“As I went down in the river to pray
Studying about that good old way
And who shall wear the robe and crown
Good Lord, show me the way!”
It is an interesting time that we are living through. Even as I study history, I've never before witnessed the global extravagance of wickedness that we're now seeing. There have been vast land masses and empires where tyrants have conquered and ruled, but nothing as broad and far reaching as the current revolution of depravity and brainwashing exposing itself before our very eyes.
I find that as I listen to naivety speak, my mind gets sparked by a phrase or a word. For days I will ponder them and even experience sleeplessness over what I'd heard. I return to the source or person in my thoughts. I pray about it and seek answers in the Bible.
My greatest concern is what children are going through in this bedlam of mass confusion and treacherous ideology amongst a consensus of openly flagrant little antichrists. Those who operate in darkness yet have disingenuously formed ranks in the dominion of worldly imperialism. Their collective authority has, as one of its goals, the debasement of minds of the “next” generation. They seek to empower an “anything is permissible” way of thinking amid the collectivism of immorality. God ordained parental leadership to raise up children that would know him, obey him, and walk in his ways. Parents, in their extreme folly to please their peers and the ever-growing culture of “no judgement," have slowly, methodically, given up their responsibility to govern their own households in righteousness.
To live as though there is no judgment of anything we do is to inhabit a euphoric comic book reality. There must be a red line one should never cross. Yet society, the educational systems, business communities, government regulations, so-called "social justice" issues, along with unsavory oligarchs who rule in high places have sorely tested our God given ability to know what is good and pure. What is honorable to the Almighty. In doing so, there has emerged a comradery of individuals who no longer desire meekness or self-control. There prospers by and large, a concerted affinity to lift a fist against the Lord of Hosts and no longer concern oneself with “Hallowed be His name.”
Parents who cling to kindness as a mantra of wanting their children to be raised as little non-judgmental ideologues of the future, have also desensitized them from being able to distinguish right from wrong. Little ones look to their parents. They trust them, they want to please them, and then they get thrown to the wolves! Children assume that they will be protected. If a parent gives another authority over them such as a teacher or day care provider, a child can but think that they have been put into safekeeping. A child would never think that a parent doesn’t love them enough to refrain from throwing them into the pit of modern day Molech worship.
The guardian of a child’s soul rests in the hands of their parents. A parent judges them. If they were to slap a sibling or hurt someone unnecessarily, a parent corrects them, even causing them to feel shame. Along with the charge of being a parent goes the task of teaching your children. The Bible assigns the response from a child as “Children, obey your parents in the Lord; for this is right.” (Ephesians 6:1). It would then be imperative that a parent also teach them and shield them from the heinousness and the consequences of not being equipped to judge that which is depravity. There is such depravity in the world that even to think of some examples is hellish. Imagine telling a 2-, 3-, 4-, or 5-year-old … that their parent assigned them their gender of male or female. Or that the existence of multiple genders is real. What barbaric cruelty. If you are a father or a mother and you allow this or other putrid indoctrination to take over even a miniscule of your child’s mind and heart you are a horrific, wicked, sinful human being. You think there isn’t going to be judgement against you by The God of Creation?
This is not a time when division exists as it’s been perceived by the spellbinding talking points which have been repeated for years. No, the division is minimal. The majority is marching lock step. They are the simple minded, they are the weak, and their minds are eager to please, and to go along to get along. They have been trapped into believing an overindulgent permissiveness that in the end will lead to death. They are dragging their children in chains thru a crucible of brilliant trickery that will end in destruction.
The remnant is those who have been born again and have been given the power of God to overcome. We are the poor, the contrite of spirit. We are those who tremble at the word of God. We, as well as every individual of the world, will give an account before him for everything we have done or not done, and for every word that comes out of our mouths. We are the ones who agree with God about sin and repentance. We are the ones who are humbled by the blood of Jesus. We are the ones who sojourn in a world that is not our home. We are the ones whose eyes are averted, looking up for the day when the Lord brings us to Himself. We know that our Savior lives and our hope and faith rests in Him.
In my opinion, the so-called church has been a disgrace the past years. Having already been softened by false teachers and wolves, the church has continued in bowing to evil and caving to ungodly tyranny. They neglected to call upon the Lord while replacing sound doctrine, humility, and reverence unto Him, "who is able to destroy both soul and body.” It's been replaced by fear, complacency, and the battle cry, “for the greater good.” Having been given the opportunity to be refined and tested in their faith, they allowed this crucible of wickedness and lies to take over their minds. They ignorantly supported and lifted up all the little antichrists whose sole purpose was to divide and conquer. Others posted feel-good memes on social media to make themselves appear to “be kind.” Preachers gave on-line sermons, weeping as they neglected to encourage true fellowship with the Lord along with believers, settling instead, for the unrighteousness of the world rather than taking up their cross. They sat on the sidelines allowing deception to infiltrate the church while the sheep got scattered.
Covid? Think about the persecution of the early church and ask yourselves, "was it worth it?"
God did not separate elders to act as cheerleaders. “He Himself gave some, apostles, and some prophets, and some shepherds and teachers; for the perfecting of the saints for the work of ministry, for the building up of the body of Christ” (Ephesians 4:11-12).
The church's cowardly stance had already been taken when vipers like Mike Yaconelli, Richard Foster, Dallas Willard, Rick Warren, Mark Driscoll, and others were celebrated and ushered into their doors. Meanwhile, the stench of their heresy continues to fill the air. It's now become transparently revealed during this time when the flock needs, more than ever, Godly leadership to prevail. Were you not charged with discerning the times and to warn the Church concerning adversaries? James wrote “Adulterers and adulteresses, know ye not that friendship of the world is enmity with God? Whosoever therefore will be a friend of the world is the enemy of God.”
There is no such thing as “go along to get along” in serving the Almighty.
I take no pleasure in what I have witnessed. It saddens my heart. Blindness is real. Yet I know that God has always set apart a remnant church of His children bought and paid for by the precious and holy blood of Jesus. The remnant follows in that trail of blood. Being hated and persecuted for his name because we trust in him who says, “I will be with you always, even unto the end of the age” (Matthew 28:21). That remnant seeks the Lord for signs and wonders when their backs are up against the Red Sea. They seek and trust in His Divine power to rescue them or if it be His will, to die with outstretched hands and the promise of eternal life.
To Him be the glory now and forever…
It felt silent but rather, it was the gentle orchestra of the backwoods.
My dogs stay close while all around us acorns bounce off of the ground that is covered with pine needles the color of an amber beach.
The transitioning green ferns now spotted in shades of brown, dance in the breeze as autumn’s-colored leaves flutter like butterflies.
Almost tiptoeing, we walk, scanning trees and fallen wood branches for any sign of hidden life.
Caught by surprise, a chipmunk makes its shrieking, chipping noise and scampers away.
Squirrels bark, warning the forest of a hawk or an owl which is present and looking for lunch.
Spotting some raccoons, I call the dogs in to sit and stay nearby. Always attentive, they move their heads, instinctively sniffing the air with their noses and perking up their ears.
Years ago my mother gave me a book (one of many). The book is called The Book In Review, by Herbert Vanderlugt. It is a quick and wonderful review of the Bible from Genesis to Revelation. The book follows two streams, one of individual salvation and one world redemption- as they flow through the Bible. (page 192)
At the very end the last words or quote is from a man named Eric Sauer and it is one of my favorite messages about God.
" We behold with worship this age-long plan of God. The record of salvation in the Bible has conducted us from the gate of eternity before all time to the gate of eternity after this time. The goal is exactly as the commencement (Psalm 90:2), God Himself...But He Himself, the King of ages (1Timothy 1:17), will then bring ages upon ages out of His inexhaustible, infinite fullness (Revelation 22:5; Ephesians 2:7). In heavenly jubilees will His redeemed creatures praise Him, and through the spheres and worlds of the new creation will ring and resound the triumphant, exultant song: "Unto Him that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb, be the blessing, and the honor, and the glory, and the dominion, from eternity to eternity.
(This picture was taken on a lovely September long drive with my dad)
I remember the day well, it was overcast but warm. I walked down the road , through the path , and onto the beach. The waves were strong and I was glad that I had my boots on to keep my feet dry. I looked and saw birds and seagulls laughing in the wind. I lowered my body almost flat on the sand as the salty air filled my lungs. I dug my elbows into the ground and positioned my camera. At that time I didn't know how to shoot in manual and I didn't know the different types of beach birds by name.
All I knew was that it was beautiful...
Southwest of the bog...
It was quiet all around me with only an occasional sound from the wind or a yelp from the herons which I'd come to see. Bundled up in layers of clothes along with water boots, I turned off my iphone as to not disturb nature. I watched and waited, hoping to see the dance of the great blue herons mating. I saw one pick up a branch from a nest, drop it, then pick up another one and fly off.
Herons and egrets present sticks to the one that tickles their fancy during courtship and nesting. It’s like a man bringing a woman flowers...the sticks are gifts and a show of affection. Herons don’t mate for life so this is a yearly ceremony. I’m eager to see it in full display.
I thought about my life today and said aloud, “I cannot believe it.” How blessed I am. I reflected over how time flies and the gentleness and grace of God. Experience and age changes us but He is the conductor of life's orchestra: the beginning and the end. I said again out loud, “ I never thought I’d see and do the things I’ve been privileged to see and do these past few years. I never even imagined it.” I’ve been immeasurably showered over by my husband’s generosity in allowing me to pursue the things I feel passionate about. I hardly ever put down my camera and I thrive on crazy abstract adventures, especially on rivers and in the woods. I am not well liked by most but to my husband I know I am his whole world. This is a delicate and sacred knowledge and my own heart is full of flowers every day.
Many years of my own life were about survival. They were unstable years, stained with much sin that haunted me with deep sorrow. For years I cried because I knew that as a mother of three children I had not had the wisdom or strength to give them what they deserved. It was only when I met my husband that he provided a sanctuary and a home. Together we gave them our best, together we sought the Lord, and together we attempted to fill their brains with His truth before they left our home. In a way it was a crash course in parenting and priorities as we worked to make up for lost time.
I turned away from friendships then so that I could look to God alone, ignoring others' opinions about right and wrong. I needed time to work through all the feebleness and the grandiose, “there are many truths” mindsets which are so pervasive in today's society. I did have friends who I loved and adored. It was they that helped me to get by many tragic crossroads in my life. For that I will always smile when I think about them. I found, though that I didn’t want their truths I wanted “THE truth.” I spent several years reading the Bible word by word, line by line, verse and chapter by chapter, book by book,(I still do). I also studied doctrine, theology, church history, cults, progressivism, Catholicism, dispensation, Calvinism and the likes. Name it, I’ve likely studied it. I discovered that to be an intellectual one does not have to be an academic.
“Study to shew thyself approved unto God, a workman that needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth.” 2 Timothy 2:15
Though I continue to examine the Bible, I also have entrenched myself to nature and Gods creation. I find it fascinating. I recall thinking last year as I was embedded with Canada geese, how anyone could possibly believe in evolution. Evolution is about evolving but geese are practically perfect. Herons, on the other hand are predators and they look like dinosaurs. Sarcastically, I wonder if that’s why so many people like them. I like them too. They’re beautiful, graceful and like all things, they are Gods handiwork. I know I’ll learn something and I am looking forward to that.
"Only one who has learned much can fully appreciate his ignorance. He knows so well the limits of his knowledge and how much lies waiting to be learned."
There was a wet snow falling on me as I stood high on the rocks along the bank of the river.
Earlier I had been to a sandwich shop and found out from a fisherman that they were putting up the nets to catch the alewives. For some reason I thought they did that in May, not in April. My curiosity was peeked and I drove over to walk the paths high above the water with my camera around my neck and protectively tucked into my coat.
I am not a people person but I have a longing to learn new things. Gaining knowledge of something drives me, I think that is why I love the outdoors and wildlife so much.
As I stood watching, I thought to myself "Who in their right mind would stand in the cold and be this excited?" I glanced up the river and saw two fishermen hanging nets. They were dressed like lobsterman in boots, hats and warm clothing. It was very interesting to me to see how much work it was for them to hang and secure their equipment. Mind you it was wet, overcast, and snowing.
To the left of me I heard some younger boys come down another path. They were carrying small hand held nets, smoking cigarettes and dressed in jeans, unzipped jackets, baseball hats, and all weather boots.
They put down their gear and came my way. After a nice conversation they informed me that they were fishing "blind." Which meant they couldnt see the fish. Apparently they drag their hand held nets in and out of the water to get whatever they can catch.
I asked them questions. They explained that the alewives run mostly during high tide. The fishermen usually come to gather their haul during low tide. Sometimes they stay throughout the day, checking and adjusting their gear.
After they left I kneeled down on a rock and drew my camera out, using it like binoculars. I focused up and down the river. It was pretty cool taking a closer look at all the netting on both sides of the banks. I felt wound up with anticipation, imaging how the river anglers must be feeling too, preparing for their season. It's a tough way to make a living. In a way it's an honor for me to witness, as the wife of a seafaring husband. Like my husband, these men work hard, they likely sacrifice long hours to get the job done. Like my husband who is an engineer, these fishermen work with their hands. There is no glory and no glamour. It's dirty, it's messy, and it requires concentration and quick thinking. I so admire those who I like to say are, "working for a living."
When I first started doing photography I took pictures of everything. I practiced the fundamentals (I still do) of sunsets, lighthouse sunrises, sea smoke, landscape, action, wildlife, and people. You name it I played with my camera in many environments just to learn. ( I still do) Eventually I started paying attention to myself so that I could “be in touch” with what I really enjoyed, what was I passionate about, what did I get excited about? I began to narrow that down and ...today I mostly do only what I love to do. I have found that it is important for me to be excited about the process. It’s personal… I try never to lose sight of that. I am a loner to extremes. Networking is not my “thing” although I am told over and over again how important that is??? I spend a tremendous amount of time outside. It is not an exaggeration to say I am outside 4-5 days a week in all weather for 5-10 hours at a stretch. I track in the woods and on rivers sitting quietly and observing for hours. I’ve been chased by fisher cats and carry pepper spray, especially in the spring. (I am quite concerned about bears right now.) When I need a break I head to a city to “get away” from everything and play with my version of street photography. Yesterday I traveled west and ended up in the woods and river quite some distance from our house. It was a great day. I was in solitude, I was surprised by nature, I observed, learned, and captured images that fuel my love for photography and the lifestyle I’m so blessed to enjoy.
I’ve had many thoughts reeling around in my mind which I’ve wanted to write about. Photography, Christianity, despair, ongoing grief, life, marriage, and a new grandchild en route are only some of the things I’ve been thinking about. In my mind I’ve written full blogs, complete with sarcasm, honesty, and humor. But alas, my Lyme disease has gotten the better part of me causing tiredness, confusion, and procrastination. As a result I’ve done plenty of contemplating and had time for personal evaluation of my past year.
Having Lyme disease feels, at times, like depression...or worse yet, (my Achilles’ heel), having Alzheimer’s. Not prone to whining or seeking a doctor, I have found it to be a bit crippling and downright annoying! I have bursts of energy and work steady for a few hours only to have that followed by days of sitting, resting, and diminished focus. I don’t nessecarily think of myself as having chronic Lyme but since being diagnosed last July I have times that I just hit a wall for days or weeks. I am learning to adjust… but I refuse to get overly analytical or neurotic.
I have had good days. I’ve been able to go out and find eagles. I’ve observed waterfowl. I’ve walked new paths and come across big cat paws. I’ve met some wonderful people in the past weeks. They have told me stories about themselves and have been encouraging towards me and my lifestyle of photography. They’ve told me about places they’ve discovered “along the beaten paths.”
I often run into people who pull out their smart phones and start to show me all of their pictures. I hardly ever show people my pictures. Most don’t ask to see them, but they see my camera and assume that I want to see their pictures, which I find interesting. I am a study of character, personalities, and a person’s peculiar estimation of themselves. I do at times have to pull myself away from some “longwinded” grandiosity.
Pictures, pictures, and more pictures. “Are you a photographer?” This is a question, not only asked of me but one that I have given considerable thought to. What is a photographer? Who calls themselves a photographer and why? What makes a person a photographer? It’s not a good time to “be” a photographer, as the world is full of pictures. Iphones, smart phones, social media, Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Audubon, National Geographic, magazines, and the list goes on ad nauseam. Everybody, or at least 1 in 5 people, is a photographer. The word itself as found in the dictionary doesn’t help to define the matter; a person who takes photographs, especially one who practices photography professionally.
Wikipedia offers a better explanation or one that better describes the word photographer:
“A photographer (the Greek φῶς (phos), meaning “light” and γραφή (graphê), meaning “drawing, writing”, together meaning “drawing with light” is a person who takes photographs.”
An artist of sorts… Pure, edited, manipulated, or not photography is more than a hobby and more than just a picture. It is an obsession and a way of life. Photographers think about photography all the time. When we see something, when we travel, when we plan, when we read a magazine or watch TV our minds are pondering how, what, where, when, and capturing a scene. Many, like me, consider what speed or iso was used to capture a picture that we may admire. Photography is more than simply taking a picture; it is a focused, practiced, and disciplined craft/art.
Yet in this day and age, with just about everyone being a photographer, it is competitive, cut throat, and snarky. It is veneered with “niceness,” pride, and clicks that in some ways reminds me of adult high school. "Are you published?" "What equipment are you using?" "How did you edit that?" "Have you met so and so?" Once I was on a beach photographing and was asked, “who do you represent?” as though my credentials meant something. To me nobodies’ credentials mean much. Once a photographer is deemed as popular, they're always popular. Even when a new photograph is not very good, critics continue to hand out positive feedback, while the social media world of validation give out mindless thumbs up and “likes.”
Many so called photographers want handouts on others work and edits. They see something they like, they follow crowds of favored photographers, and they flood landscapes for sunsets, sunrises, and established preferred in demand pictures. I appreciate that for gaining understanding on how our own camera works and advancing personal knowledge, but let’s face it... learning how to photograph requires perseverance, growth, and blood, sweat and tears. As my husband can attest to it is not without meltdowns and disappointment.
I am a photographer, I am a book publisher, and I am a writer. Good, bad, indifferent, or rejected it has to be a passion. It cannot be about seeking others' approval. It is art. It is intimate. It is sincerity shared.
SIDE NOTE: This is not meant against my FB friends who share their wonderful pictures of family, kids, and animals. I love to see your life! This is about a different segment of people.
The leaves not yet red, orange, nor yellow.
I sit silently watching and barely moving as the colors seem like they're about to burst!
The air smells different and the light in the sky reflects a gentle haze on the treetops.
My heart waits in anticipation of barnyard animals and fairground cotton candy, fries,
and gooey sandwiches. Oxen pulls, sheep shearing and funny chickens are all coming
The river nearby flows and flowers along the way are beginning to turn rusty and
brown. Overhead the sound of summer birds grows faint...
Like some good "ole" fashion handclapping gospel music in the background
September's amber glow gleans a little bit of sorrow, remembrance, and hope...
William W. Webster &Family get ready for the "Big E"
In my own studies, I have done some in depth research on most of the Jewish priesthoods. I have very strong viewpoints about this subject. I am aware of the political persuasion&influence in Israel by the Orthodoxy Hasidic sect of Judaism, which took hold&inserted its own brand of legalism, righteousness&peity in their society. Like the days of Jesus when the Sadducees&Phaisees comprised the ruling class, so it is today with the Hasidic authoritative impact. I find them fascinating to study, watch and talk to, but with all due respect my theorem position always stands on biblical doctrine. Therefore, only the Jewish priesthood of eternal value is the Leviticus sect. I recall having this discussion with a scholar who happily declared that, "...there is no such thing today as the Levites priestly function and that there are none..."
Hmmm...perhaps he should go to Israel and walk the Kotel Tunnel.
God is at work.
Excerpt from my book
When It's All Said & Done
"I cannot begin to express the awe of this trip.
Dave, Nate&I bonded in a way that only those who love God&His word can identify with. We stayed in Tel Aviv, at the Park Plaza Orchard, on the beach. We took daily trips from this point of origin, returning at night. We bicycled to Old Jaffa, traveled to the Jordan River, saw Meggiddo, walked the old cities of Jesus's day, gazed at Old Jerusalem from the Mt of Olives, cried at the Garden of Gethsemane, stood on Calvary, witnessed the place of Christ's tomb, climped the stairs to the Rotunda, took pictures of the Chapel of the Franks, toured the Kotel Tunnel, bowed&prayed near the supposed place of the Arc of the Covenant."
"We talked to Leviticus Priests, covered our heads at the Western Wall& Old City, strolled&smelled the aroma of the Cotton Merchants Market. We were stopped at the entrance of the Dome of the Rock by gun toting guards, soaked in the Negev Desert&the Dead Sea. We toured Masada&the West Bank, went to Haifa, Mount Carmel, Caesarea, and walked the Crusader underground city&the grand gothic Knights Hall. We saw the Roman Theater&aqueducts, Herold's palace, and saw the beauty of Rash Hanikra, along the Lebanon-Israeli border.
We talked, and visited with people, whose lives&personal stories were magnificent. It was extraordinary&unbelievable. We cried, laughed&pinched ourselves at this blessing of a trip. It was intense, historical& deeply profound for all three of us."
“Sitting in the front row” is something mom said to my brother Scott. She was proud of all of us but she liked to use this saying especially with Scott, in terms of his accomplishments & career.
Sitting in the front row…
My husband and I often talk about how blessed we are as Christians to be “sitting in the front row.” We are not alone in the front row but are joined with all Christians who have excepted the extended hand of God’s grace by faith in Christ Jesus. We marvel, not because we are better than others but because we trust in the words written in the Bible. We are in awe at how God has revealed Himself through these 66 books contained within the full manuscript. For us, sitting in the front row allows a different panorama on the world. We experience the geopolitical decline of morality, a plethora of evil, and news which, from a Biblical point of view gives us a context not shared by all. Dave, my husband, and I are not immune from all that we witness in terms of anger, rage or disbelief in this rise of evil seen in the world, but we are comforted by the hope which passes all understanding and by a future anticipation of heaven with our King.
It is a quagmire to me when I listen to the sophistry of the world either on TV or in person or by reading an article. My mind cannot absorb so much foolishness... and yes, ignorance, yet such were I before my rebirth in God.
All around me people pump themselves up, needing to be right for arguments sake. There is a “cause” for anything, a worldly righteousness, and clamoring for relevance in misfit land. I know that for many it comes from a place which is believed to be “noble.” In some ways I admire them. I admire those who take a stand for what they regard as good; I do not, however, admire inconsistency or hypocrisy. My admiration, though, is not my compliance to any form of belief other than a homogenous Biblical aspect.
I find it suspicious when non-Christians use the Bible to justify something. How is it that a miniscule “part” of the whole can be used to advocate a principle in a secular incitement generally geared against a Christian or (more shocking), an adherent to Biblical Christianity? I don’t mean to be harsh. I know many Christians who have not read their Bible cover to cover who do this too. Sadly it is a red flag for deception within the church. A single verse out of approximately 30,000 or better will never satisfy, unless, that is, one understands the magnificent truth of the fullness of time at the Cross. As a general precept though one doesn’t get to borrow a verse and quip, “touché I’ve won!"
In trusting in God, some would find it uncomfortable that I am thankful that God in his word warned us of the battle by telling us in Ephesians 6 that, “our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.” I believe it! It is not beyond my ability to make this leap of faith and so I imagine the unseen war just behind the veil of my vision. There are those who faithful get up every morning and run to the horoscope section in the newspaper. They read their daily brief and they believe too, never really questioning their obsession with superstition... taken, by the way, from the real meaning of the zodiac found in the Bible.
I am thankful that God made me and that He has always known me. That leap of faith is as easy for me as those who believe that they evolved from ape-hood and goofy muck into the stunning human being that they are today.
I like sitting in the front row and being challenged to dig into my Bible deeply when I have questions. I am thankful to have a person in God to turn to in prayer when I doubt, when I am sad, when I am feeling alone and when I want to quit. I am thankful for the presence of the Holy Spirit, along with the illumination in wisdom to my heart and mind. Sitting in the front row means I am His guest… He is the councilor, the mentor, the one on center stage.
Sitting in the front row means my eyes are fixed on Him.
Alzheimer's...Just the facts
Almost 2/3’s of Americans with Alzheimer’s
disease are women…
Anyone with a brain is at risk for Alzheimer's.
...On March 26, 2013 I lost my mother to Alzheimer's,
she was only 73 years old.
Mom is really sitting in the front row today !
I can't wait to see her again!
“The Ox Cart Man” where can you be…beneath the
piles before me or hiding near my knee?
Six eyes line the window, hazel and brown, wonder
of wonders a bag full of books has just been found.
Here she comes our teacher grammy…could it be the
“Good Night Moon” or “Free Fall” from leaves high in a tree?
Tiny fingers hold tight the chairs propped looking up
the driveway, just twenty minutes longer the day
still bright reminds me. “Hello Red Fox” says Eric Carle,
as she enters with a bell “The Polar Express”
has her excited this story she has to tell.
Oh joy she longs to share as they sit upon the couch
“Roxaboxen” or “Green Eggs and Ham” if you please,
our "Mama s not a Llama" they laugh and tease.
Their cat comes up beside them as she reads
“Cats here, cats there, cats and kittens everywhere”
while fingers touch her necklace dangling with
Oh for such a time as this she loved them through
and through “Blueberries for Sal”, “Make Way for
Ducklings”, “One Morning in Maine” and “Time of
Wonder” the cover written in gold and blue.
For your inquiring, enchanted mind she wrote in
’89, moon snails and spiders are very similar you
know for “Chickens Aren’t the Only Ones” where eggs are made to grow.
The funny ones we love “There’s a Nightmare in My Closet” peeping and nestled
on the blankets edge “The Napping House” breaks not my bed when everyone is
Should it end not there for further on she goes and
here she comes again with Lewis in tow.
By far a favorite each summer stuffed in her big black purse,
the chronicles of Narnia where Prince Caspian is
known to say “I don’t like running away” come jumping off the page.
Yet in another pocket she reveals something new
“The Island of The Blue Dolphin” is torn and tattered too.
She knits you all a snowflake and gives you each
a kiss while her face is singing sagas of the Sacketts’
in the west, L’Mours’ historical fictions are sitting on her chest.
Her shelves appear disordered some would even say a mess,
but hands reach out to touch them her books above her desk.
She signed everyone one she gave you each child
received her best, a scripture to remind them how
wonderfully they’re blessed.
Once asked a person wisely does anyone perceive how
much she loves those written words books “A” to “Z”?
Most worshiped within her soul the one the Lord Himself holds.
She prays the words He’s written with each of you in mind,
each one that He has given her His glory may they find...
I once had a man insult me to my face about my camera. He held in his hands a very expensive Nikon. My own camera is a low end beginner Nikon 3100, it’s not what pros and real photographers use. He was actually right in his flippant and off handed comment but for a different reason, then I was only using the “P” or program section of my instrument. I wasn’t even close to having the understanding of photography that I have today. Camera knowledge doesn’t guarantee a good picture but it is helpful.
As I look back to that time (1 ½ yrs ago) I see how I have grown, yet I still use my original gem. I say that because I am accustom to my camera, it has become my second Wilson, my first Wilson was when I bought myself an IPhone for my 50th birthday six years ago.
Photographers, like all cultures, are an interesting group of people. I don’t hang with them, lunch with them, or have coffee with them. I do “run” into them in the morning, at noon and in the evening. We are all over the place. We are on the web, social media, and in magazines. Photographers navigate all forms of communication to establish themselves as “bona fide” artists.
This morning I met one such photographer, Benjamin Williamson, he is well entrenched in the state of Maine as a fine art photographer. He has gotten a lot of positive feedback on FB. He sells his well thought out and beautifully composed pictures. I have looked at his earlier work and I can see his progress. That is a good thing. As I have said before on other blogs, it is a craft of perseverance and challenge. This young man taught me a new word this morning; it was “snapper.” I am not rooted in the “insiders” language and I had never heard that one. A snapper is a person who snaps pictures with no tripod or additional equipment; such was I until a few months ago. I can proudly say I am no longer a “snapper.”
I have been waking up quite early lately and this morning was no exception. At 4:30 am I got up, dressed, and headed out to watch the sunrise. I was hoping that there would be some arctic fog because I haven’t yet tried to take pictures in that environment. There was fog everywhere! The temperature was -6 as I jumped out of my Jeep. When things are looking super for photography I can hardly stand it, my brain can’t keep up I get so enthused. There was a lighthouse, fog, water, rocks, sky, birds and boats this caused a strain on my self-diagnosed attention deficit. Still I had a superb morning and as I looked over my pictures I can see where I could improve and do things differently.
I am loving it!
#Photography #-6degrees #JustTHinking