…photos needs to be black and white, desaturated, sepia (brown tones) or selective color.
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I rescued this acorn during a macro photo shoot sometime last year. I spied it lying among its fellow acorns…which were scattered in heaps on the ground – most capless – or broken all together. Random caps everywhere. Crunched underfoot by humans like me. Somehow one had remained unscathed.
I brought the survivor home, where it has been resting safely and comfortably on my bookshelf ever since.
Today it was time for some fresh air, as I was inspired by Cee’s challenge this week.
I’m happy to report it didn’t fall off the railing of my tiny deck and get lost in the grass 2 floors below. If it had, one of the hundreds (well maybe not hundreds, but close…) of squirrels would surely have snatched it away before I made it down the stairs for a rescue.
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.
Let’s have a little fun this week, discovering our current theme song. Post a video, lyrics, or write your own.
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A “theme song” – let’s call it my pandemic theme song – has been looping through my mind ever since COVID-19 erupted in the United States back in March.
The chorus from You Can’t Always Get What You Want by (who else) The Rolling Stones popped into my head almost immediately.
It also happens to be embroidered on a large 14″ x 18″ patch of denim. Which is framed and hangs on the wall next to my desk where I write every day.
Whenever I look up, there it is in glorious shades of pink and purple. A good friend of mine from high school made it for me in 1972. She was kind of a hippy back then and is now a cloistered nun. A story I touched upon last year.
I mean, seriously, it does make perfect sense. You can’t always get what you want…most of us learn that fairly early in life if we’re lucky…and I often feel comforted by this timeless bit of wisdom. The Stones immortalized it, but it is actually true…duh.
I try to keep this nugget of humble logic in mind…as I wake up each morning…open my eyes…and remember. It’s not a dream. The world is still under siege. We are still waiting for “normal.”
The Stones did a wonderful virtual Zoom rendition of this tune on April 18th, 2020 for the “One World: Together At Home” concert in support of the World Health Organization. How fascinating that – out of all the songs they’ve recorded – this one was chosen for such a monumental moment in history. It makes perfect sense to me.
I may desperately want to see my family and friends in person…but I am still grateful I am not stuck in a long line of cars waiting for food. Or worrying I may lose my home or business. The financial impact on my family of 2 is not nearly as severe as it is for so many others.
Even though the April 18th performance doesn’t include the opening verses sung by the London Bach Choir, I highly recommend it. (Bonus: you’ll get to see Charlie Watts playing air drums)
You Can’t Always Get What You Want
I saw her today at the reception A glass of wine in her hand I knew she was gonna meet her connection At her feet was her footloose man
You can’t always get what you want You can’t always get what you want You can’t always get what you want But if you try sometimes, well, you might find You get what you need
And I went down to the demonstration To get my fair share of abuse Singing, “We’re gonna vent our frustration If we don’t we’re gonna blow a fifty-amp fuse”
You can’t always get what you want You can’t always get what you want You can’t always get what you want But if you try sometimes, well, you just might find You get what you need
I went down to the Chelsea drugstore To get your prescription filled I was standing in line with Mr. Jimmy And man, did he look pretty ill We decided that we would have a soda My favorite flavor, cherry red I sung my song to Mr. Jimmy Yeah, and he said one word to me, and that was “dead” I said to him
You can’t always get what you want You can’t always get what you want You can’t always get what you want But if you try sometimes you just might find You get what you need
You get what you need, yeah, oh baby
I saw her today at the reception In her glass was a bleeding man She was practiced at the art of deception Well, I could tell by her blood-stained hands
You can’t always get what you want You can’t always get what you want You can’t always get what you want But if you try sometimes you just might find You just might find You get what you need
You can’t always get what you want You can’t always get what you want You can’t always get what you want But if you try sometimes you just might find You just might find You get what you need, oh yeah
by, Keith Richards and Mick Jagger Released in 1969 on the album Let It Bleed
“We often take for granted the very things that most deserve our gratitude.” – Cynthia Ozick
Up until 2020, summer was a fairly predictable time of year. I could plan trips and get togethers with friends and family…without a second thought. Including return visits to favorite summer festivals and fairs.
I painfully realize now how much I took all of that for granted…thinking oh we can come back next summer…when the 2019 schedule got crowded. This summer…it’s all cancelled.
I actually look forward to the seasonal chore of storing away sweaters, hats and mittens. And then dragging out the “summer clothes” from a high closet shelf. Pulling out shorts, T-shirts and sandals. Ready For Summer.
Well, I can still switch the clothes around…but that’s about it.
However…thinking back on life “before”…
During my earlier days of parenthood, summer always included extra family time together with my children. Camera always in hand.
Nothing fancy. Sometimes just day trips…
York Wild Animal Kingdom, Maine 1993
For over 20 years we established a family tradition. A week away…to connect and just enjoy each other. Most vacations were only a 90 minute drive to a special place on Lake Winnipesaukee in New Hampshire. The last 2 were cross country on the California coast.
San Diego, California 2000
Fast forward about 17 years…and summer included the next generation…
Hampton Beach, NH 2017
During the 36+ years we lived in a house with a yard, we delighted in beds of flowers that exploded into life every summer.
One of our favorites: black eyed susans…
We have continued one summertime activity through the years, despite moving to a condo and emptying the nest. Picking fresh blueberries! They are amazing when eaten within hours (or days) of being picked.
One of our neighbors, where we used to live, let us pick from his carefully tended bushes. Now we visit a local farm that has a “pick your own” field of blueberry bushes. Fortunately you can still do this during a pandemic by following the posted rules: Wear a Mask and Social Distance.
I almost missed witnessing a clandestine dewdrop convention during a walk last week. Fortunately a glint of sun caught my eye…stopping me in my tracks.
What is that?
I carefully trespassed a few yards onto an expanse of lawn to investigate. Nobody was out and about…so I was safe to proceed.
First look:
How the heck were those drops hanging there? No signs of a cobweb that I could see.
Wouldn’t you like to expose your newer readers to some of your earlier posts that they might never have seen? Or remind your long term followers of posts that they might not remember? Each Friday I will publish a post I wrote on this exact date in a previous year….Why don’t you reach back into your own archives and highlight a post that you wrote on this very date in a previous year?
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I wonder about young children today. What will they remember in the years to come? Just staying distant and wearing masks?
Apparently bicycle riding has become more popular since the pandemic began – among those with access – so perhaps kids forced to stay “distant” will be more apt to gravitate toward solitary outdoor play such as this. I hope so.
“Zooming,” however, takes on a whole new meaning.
The following post was originally published on July 3, 2018
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Bicycles: Times Past
Irene Waters’ “Times Past” prompt challenge topic for this month is: Bicycles.
I am a baby boomer and grew up in the suburbs of New York and New Jersey, USA
I remember always having some type of 2 or 3 wheeled transportation to call my own when I was a kid.
1956
I started off on a tricycle and stepped up to a “big girl” bike around the age of 5 or 6. Pink, with coaster brakes and a loud horn, this bike was my ticket to freedom – once I fully learned how to stop…. My most vivid bicycle memory is the day my father removed my training wheels. I started pedaling in front of our house – at first wobbly – but with my father’s hand steadying the back I managed to remain upright. I picked up speed as I – by myself!- headed toward the end of the street. After flying by 2 or 3 houses I realized I had absolutely no idea how to slow down and stop. Either nobody told me it was the same as with the training wheels or I simply forgot. Brain cramp. So what did I do? I clearly remember the heart thudding moment-of-panic as I made a split second decision (perhaps my first and that’s why I remember it so well). I steered into the curb and fell over onto the asphalt. Nothing broken. Just a few bumps, scrapes and bruises. Lesson learned.
circa 1959 – my new bike (sister not impressed…)
Despite my early braking mishap, I absolutely loved riding a bike and rode with no fear. When I outgrew (or wore out) the pink one, I got a bigger white bike in the 5th grade. Coaster brakes again. In those days, still no helmet. Despite the fact that my father kept accidentally bumping his car into my “new white bike” (as noted in my diary) it lasted quite a few years. The garage was small for a car plus multiple bikes. There were 4 kids by then.
When I was 10 and 11, I often rode to the small grocery store/strip mall that was 6+ blocks away. Errands for my mother or to get bubble gum and comics for myself. Or sometimes to sample all the perfume spray testers at the drug store with my girlfriend Kathleen. It was mostly downhill from my house. I’d start at our backyard (which bordered another backyard) and take off bumping over grass, tree roots, gravel and into the neighbor’s yard in back. I’d jump the bike over their curb and into the street, turning right. Zooming past about 4 houses, I turned left and then…the best part – a hill straight down bisecting at least 4 streets on the way to the main road and my destination…the Acme! The drug store! My hands flung out to the side. Feet off the pedals. The wind. Nothing like it before or since. Sometimes I’d shut my eyes for a second or two. Riding back home…uphill…was another story altogether; but totally worth it.
Bike riding was crucial to my quest for exploring the vast suburban wilderness. The many blocks to the candy store, the woods at the end of the street, my friend Kathleen’s house two blocks away. My parents didn’t and couldn’t track me. “Be home by….” was all the direction I got. Priceless freedom.
When I neared the end of high school, I saved up and bought a “folding” bike which I brought to my summer job at a camp in NH. It saved space during travel and was fairly simple to store. I also brought it with me to college where I rode it from one end of campus to the other. Since my first car took center stage after college graduation, I sold my folding bike and moved on.
As an adult – in my late 30’s or early 40’s – I owned a bike again. I wore a helmet. I rode it around the rural neighborhood street where we were raising our kids. Around and around. Kind of boring. I was no longer as fearless. And what’s with the hand brakes??
one letter UP ~ diary 2.0 