I have sweat dripping down in the hollow of my lower back. I am in Chicago staying with my daughter in her cute studio apartment that does not have air-conditioning and I am trying to get used to being damp. I don’t like it, it makes me lazy, sticky, grumpy and in a bit of a muddle. But being with my daughter is making up for the discomfort. She is a delight and we are spending a lot of time gabbing in cafes, drinking great coffee, playing cards, getting a pedicure, laying on the beach, sleeping (or trying to sleep in my sweaty case), eating great food, going to a movie, and playing with her foster cats. Continue reading
Bird on my belfry
You can not stay on the summit forever;
You have to come down again.
So why bother in the first place?
Just this:
What is above knows what is below,
But what is below does not know what is above.
One climbs, one sees.
One descends, one no longer sees, but one has seen.
There is an art of conducting oneself in the lower regions by the memory of what one saw higher up.
When one can no longer see, one can still know. -Rene Daumal
Parliament Hill, Ottawa, ON
This poem was on one of my favorite facebook pages, Biodesign Out For a Walk, and boy, did it hit home. I have been feeling this distance from the mountain tops, the climbs of the early part of my trip. This week was spent mostly in large cities in Canada, walking my feet off in rising temperatures, with my jaw dropping at the sight of 14th and 15th century architecture rather than million year old mountainsides. Don’t get me wrong, it has been phenomenal, but this poem speaks where my heart could only wonder. As I have descended into busy populated zones I am recalling more of the memory of what I have seen. Continue reading
Pink sunsets, table cloths, my life through rose colored glasses, la vie en rose
Quebec City, Canada has been one of those places to hold a tremendous amount of mystery for me. I had heard stories, seen pictures and thought “this is a place I definitely have to see someday,” along with the pyramids of Egypt, the fiords of Norway, the beaches of Greece and the ruins of Machu Picchu. Now I am on the other side of the wish, and it was even more magical than I expected. Continue reading
The Good, the Bad and the Bugly
If crabs, lobster rolls, ice cream and used books are appealing then head up to northern Maine. I passed lobster and ice cream shacks, a spiral staircase shop, and a used bookstore in a chicken shed on little country roads, and thought I was in heaven. But I didn’t have time to stop as I wanted to get to Bar Harbor in time for a 4th of July cookout at my motel. The hosts were feeding everyone, grilling all kinds of meat, and I met the family, was fascinated by the Maine accents (from Bah Hahba), visited with other guests (like the Oscar Madison know-it-all talking with his mouth STUFFED full), and listened to a bagpiper playing on a rock overlooking the beach. The ambience was enlivening and I felt a thousand miles away from my normal world, I guess I was. Continue reading
Me and Otis watchin’ the ships roll in
Well, I needed rest and I got it. After an extremely warm, enthusiastic welcome from an old friend, Marjie, I was like a hibernating bear for a few days. She extended her hospitality and told me I could stay as long as I wanted, coming and going as I pleased. I didn’t know it, but I really needed to hear that as I had been feeling a forward momentum push and was rung out. She lives in Dover, New Hampshire, right near Portsmouth on the Atlantic Ocean. I sought my solace in ocean views of lighthouses, little islands and sea smells. I took three nights and crashed. Marjie had to work all the days, so I was able to sleep in and recharge my batteries. What a gift this was to a weary traveler. Continue reading
The Madwoman of Massachusetts
Sue’s lovely yard
I can tell by my photos, or lack of them, that I am weary. It must be time to refuel. I had two quick visits with friends in Massachusetts and I could feel the weight of the heat and humidity pulling me down. I spent a night in Feeding Hills (great name) with a friend that was my upstairs neighbor 30 years ago. We have kept in contact all these years even after she moved to the opposite coast. It was a lovely visit to her rural farm, an oasis for catching up, but one night was not nearly long enough. Continue reading
The three phases of Me
“I dwell in Possibility
A fairer House than Prose
More numerous of Windows
Superior for Doors” – Emily Dickinson
I started this trip rather clueless, not sure what I was looking for or why but knowing it was time for leaping. The first “section” of the journey seemed to be about returning to nature and rediscovering my absolute need and desire for connecting to the mountains, canyons, deserts, rocks, trees, wildlife, you name it, I was hungry for nature. Hiking brought me closer to my soul and more in touch with myself and I discovered once again that this body, this being, is just great the way I am, for who I am, without the trappings of what I do or who I’m related to. Continue reading
Yes, Virginia, Niagara Falls flows north
Seeing photos, film and hearing songs about the mighty, romantic Niagara Falls has always made me long to see them for myself. Upon excellent advice given by my lovely friend, Kathy (see “Meet Kathy”), I was to soak up the views of the Canadian side of the falls to my heart’s content then head up to Niagara-on-the-Lake, Ontario to take in a show at the Shaw Festival. Continue reading
Buffalo AUNTics
“If you must hold yourself up to your children as an object lesson, hold yourself up as a warning and not as an example.”
This was the quote from Shaw in the beginning of the program of Misalliance that I saw in Niagara-on-the-Lake, Ontario, and I giggled thinking about my daughters and wondering if I am being a warning or an example. Whichever way the wind blows I hope they will glean that life is to be lived to the fullest. Continue reading
Glowing in the dark…
Me and Robert/Cassius
I’m falling a bit behind in my posts, having too much fun experiencing life. But I need to quickly acknowledge a stop in Johnstown, PA on my way to Buffalo, NY. I texted Robert, the young man I met at American Shakespeare Center in Staunton and he offered to take me “dancing at the best view in town.” An offer this girl cannot refuse. Continue reading
meanderest 