting a few weeks ago during my bike trip, up through this past weekend at the lake. I present them today in the order they were captured.

I hope you can linger long enough to maximize the mesmerizing effect of the abstract aqueous distractions.

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Gulf Coast

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Our day at the beach…

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Written by johnwhays

February 26, 2018 at 7:00 am

Natural Oscillation

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There are days, and even just moments within days, when it feels like the world surrounding me is flowing away from my presence. Then there are probably an equal number of occasions when the sensation comes across more like everything is blowing toward me.

Well, duh. Ebb and flow. Of course it would feel that way. The thing is, I have to pay enough attention to perceive that oscillation. It might seem obvious, but it is also, for the most part, invisible. That is, unless you take into account the marvels of the universe that are all riding along on the same waves.

Our animals, the weather, the innumerable growing things everywhere around us, they are all dictating and reacting to the energy that pulsates and resonates through our beings.

We recently watched a documentary about water, and it pointed out how much connection there is throughout the world, simply through water. Our bodies are mostly water. If you and I drank from the same pool, we would have the same water within us. It would be the same water being consumed by the plants and animals in and around that same pool.

The same water that has been cycling from sea, to sky, to earth for as long as we can imagine.

It’s no wonder the pull of the moon and the reacting tides make such a common impression on people. It’s affecting the same water in all of us.

Or, something like that.

For some reason, my craving for pizza tends to arrive with a mystical regularity that exceeds most natural frequencies. I benefit from not being very picky about types and styles, and am blessed that Cyndie is almost as adventurous as me, so frequency comes with variety.

Last night, she baked a homemade pizza on the grill.

All I can say about that is, “MmmMmmmm.”

That’s a comment I tend to make around here at mealtimes with an unsurprising regularity. It’s my natural pizza oscillation.

 

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Written by johnwhays

July 13, 2017 at 6:00 am

Lake Art

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On a partly sunny day, between rain showers that rolled over us at regular intervals, I wandered down to the dock to soak up some sun. I thought maybe I could collect enough rays to lightly toast the inside of my arm to dry out what is now a pretty fierce poison ivy rash.

I don’t think it did anything for the rash, but I pulled out my camera and played around with the speckled pattern of puffy white clouds reflected on the surface of the water.

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For landlubbers, I’ll garnish these with an image from the forest to bring us back to solid ground…

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Written by johnwhays

May 29, 2017 at 8:02 am

Different Day

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Saturday was calm and Delilah was afraid to touch the water. Sunday the wind was directly out of the south and blowing strong enough to create rolling white cap waves. That was enough for Delilah to get over her trepidation about the water so she could charge in to bite at the broiling waves.

It was a wonderful sight to behold. I rushed to get my phone out so I could record a video. I held the camera for a long minute and then reached up to touch the screen to stop the recording. What I actually did at that moment was touch the screen to start recording, after having held it up while the phone was doing absolutely nothing during the best action.

Curses!

After chomping the white water multiple times, she alerted to the two ducks floating calmly past. I think they reminded her of chickens.

In another way Sunday was different from Saturday, there was activity in the eagle’s nest over the tennis court. On Saturday, I looked and looked but saw no sign of anything up in the big nest that has been home to an eagle family for years.

Sunday we were standing directly beneath it with Delilah when I realized the sound we were hearing was very likely newborn eagles. Looking straight up, I quickly found an eagle on a branch beyond the nest.

It is possible the nestlings just hatched. They were making quite a ruckus and we wondered if it had anything to do with our presence. When the eagle on the branch flew off, we began to speculate about the possibility the noisy eaglets were reacting to feeding time.

While one parent stayed seated in the nest, keeping a keen eye out, the other one spread its wings and flew away, presumably in search of another meal.

After a trip back to the cabin to get binoculars, we returned to find the nest calm and quiet. Having recently witnessed how quickly our chicks could fall asleep, we pondered the possibility the babies had already gone from shrieking hungry to full nap-mode.

By the middle of the day, when we had the car packed for the trip home, Delilah made every effort to clearly convey her preference to stay right where we were. It was funny to watch. She definitely recognized the cleaning and organizing preparations inside and kept a close eye on our movements.

When it came time to put on her leash to head outside, she balked big-time. Upon ultimately succeeding in getting her outside, Cyndie tried to get Delilah to pee before going in the car. Delilah’s only desire was to walk in short loops that always returned to one of the doors to go back in the cabin.

I like the way she thinks.

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Written by johnwhays

May 15, 2017 at 6:00 am

Springing Forth

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The multitude of flora on our property is springing forth at a variety of rates this year. To our surprise, some of our trillium are flowering earlier than we’ve seen before. That’s particularly thrilling for us because most of the bloomers are transplants we brought from Cyndie’s family vacation home up north.

We’ve had a good run of consecutive dry days, followed by a perfect evening rainstorm Monday night and it is making growing things very happy.

Getting the water right is key to a lot of things. I went for a scouting bike ride on Sunday to investigate a route that didn’t involve gravel roads. I was successful in that, but in so doing, I out-rode my water supply. The last spot I was planning to get a refill hadn’t yet opened for the season.

I decided to push for the finish on limited rations.

It’s not that hard. I limped home safe and sound, but I was unsurprisingly under-hydrated. What intrigues me is how long the evidence has lingered. Two days later, despite consciously increasing my usual daily intake in hopes of catching up, my primary barometer (urine color) revealed I was still behind.

Working on a long game toward optimal health involves an unending series of small daily efforts. It involves making corrections along the way for intermittent deviations.

As I prepared my breakfast and lunch last night for today’s shift in the mine, measuring the amount of cereal to meet my goals for grams of sugar, it hit me again how different my diet is from just a couple of years ago. I don’t expect I’ve yet reached a point of undoing what decades of a high sugar intake produced in me.

It was probably in the late 1980s that I attended a lecture that touted a mantra of eating like a king for breakfast, a queen for lunch, and a pauper for dinner. I embraced that part about breakfast with gusto, figuring my high activity sports habit was more than enough justification to eat whatever I wanted.

Portion sizes swelled, guilt-free. Meanwhile, my body tended to swell, too –despite the constant exercise of soccer and cycling. I miss eating too much cereal for breakfast whenever I felt like it, but I don’t miss how it made me look and feel.

Pondering the difference helps to reinvigorate my inspiration for staying on course for the long haul.

I’m feeling renewed energy to spring forth into another year of living well. Maybe it will bring me into full bloom sooner than I expect.

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