Solstice Walk

Happy Solstice! 

I no longer celebrate Christmas. It never was one of my favorite holidays anyway. The stress of buying presents for someone you really barely know. Fighting crowds of people, cutting trees, buying decorations only to find at the last moment one light is burned out, so you have to head out into the insanity to purchase, of possible, a whole new strand. How does this relate to Christ's birth?

My sister loved this holiday. Last Christmas she passed just days before the holiday. I participated in it for her. She loved the shopping and craziness. I loved the joy it brought her. Shopping with her was an experience all in itself. She loved it. She would shop all day, only to go back after dinner to the stores that remained open all night. Not sure what the joy in that was, but she loved it. She accepted my idiosyncrasies, so I'll accept hers. And, also, I loved being with her. With her gone what little meaning it had no longer remains. It had no meaning before she passed, and I told her so. So, I always found it interesting, ironic I guess that she passed away on the year I decided I had had enough. 

I decided last year I would start celebrating the solstice. With her death and all the other craziness it never happened. Today was my first true solstice celebration. I woke up with a terrible headache, a bit depressed, sad, and a general feeling of blah. I wanted to just pull the covers over my head and pass the day wallowing in self-pity, but the voices in my head kept telling me to get up and out. So I showered and dressed, grabbed my camera and headed out. On the way out of the condo door I met a neighbor; a very nice man. Chatting with a happy person changed my mood and state of mind. I sometimes wonder if I should go back and tell someone how they changed my thinking and mood, my day in general. I stepped outside and the blue sky and brisk air made me feel a bit more alive. I headed to the pond.

My favorite place in the world is Walden Pond. Perhaps it has so much meaning because I studied Thoreau before ever setting foot on the shores of Walden Pond and looking into the exquisite colors of the pond waters. I was in love with the place instantly. I still remember the first time, like it was yesterday. Now, for me, it has magical powers, a draw, a feeling of comfort and awe. My daughter-in-law calls it my pond. Whenever I am in a funk it makes me feel better. My spirits are lifted. A man who works at the pond says it's the center of the universe. I love that description. 

I arrived at the pond about mid-day. There is a solstice walk planned, but I decided to do my own walk instead. My original plan was to meet up and do the walk, but once there I felt I wanted to be alone and do my own thing. I stopped by the replica and listened to the ranger talk about Thoreau, and then headed to the pond. I never walk the pond path much anymore. I always head to the other trails. There I rarely see other human visitors and I like it that way. I walked up to Ridge Path and along Weyman Meadow being the first to disturb the snow on those paths. I stopped by the ruins for a moment, said hello to Henry, and headed up to Bean Field Road. I walked out to Route 2 to get a shot of the reservation sign covered in snow then headed back to Old County Road. I came to fork in the road and decided to send someone I was thinking about an email, yes I know an odd thing to do out in nature, but I did it anyway. When I turned around I was staring into the huge eyes of a doe. I think we were in awe of one another, neither of us moved. We just marveled at one another. Neither of us quite sure what to do. 

I remembered that eye contact with an animal is confrontational, so I looked away. She headed into the trees. I found her with another doe they both looked at me curiously, although her friend decided to take off right quickly, but she stood there again looking at me as I popped off a few frames. She seemed very curious. She began to walk toward me, but I told her "no-no sweetie don't get too close to humans they aren't all as innocent as me." She began to head toward me so I left not wanting her to befriend a human. As much as I would love that. Not a healthy occupation for her. I turned back to absorb that moment one more time and saw her standing in the path watching me. How unusual. How sweet. And very touching. Like we had this communication of sorts. Like she knew I needed a friend at that moment.

I continued along the path eventually coming back to the pond path where I encountered the ranger giving an interpretive walk so I joined in. We walked along the path discussing Thoreau, the pond and nature. Visiting the site of the cabin he lived in for two years, two months and two days beginning in 1845. When we reached Thoreau Cove we stopped to enjoy the sun warming the bridge and Weyman's meadow. We had a quiet moment that I dedicated to Virginia. It was a beautiful moment. We continued to the beach where we parted ways. I thanked her and told her how much I appreciated the walk and discussion. It was a perfect solstice! 

When I returned to my car a feather was stuck in my windshield wiper. Not sure how it managed to get there. Did some one put it there? How did it come to land on my car right in front of me as I sat in the drivers seat? However it arrived there it seemed to be another sign. Now if I could only figure out what that sign means….

Virginia

One year ago you left the earth. You were my best friend, my sister, and so much like a mother. I've never gotten over this heartache, and at times wonder if I ever will. The past few weeks I've been banging into you, as I often do, just more often lately. I wake in the middle of the night hearing you call my name. When full consciousness returns it is then I realize you are not here.  I remember the last time I saw you. You said "I love you" with more eloquence than usual. I think of that day endlessly. Thanksgiving, 2009 when we parted promising to talk soon. 

I walk in the woods in an attempt to heal. I hear your laugh. That non laugh, sweet exhalations I guess you'd call it.  That no longer are. I sit by the pond and feel you there. That comforting presence. 

I still don't believe you are gone from my life. Most of the time I feel in a fog, a dreamlike state, this surreal space. And think when I wake up you'll be there. I'll tell you "I had this crazy dream," and you'll laugh, and say "I'll always be here for you" and laugh..that sweet laugh I miss so dearly. 

I'll remember you

When the wind blows through the piney wood

It was you who understood

Though I'd never say

That I done it the way

That you'd have like me to

In the end

I'll remember you

Virginia Frances Riggins Spitler 

August 26, 1948 ~ December 19, 2009

December Sixteenth

One of those amazingly beautiful days at Walden. The colors, the reflections, stunning, beautiful, serene!!

Stieglitz and nature

"Lake George was for him both a sacred and personal sanctum, and he sought to capture it's natural possibilities. At Lake George he could view nature as part for an underlying spiritual condition. The images become visual meditations...the eye looks into, instead of at the images as part of a mysterious otherness."
Graham Clarke on Alfred Stieglitz and his passion for Lake George.

My sentiments toward Walden are exactly this.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:Leonard Rd,Boxborough,United States

Flamingos and Such

Having a chai at Starbucks this guy was watching me. He was the only color on a gray dreary day. It made me smile. I'm not much into flamingos, however my friend Danny had a collection of various flamingos from what I understand. So I immediately thought of my good friend. They seem to be a popular yard item in Acton and West Acton... Maybe this too is an omen.

He posted a picture shortly before he passed on called "The Last of the Firebirds"--I love that title. Very cool image.  I really dig it. So much in fact it's the wallpaper on my phone. And memorial to a very special man who touched my life.

As he used to say: GO HERE ->
Danny's Dozen or here>> Smart Girls

Walden in December

Walden Pond the first week of December beginning to freeze. Weyman's Meadow was beginning to freeze in late November, but not the pond. Thanksgiving Day a swimmer was enjoying the cold waters midday.

Rainy days, Coltrane and people past

Coltrane and the rain..

Listening to Coltrane while the rain pelts the ac unit outside my basement level window.  I thought of my friend Danny. It's a dreary gray day the kind of day he never liked. I miss the music he would post to his blog. I miss his wisdom and insight and his art. And his conversations. Every time I hear Coltrane I think of him, or Thelonious Monk. He posted a video of The Monk and Coltrane one day that has always stuck with me. Two very talented men. Great music. 

I've been listening to Keith Richard's audio version of "Life." He talks about banging into those he has lost in his life. I've adopted the saying because I find it fitting. There are days my sister is around and that is just how it feels, like a "banging." She seems to be right there.  When I'm sleeping, or I believe I am sleeping I feel her presence, her touch and hear her laugh. 

When I wake up in the morning, in that place before you're really awake, I feel her there. Then reality moves in and I realize she isn't here anymore. 

A walk in the woods.

I walked down to Goose Pond for the first time today. There is a thin layer of ice on the pond that gives it a cold desolate feel. The radio announced it was 23* but the temperature felt much cooler than that to me. Made me wonder how Thoreau walked four hours a day, as I recently read, without modern comforts like my favorite...smartwool. There was an interesting sound in the cove on the right side of Goose Pond that sounded much like a bullfrog, but I figured they were long buried deep in the mud by now, especially in these temperatures.

Walked around Walden Pond today. A somewhat cold, gray and bitter day. I still love it. I had the pond all to myself, for a while anyway. Eventually a few other brave souls began to arrive.

The edges of the pond are beginning to freeze. In Thoreau's Cove the water lapping under the newly formed ice made a singing vibration. There is no sound like the sounds of nature. The pond was completely quiet other than the sounds from under the ice and the ducks calling out when I passed, or they passed me. At times they appeared to be laughing.

Panorama of the pond on a winter day. 

On omens and walking

I met this guy on the trail,

walking in the walden woods.

He swooped in front of me without a sound.

Very handsome, attentive, compassionate, understanding,

wise, a deep thinker, so so he appeared, 

and a good listener - when I needed one.

We promised  to meet again.

I went one way, he soared the other.

A beautiful omen.