Belonging Together

"It was quite a beautiful thing, the way we simply just came to be,

with no effort or trying and slowly we found each other's hands in the dark."

-- Charlotte Eriksson

Mushrooms  10-16-14

"... you're not lonely and isolated from anyone.

You belong."

-- F. Scott Fitzgerald

Mushrooms  10-16-14

Mushrooms 10-16-14

 "Home wasn't a set house, or a single town on a map.

It was wherever the people 

who loved you were,

whenever you were together.

Not a place, but a moment, 

and then another,

building on each other like bricks

to create a solid shelter

that you take with you

for your entire life,

wherever you may go."

-- Sarah Dessen, 

What Happened to Goodbye

Weeds

"A weed is a plant that has mastered every survival skill

except for learning how to grow in rows."

-- Doug Larson

Wild violet (Johnny jump up) in the woods 5-4-14

"When weeds go to heaven,

I suppose they will be flowers."

-- L.M. Montgomery, The Story Girl

Wild vine in the woods 5-4-14

"Weeds are flowers too, once you get to  know them."

-- A.A. Milne

Dandelion in the woods 5-4-14

I spent the late afternoon yesterday, camera in hand, trudging through the woods. I went off-trail, up and down hills, dodging briers and low-hanging vines, searching for majesty.

The brooks were babbling. The birds were singing. Majesty was plentiful in the beams of a brilliant sun streaming down on me through the towering, leafless trees, illuminating the coming-alive-ness of the forest all around me.

I was looking for wildflowers, but mostly I found weeds.

Except for the May Apples and Jacks-in-the-Pulpits, the wildflowers were being shy. Apprehensive. After a hard winter, they weren't quite ready to stick their necks out just yet.

Not weeds. 

While the "real" flowers  were taking their sweet, timid time opening up, the weeds were growing happily and plentifully, running roughshod all over the forest floor,

Weeds are like Nature's little extroverts. Eager and unabashed. Not afraid to show their faces and shout "Look at me! Down here!"

Mother's day is coming, and for many, that means flowers. Some mothers will receive lovely, expensive bouquets and arrangements and hanging baskets purchased from the florist. Others will get last minute grocery store mums wrapped in cellophane. Some might get meticulously cultivated long stemmed roses, and others, tulips snipped from their very own landscaping.

But the luckiest mothers of all, I think, will be given fistfuls of battered dandelions and johnny jump ups, held forth proudly in grubby little bunches by beaming, grubby little children. 

A good mother will oooh and aaah over the loveliness of these "flowers" and carefully place them in Dixie cups on the kitchen windowsill and then dutifully water them like prize orchids. 

Her eyes may brim with tears, prompting the child to ask "Mommy, what's wrong? Don't you like them?" (translation: "Don't you love me?") And she will hug the child closely and confirm that she absolutely loves and adores both the flowers and the child, not minding (for once) the smear of dirty hand prints across her blouse, or the muddy shoe tracks across her gleaming kitchen floor.

She may secretly pop an extra Claritin or Benadryl to keep her allergies at bay. 

And in the future, she may feel a tiny ache in her heart each time the lawn chemical truck saturates the flawless green grass with weed-killer. In the future, no store-bought bouquet will ever mean as much. 

In the future, she may spend a late afternoon, camera in hand, trudging through the woods. And she may go off-trail, up and down hills, dodging briers and low-hanging vines, searching for majesty. 

And she will find it running roughshod all over the forest floor in the happy, plentiful, grubby little weed-faces stretching sun-ward.

Her eyes may brim with tears.  

 

A Backup Plan

"The most successful people are those who are good at plan B."

-- James Yorke

Sheldon's Marsh 2-18-14

"Look, if you had one shot, or one opportunity.

To seize everything you ever wanted in one moment.

Would you capture it or just let it slip?"

-- Eminem

Coat? Check.
Boots? Check.
Hat? Check.
Mittens? Check.
Camera? Fuck.

When Leo and I go for walks in the woods, we always bring our cameras, just in case we see anything photo-worthy.

But this time my camera battery was spent and I hadn't charged it yet.

My 35 mm camera is broken.

I was screwed.

Or was I?

I grabbed my 1985 point-and-shoot and my $1.99 thrift store Polaroid and off we went. At one point I was wearing both of my cameras, Leo's camera, and Leo's deer call all at once. Leo said that with all that shit hanging around my neck I looked like Louis from The Trumpet of the Swan. Gotta love a good literary insult from a wise-ass kid.

The film is still in the point-and-shoot, so I'll have to wait and see if any of the four frames I shot on it are any good.

I shot two pictures with the Polaroid. The thing about Polaroids is, you only get eight shots per pack of film, and each shot costs roughly $4 apiece, so you've got to choose wisely. It's not like a digital camera where you can fire off hundreds of shots for free. You have to conserve film -- make damn sure before you press the button.

One of the Polaroids was terribly underexposed, but this one came out pretty good, I think. I like how the setting sun is peeking through the trees, and I like the sort of misty quality of it. It's a moment that reminds me of a whole lot of other moments that made up an afternoon adventure with someone special.

When I got home, it was actually kind of nice not having to sort through frame after frame after frame.

Nevertheless, for about half the price of a pack of Polaroid film, I went ahead and ordered two extra batteries and another charger for my digital camera so this doesn't happen again. I like Polaroids, but I'm not made of money.

When you only have one shot, that's your one shot.

So you take it.

But it's always a good thing to have a backup plan.

Seeing Deer in the Woods

"Doe, a deer, a female deer."

-- Rodgers and Hammerstein, "Do-Re-Mi"

Deer in the woods 1-3-14

"When we lose the woods, we lose our soul."

-- Kevin Walker, These Moments Pass: Poems

A walk in the woods during winter, when the snow silences everything to a soft hush, is a beautiful thing.

It's like all the creatures, even the human ones, have their slippers on. It makes it easier to sneak up on skittishness without frightening it away.

Leo got a new camera for Christmas, so we bundled up and headed out to the woods so he could get some practice with it. He's the one who spotted these white tailed deer ahead on the trail. We had to focus through lots of trees and brush, but we were both lucky enough to capture a couple of frames before the deer wandered out of range. This is one of mine.

Usually if Leo shoots at anything in the woods it's with the barrel of a hunting rifle. It was nice to share with him a different kind of thrill -- the kind where you get off a good shot that makes a click instead of a bang. The kind where there's no blood, no body. The kind where the animal doesn't slump lifelessly to the ground, but instead strolls silently and gracefully on, which is also a good thing.