Tag Archives: Gifts Of The Journey

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All This And Each Other Too

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Yesterday, after a working on my studio space which is almost ready for its big unveiling, John and I took a little walk. We went out the door with a clear mission seeking the first signs of spring. We were hoping to find Snowdrops, the flowers you see below.

Pushing through the earth on an old grave in the churchyard, we caught our first glimpse of the green and white flowers.

Moving farther down the hill, we went to a secret place we know of that will look like a carpet of green and white in a few weeks as the snowdrops raise their heads and begin to open. Most of them are still budlike and new, but if you go in close for a better look, scattered among the green stalks with their bowed heads of tightly closed petals, you can see a few opening with centers that look almost etched with color in vibrant shades of green.

We follow a familiar path as we walk through the buttercup field and cross over this water. As I take this photograph,  I comment to John that this is the shade of green I wanted to duplicate in my studio space when I bought the fabric to recover an old chair.  I promise you these are real colors saturated by nature, not Photoshop that light up like this even in the late afternoon light of a shadowy wood.

More shades of green with a leaf tucked in the space were it fell last fall.

The bluish purple of this water always calls me to this spot and I have tried to duplicate it in my studio color scheme. It is one of the many colors in the fabric I used to recover my daybed.

It was about here that John took my hand and said, ” We are so lucky to have all this and each other too. ” I often think the same thing and have said it myself. It’s lovely to know that we share an appreciation of our space and each other in such a similar way.

This celtic cross marks the way into our village and behind it you see a stile I cross over sometimes on my way through a farmer’s field. It’s from this field, I was able to photograph a snowy view of our village a few weeks ago with the church tower in the background.

These horses always come to greet me when I pass by. ( I must remember to bring the sugar cubes I bought for them )

After our walk, we stopped by the pub for a cider for John and diet lemonade for me before heading for home. I gave a few dogs in the pub a good cuddle and we chatted with some friends before stepping outside into the evening light. I couldn’t help but snap a few pictures trying to capture this peaceful scene as we walked up the hill towards home.

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The Gifts Of Friendship – Delightfully Delicious

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Yesterday I spent a few hours with a lovely group of women. My running buddy Tina, who knows how to give a party and even more importantly, how to relax to enjoy it while it’s happening, had a lunch for some of her friends and invited me to join them. While already an artist, Tina went back to school full time recently for an art degree and with five year old twins, you might think it would be all she could do to manage school and family without throwing mid week lunch parties especially since much of the time she does it all on her own. Her husband Henry works in the music industry and is usually on the road, so she just carries on with school and family life alone when he’s gone, always making time to meet up with friends or teaching her girls things like the pleasures of surfing. Whereas I can be a bit of a hermit, she seems always on the go with a full schedule of social gatherings and activities for herself and the girls that I sometimes envy.

The friends she had gathered around her yesterday are some that she has known for years and while I had met and chatted with a few of them at previous events, this was the first time I felt I could relax and really begin to get to know them. It was an afternoon that I needed having been in a bit of funk this week, a little soup for the soul, delicious and warm, along with the laughter of new friends to help me nestle down a bit deeper into the life I’m creating here.

The comments I’ve had here at GOTJ this week have been uplifting as well and while we haven’t had a chance to break bread together as we did yesterday at Tina’s table, I want to say again how much I appreciate my increasing circle of online friends and your encouragement and support.

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Seeing The Boundary Stones

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Scattered around our village are boundary stones. They surprise me sometimes, showing up in places where I’ve walked before, never noticing them until one day they stand out so clearly it is as if they might have pushed up through the ground overnight. These are the times when I think … how can I be so unaware of something so clear to others?

I wanted to say how much I appreciate the support of all who commented on my post yesterday. My tendency to live in my head and frequently over analyze certain situations makes it difficult at times to see what is right in front of me. I’m still watching the river, but today it seems less out of control … thank you.

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Watching The River Run

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Sometimes in life you have absolutely no control over a situation. To think otherwise would be like trying to control a river set on overflowing its banks when the energy of the water becomes too much to be contained. In moments like those, I am tempted to build a barricade with my words to keep me from drowning in the depth of emotions that rush over me. Hurt, anger, and resignation are words that flood my brain as I try to make sense of behaviors I can’t control. Sometimes, all I can do is watch the river … and wait.

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Crossing The River Of Uncertainty

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Yesterday I watched as trucks and 4x4s braved the overflowing waters of a river on the moor near our village. Most of the larger vehicles barely hesitated although I witnessed several turn around, reluctant it seemed, to risk diving into the river’s excess that covered the road and spilled across the moor. During the twenty minutes or so that I was there taking photographs, no one driving a car was brave or crazy enough to drive into the water … except the one below.

A local couple I know drove up to snap a few photographs of their own and the husband said something that stayed with me. As he watched people press on through the water on a road they couldn’t see, he said, ” It’s not too hard if you’ve been here before and can remember where the road curves.”

What stayed with me was the idea that sometimes you just have to go forward on faith and believe that even though you may not see the road in front of you, it’s still there despite whatever may be obstructing your view.

Trying to reach the bridge.

The little engine that could.

The dog looked worried as he went past.

Going in deep.

It may look like a 4×4 here, but it’s really a small car with a roof rack.

After pausing on the bridge because the car was throwing steam, it went into the next wave of water…

…and made it safely to the other side.

Let me add here that having lived for year in San Antonio, Texas and seeing people drown by crossing water that looked like this, but was really very deadly, it is a good idea to always proceed with caution and sometimes even choose to go in a different direction to reach your destination.

I’d be interested to know if you’ve been crossing any rivers of uncertainty yourself lately and any travel tips you might like to share.

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My New Ride

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This morning my new ride showed up at the door. Thanks to the Christmas generosity of my step-mom Cullene, I have a new way to try to fight the steady diet of carbs, carbs, and more carbs that I tend to indulge in since moving to Cornwall. I thought this exercise bike might help balance my inability to walk past a plate of eggs, sausage, and chips, better known as french fries in America.

My will power seems to have evaporated since my hip pain became an issue and I need a little something to get me moving again. I decided after a good bit of research to not have the hip surgery that I mentioned in several previous posts. The recovery was so long and people who went through it still appear to have a fair degree of pain along with a limited range of motion and I just could not convince myself to risk those odds. While I am generally an adventurous, risk taking kind of person, I felt like my inner voice was saying no … don’t do it and at my age I’ve learned to listen to that voice.

With surgery ruled out,  I decided to readjust my running (not give it up) and bring in a few more fitness options that won’t stress my hip quite so much. Now I just need learn how to say no more often when John asks me,  ” Do you fancy sausages tonight? ”  because everyone knows that sausages taste infinitely better with a side of chips.

Image from Amazon site

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The Dance Of Life

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John lifted this image from a 1953 movie that his cousin Mary mentioned when she was here a few weeks ago. She is only in Will Any Gentleman for a few minutes, but you can’t miss the Cancan scene where Mary who was a professional dancer for more than twenty years is kicking up her heels. During her career, she danced with the Ballet Rambert, which is the UK’s oldest established dance company and still considered one of the world’s most renowned.

Take a look at the six women above and see if you can pick Mary out of the chorus line. (I’ll tell you which one is her at the end of this post) John found the movie online and ordered it almost as quickly as he heard Mary’s story when she was here for Christmas. We had a great time figuring out which one was Mary after it arrived. She would have been about 29 or 30 when this film was made and having just turned 87 we thought it might be a bit of a challenge to pick her out of the group based on how she looks now.

By slowing the movie down and viewing the scene frame by frame, it was very easy to see which woman is Mary. Despite the fact that her high kicking days are long past, Mary’s graceful movements as an 87 year old are still very similar to her much younger self.

It’s there in the angle of her head when she is listening to a conversation and you see it in the fluid rhythm of her hand gestures when she is telling a story. The lovely posture you see on her wedding day below is still very evident today.

David Levack & Mary Bench 1948

In addition to aging with grace and intelligence, Mary has not lost her taste for adventure as you can see by her decision to get close to the water’s edge on a blustery day when the sea at Trebarwith Strand was really rough.

I was a bit nervous thinking that as tiny as she is she might blow over, but John persuaded me not to hover and Mary was just fine.

I climbed up these rocks to catch the view of the ocean from a higher location and to my surprise …

I turned around to see John (no surprise there) coming up the rocks with Mary close behind him.

Remember what I said about adventure … she didn’t even need help going back down. My idea of what 87 looks like went through some major shifts during Mary’s visit.

This view waits for those who climb the path.


I saved this one for the last because of how absolutely beautiful Mary looks here. On Boxing Day, the day after Christmas, John and Mary went to Falmouth to go sailing with his brother David and his family. I stayed behind for some rest and missed all the fun, but John came home with some video so I could see how the day went and then created this still image of Mary from it. (The Cancan dancer second from the right is Mary, John’s adventurous, still stepping cousin.)


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New Year’s Eve – 2010 Or 1944

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It’s midnight and the pub is filled with people dressed as historical figures from the past. Some are clearly in costume while a few are in evening clothes and less easy to identify. Just a few minutes before the BBC radio which is playing in the background announces the beginning of a new year, a group of people I don’t recognize spill into the pub arriving in modern day casual clothing that stands out a bit next to characters such as Robin Hood, Van Gogh, and Amelia Earhart. There’s no time to wonder who they are or to say much more than hello as the voice of the BBC begins to countdown. 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 … Happy New Year!

People are kissing and confetti is flying and there is an excitement that is familiar and reassuring to one so far from home. From the door where I am standing, I can see people all around the pub crossing their arms one over the other as they reach for the hand of the person closest to them. Rocking and swaying, they are suddenly a body of like minded people as they begin to sing a song I recognize, “Auld Lang Syne.”

I sing along for a minute, one arm over the other, but I let go of John’s hand and I lift my camera high trying to capture a moment I am not sure I will be able to recreate later with words. Watching as they sing, I suddenly feel as if I have been transported back in time to 1944, a feeling so strong that even now days later I still can’t quite shake it. I don’t know why it is that date stands out … only that it does. It seemed fitting to color the image to fit the feeling I have when seeing it.