One Holy Morning

Here is the record of one Sunday morning. It's what happened today after breakfast with Roy at Mel's Commonwealth Café and before church in Weston. We had taken separate cars to facilitate separate church-going, so I found myself alone, sunroof and windows wide open, serenely gliding up Rice Road in the RAV4. Suddenly, Hamlen Farm Nature Reserve appeared on my left. Brake, turn, park in the empty lot. How had I known to bring my old phone, now my blog camera?

9 a.m. pond view.

Deep reflections at the outlet.

I was all alone with a gorgeous, early fall morning -- for the first fifteen minutes. Then a woman speed walker appeared, moving counterclockwise along the circular path round one of the ponds. She, notable for her pink shirt, was followed by a small, snow-white poodle trying to keep up. Sorry, no picture of the little guy.

In the midst of the algae, and apparently
undisturbed by it, a frog.

After the beauty of the morning and the whiteness of the poodle, the frog in her algae bath was my next miracle.  Maybe I should have cropped this picture in close upon the frog, but I couldn't bear to give up any of the lacy foliage.

The enchanted path through the woods.

I was alone again, in a scene both deeply peaceful and vibrantly alive. Many of our summer birds have gone south, but a few chattered to themselves and each other. Chipmunks chirped. The rising sun was gradually coaxing aroma from the pines. I thought the next section of the path might be my last for the morning.

There's a named bench facing this view
of the pond, but you don't see it because
that's where my little camera is perched,
 taking this time lapse picture of me enjoying
the morning.

That little camera can't handle the subtleties
of light-through-shade, but I wanted you to
at least get an idea of the pair of white
ducks who were swimming nearby. They
skimmed the surface of the water with
their crayon-orange bills, sucking in the algae. 

Here's the pond to the right of the causeway. 

I took a video of the water rippling under the morning breeze; but I don't know how to make my laptop read those video files, so I can't show you. It used to be easy. Story of our lives.

This little amphibian jumped across the path
right under my feet, then froze in place.
Ah-ha, but I see you, little guy.

The path along the back side of the pond is narrower, rougher. Despite flat heels, my Sunday-go-to-meetin' shoes slipped and slid as I stepped up my pace. It was just after this that I heard voices of a man and woman, but encountered first their mottled gray Great Dane whose shoulder reached my waist. Too startled to get off a picture, I did touch that big head as he brushed by. In fact, I met four beautiful dogs on this walk, who, even more than their owners, were as varied as the extreme points of the compass.

Reserve-land trees that fall into the water
are allowed to lie as they fall. This giant
white birch is still emitting new growth.

New England's ancient ruins: the remains of the
stone walls constructed by early settlers
from Europe, who struggled mightily to convert
a million square miles of forest into farmland.

This shot marks the end of my morning walk.
I left, refreshed and ready for everything church had to offer.

Look below The Line

"Middle class, middle class, middle class," is about as far down the American lifeline as the current crop of politicians cares to go. But there are lots of Americans living below the poverty line. Some are newly arrived there, having recently lost their corporate or manufacturing job, and they don't have a single skill for living without. How does one find the courage to go stand in line at the local food pantry for the first time? How does one recharge a cell phone without electricity? Run a Keurig? Take a shower without running hot water?

There is good reason for would-be leaders to emphasize the middle class. The overall health of a modern country depends on the stability of its middle class. But we need to think and act more deeply. Ultimately, the health of our country depends on how permeable is the membrane between the poor (including the working poor, a group that has been growing lately) and the middle class. And is it more porous in the upward direction than downward?

Please follow the URL below to the trailer for the upcoming (October) film The Line, which will give us a very clear view of our poor, especially our newly poor, and why they are in that unhappy condition. Are you a Democrat? A Republican? Forget that affiliation, and watch as an American whose electricity is still connected!

http://thelinemovie.com/

Best Beach Day

It was a bad moment for me, when I realized that this summer bade fair to be the first in my post-infantile life when I would not swim in the ocean even once. My daughter Rachel, her husband Rob, and Leah's children -- the McFall grands-- set out to prevent that sad statistic. They invited me to a New Hampshire beach one day toward the end of August. It was a glorious day, and here's some of what happened.

Rachel, Kaleigh, and Gavin attack the wet sand with a view toward serial burials. Rob, meanwhile, is assessing the surf. Unfortunately, I did not take pictures of family body- and board-surfing. Of which there was plenty.

It should be a law -- every child gets at least
one ocean beach day per summer.

Gavin has Aunt Rachel covered, as much of her as his
anticipation of burying the rest of the family would allow.

Come on, Gavin, let's get wet!

Kaleigh enjoying a nectarine and her ocean view.

Yes, I would highly recommend Wallis Sands State Beach in Rye, New Hampshire. It was crowded, but pleasantly so. One of my criteria for a happy day on a crowded beach is NO RADIOS. This was a crowd intent on wringing every possible enjoyment from sand, surf, sun, and each other. Thank you, Rachel and Rob, for engineering this event -- and Rob's Dad for the loan of his spacious SUV, so we could all fit in, big surf board included.