Today is the last day of Becky B’s fantastic month long challenge. Every photo has to be square – and in some way portray this month’s theme: perspectives.
It goes without saying that life around the world has changed in the last few months – and our perspectives along with it. I can only speak for myself as to specifics – but along with the isolation, restrictions and fear…there has been at least one silver lining in my family life.
My husband teaches guitar for a living – has been doing so for over 40 years. Both of our children have guitars and have benefitted from his influence and guidance over the years.
Our son’s interest in the guitar began during his senior year in college and he made do with my old acoustic from childhood. He started his post-college life in the Washington DC area and during a 2014 visit, Dad was able to give him a few lessons.
While I obviously snuck around taking photos…as usual…
We gave our son a new guitar for his birthday shortly thereafter.
However, as a busy young finance professional, he hadn’t had much time to really dive into it. Until COVID-19 hit and changed everything.
Quarantined at home in Washington, DC, he picked up the guitar again this past March. He has been connecting with Dad on a weekly basis for lessons and conversation ever since.
Guitar lessons and connections during a pandemic…a new perspective.
I recently discovered a multi-generational family of leaves…all coexisting quite nicely. The senior leaf, age spots and all, appeared to be going strong as it generously showcased the younger flashier leaflets.
I’m sure they all have much to learn from each other.
“Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts.”
Behind one sturdy fence lies a river
Rising and falling with every tide
Each day the moon is relied on
Nature carrying us along for the ride
I took a break from a long walk in our local park recently and took a seat…alone…on the memorial bench we had donated to honor my in-laws. My view was interrupted by the metal fence separating me from the river beyond. But I knew what was there.
Bordering trees and plant life often double as reflections on the water’s surface. River banks are exposed when the tide is low and disappear when the tide is high. There is something strangely calming and comforting about this. The predictable pull of the moon. An ebb and flow of the changing seasons and time of day.
Nature at its finest with a lesson at its core.
It was hot as blazes the day I took this photo. What did I expect for July? Exactly what happens every July.
I hold out hope upon hope that a predictable life will return someday.
It was a hot day last September when I parked the car in the state beach lot – looking forward to a nice long walk along the sand. I stopped for a moment next to the restrooms and glanced toward the beach.
Except where was the beach exactly? At first glance, I was reminded of Maria at the opening of “The Sound of Music.” The hills are alive and all that.
Thankfully, in my case, these hills weren’t those kind of hills…but alive all the same, as they were roped off to protect the endangered Piping Plover population.
Fortunately, a sandy walking path – a short walk to the ocean – was just around the corner.