Category: - A Cottage by the Sea

Musing about beauty~

10/8/2016

Every time I visit the Museum of Russian Icons I take new pictures. By new I mean that I photograph the same icon again. It’s the same with my trips to Florence; I can’t resist snapping my favorites every time I see them. Then there are the hundreds of sunrises I took during my five years at the cottage by the sea that I need to delete from iPhoto. And what about the fall foliage?
What is it about beauty that is so universally noticeable? Granted, people might disagree about a particular painting, sculpture, or piece of architecture, but not so about nature. We might have a favorite sunrise, but do you know anyone who thinks one is ugly?

Random favorites

Beautiful moments at Cinque Terra

11/2/2015

On Saturday I took a twelve hour bus tour to the Cinque Terra—the five towns along the coast northwest of Florence, now declared a World Heritage site by UNESCO . A two hour bus ride, lots of walking, several trains and a magnificent boat ride to travel from town to town. The views were spectacular on what was considered the last day of the season. Last tour from Florence, last day the boat taxi would run from town to town, and perhaps the last day of sun before the rainy months.
Joining a tour offers more sociability than the solitary tours I create for myself. It can be pleasant to share travel stories with others, but for me, only in small doses. I understand this is a way for people to process their travels, but I don’t want or need to do much of that any more. My journal and this blog provide my means of sorting out what is important to me.
As my photos attest, the spectacular scenery in the same category of the universally agreed upon beauty of fall foliage. I tried to spend most of my time, especially on the boat, breathing it in, feeling the moment, and not thinking—that continual challenge of mine to stay in the moment. I have a long way to go, but at least I sometimes remember NOT to think. This was one of those days.
The other special experience was walking around the cemetery up the hill from the Monastery and Church of the Capuchin Friars. This was what I call a ‘living cemetery’, which means it is cared for and visited. A women was tending to each grave with fresh flowers. A man who had grown up in the area had come from Genoa to visit the grave of his grandfather. “I know so many people here now,” he told me.

Simple silence at home~

6/22/2015

I’m home from one of the most satisfying pilgrimages I have ever made to Scotland and Iona. Maybe the reason has to do with the internet access that was undependable, and when available, very weak. Posting a single picture was slow; posting a slideshow, usually impossible. Then to top it off, I left my computer plug at the hotel, forcing me for the last two days of the trip to conserve my phone battery—no picture taking—and computer battery—no writing.

After my initial frustration, when I accepted how it was, I found I was relieved to be excused from my self-imposed obligation to post every day. I noticed that I stopped thinking about what to write, and in doing so, my thinking shifted and even stopped. I was in the moment, with nothing to say, which is still how I’m feeling now that I’m home.

I wonder how this will play out in the next few weeks? Will my commitment to keep the blog going continue? Will I have anything to say? Life at home for the next three weeks will be anything but solitary, silent or simple, but when activity abates, what will I have to add to what I’ve written in the past five years? Can I truly be alone in simple silence? Tune in and see.

Texting, not talking~

10/6/2014

This isn’t the first time I’ve mentioned some of the annoying noises that I encounter on my walks around the neighborhood. The top two are the leaf blowers and mowers that I pass, and the enormous garbage and transport trucks that pass me.

     On the other hand, there are sounds that I love to hear, specifically people enjoying each other: families chatting while on a bike ride, friends walking and talking. The other day I wished for just such a conversation, but unfortunately, there was only silence. A little boy and his mom were leaving their house and on the way to the car. The toddler was doing just what a two year old should be doing; he was slowly and carefully walking along the little stone border that separated the lawn from the walkway. The mom, on the other hand, was doing just what a young mom should not be doing; she was texting.

    I wanted to be hearing a conversation between the two of them. What an opportunity for the mom to affirm what her son was doing, to extend language, to model how human beings interact with each other in a positive way. I won’t go into all the negatives that were happening; you can fill in the blanks.

      When my children were toddlers, there was no texting. I am aware that it’s a different world today, but I also know that everyone, not just little kids, wants the full attention of another. That will never change, nor will the opportunities, nor will the option to put the cell phone away.

Awesome September Equinox~

9/22/2014

I’m in awe of these early fall days with a tinge of yellow on the leaves. That’s the way it was on our drive south to Pennsylvania. Four days later, on the trip home, the yellow was more than a tinge; about half and half and that’s the way it is today as we ease into the September Equinox, which in Boston will occur tonight at 10:29. All over the world, night and day are exactly (well, pretty close to) the same length--12 hours each. Time seems to tread water and then get on with it’s days and nights. The leaves are dancing in the wind in similar fashion. Soon they will get on with their rhythm.

Walking south on Iona~

6/14/2014

My walk today to the north of the island: it’s all in the pictures.

Silence: soft breeze, song birds, crows.

Solitude: just me and the horse.

Simplicity: no thoughts.

Backyard robin~

5/15/2014

Believe me, she's there.

A robin in nesting in the rhododendron by the side of our house. It’s a beautiful thing to watch, to be privy to. There’s something mighty simple about it. For the most part, Mother Robin just sits there. Occasionally she gets off and once my husband saw Mr. Robin sitting with her. How about that for a tender touch? We starting noticing this about a week ago, so perhaps she has a week to go. Then the feeding activity will begin.

Nature is awesome. When we don’t tamper with it, it seems to be simple. ‘Let nature take it’s course.’ But when we try to understand it and explain it in words, it shows it’s complexity. Fortunately, we backyard observers have the luxury of choosing to sit in mystery. Well, so do the ornithologists.

Opening day--1955 & 2014

3/31/2014

Today is opening day for the Red Sox. No, I’m not going. It’s too cold to sit in the stands, and besides the game is at Camden Yards in Baltimore.

     Memories of opening day 1955 at Ebbets Field in Brooklyn. A friend and I had sent for tickets and taken the train from Connecticut to New York, and then the subway to Brooklyn. We arrived early to see batting practice and all the pregame activities, but when they didn’t open the gates to let us in, we knew that the game was going to be called before it even started.

      Any Dodger memory is worth of telling as far as I am concerned. But the Brooklyn Dodger memory supreme for me happened that day as my friend and I were heading away from Ebbets Field. Standing there in the rain was Jackie Robinson, looking around for someone.

      “Do you think they’ll play tomorrow, Jackie?” I asked.
      “I think so,” replied a rather preoccupied Jackie.
      “Who are you looking for?” bold me continues.
      “I’m waiting for my wife.” And with that he put his signature on the little piece of paper I handed him.

     I wish I still had the autograph, but memories are really better.

     My friend went back to Connecticut. I called my grandmother, Brooklyn Dodger fan supreme, and spent the night with her on Brooklyn Heights. The next day she and I went to the opening day together. That was the beginning of that magical year!

Believe in miracles~

2/12/2014

Every sunrise is a miracle. Zero degrees this morning. Clouds arose from the sea in front of the cottage.

Moonrise... beyond words~

1/28/2014

Moonrise at 4:40 this morning. I didn’t get up until it was way on it’s way, but still I had a good hour plus to sit in solitude and silence taking in the simplicity of it all.
(The light to the left is a star, to the right, lights from houses.)