Walktober (5)

A lot of walking and ‘walking’ has occurred since my last post. Funny how in each moment things can be so busy and full of things that we find pleasant, abhorrent and all of the places in between and beyond, that a different moment seems beyond capabilities to even happen, let alone to be noticed. For me a present moment IS all and everything that I can conceive during a speck and a space of time. I can choose to ignore this or to ignore that as a delusion, as an escape, as a coping mechanism. I can choose to narrow my conceiving to pay attention to minute details of a thing in sheer wonder of it. Whoops! I got off into a ponder! (psst over HERE Elisa, this way!)

Soon after my last post I recalled a hankering to experience a corn maze. So, I called a place where I have taken photographs and they, indeed were doing them, and a hay ride. Amazement and Gratitudes poured forth that the cost was only $5!! This covered TWO mazes and a hay ride. My daughter and her fiance wanted to go with me!! I no longer had to pay for daughter!! My present had not conceived this before and I wondered if this is where that tendency of gramma-type persons arises from. Obligation to pay for daughter has to go somewhere and oozes out onto uhm others!

We got to the place before sunset. It felt good! Right by the river that also runs through the tree place. Mist and cooler breezes snaked fingers across the wooded lot and fields to play the tickle game with the senses! Son was not afraid of the maze and did not get lost! A miracle right there! The mazes were huge and good exercise and conversation. The second maze wove through what felt like marshy land with associated birds and creatures singing and chirruping an evening chorus. I was able to have numerous Tree Place type moments even while other persons laughed and hollered their ways through the mazes around me. As my insides lifted up and flew and I hit ground at once, I heard the sound of geese!! I turned to see them and saw wondrous neon cotton candy manes across the western treetops! My five dollars was very well spent! We also went on a hayride. The farm owner gave us agriculture lessons about corn, and soy, and even cotton. I liked knowing the answers and getting into an intelligent conversation–bless my Grandpa, but had to check myself remembering these other people and kids really didn’t want to hear a lot of this stuff in the dark. 😀 Some of them did listen though and did ask more questions, which to me, was nice. I learned something about corn that I didn’t know before too. No images as I didn’t expect in the very late evening to be able to see to take them.

One Shoot Sunday and McConnellstown Party Line Memory Ramble–Purple Profundity: Poetry by Elisabeth Connelley

Good Morning! It’s One Shoot Sunday again! (Ok, so it’s Tuesday, I got stuck without a keyboard and then my writing got stuck too!)

The following is quoted to attribute the photographer and the site that supports and encourages The Poetry Challenge of One Shoot Sunday.
Sunday Photography Interview (Part 2): Rob Hanson & Poetry Challenge

Last week saw many great responses to Mr. Hanson’s lovely photography. There were numerous creative takes that went to all corners. I thought, before we delve into the second half of this interview, you might be interested in hearing the true story behind “The Bootmaker,” which was One Stop’s official prompt for last Sunday’s challenge.

From Rob Hanson: “That’s Peter Limmer, of Limmer & Sons, Bootmakers, in Intervale, New Hampshire. They are currently sixth generation (and likely last) Austrian bootmakers of the highest repute. A pair of custom boots will take up to two years to deliver (if you even get on their schedule), and cost a minimum of $600. They also have stock boots, of which I have a pair. They are, without a doubt, some of the best hiking boots you’d ever want to own.”

And now, enjoy the second half of the interview, as well as the prompt to follow.
~Chris Galford

Picture Prompt Challenge Time!

McConnellstown Party Line Memory Ramble

Get off the party line
Oily rags
Turpentine

Churning butter
–on the stoop
Giant enamel bowls
Peaches to peel and to pit
Watermelons
Chilling in the spring

Tables
Chairs
Kegs of nails

Razor Strap
And window frame

Hearing shows,
on the porch
From the radio
I called it
Church in a box
–shaped as old church window, arched

Glitter and dance of kerosene lamps
The night and hallways
Less scary in the glow

Sharp
Frightening
Teeth
Glare
From a hook
Living history
Not just a book

Push and shove
Back and forth
Something straddled
On the horse

Pies on the table
Apple butter kettle
Over hardwood
Fire in the yard

Memories suspended
In yesterday
My Pappy

–by elisabeth connelley

Summer in Winter

Summer in Winter

I am currently shivering!  I am currently very very grateful not to be homeless!  I am very very grateful to have heat and food.  I am still shivering and thinking about placing heated bricks in the bed for warmth, Ok, so it’s a memory AND it really works!  I got myself a rare evening cup of black tea and decided to look through my pictures folder, while it steeped and I drank.  I long for these sights and these smells.  Bright flashes of God, The Creator’s great imagination!  How chosen the reds fading to other reds and orange, petals curved and curled just so in each moment as the sun moves, or we move, or maybe just the Earth…

I cleaned out a row of celery, saving much of it for customers.  I loved the resistant tug of the celery as I pulled it free of the soil.  Its scent, unique perfume, lingering until I found more dill!

Tewksbury Dill

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!!  The things the air carries, bringing forth and sending away!

Morning Trip (7)

“I ask for a moment’s indulgence to sit by Thy side.
The works that I have in hand
I will finish afterwards.

Away from the sight of Thy face
My heart knows no rest or respite,
And my work becomes an endless toil
In a shoreless sea of toil.

Today the summer has come at my window
With its sighs and murmurs,
And the bees are plying their minstrelsy
At the court of the flowering grove.

Now it is time to sit quiet
Face to face with Thee,
And to sing dedication of life
In this silent and overflowing leisure.”

RABINDRANATH TAGORE

Patience copyright