Tuesday, July 23, 2013


Though I took both cameras with me to the islands last weekend, I hadn't intended to spend time taking pictures: I wanted the trip to be about people, not images.  But I awoke to the ferry's foghorn on Friday morning, and couldn't resist the lure of the fog.

I told myself I'd just go down to the Neck, near the little cabin where we raised our girls; just shoot some of the old familiar scenes.  But those old familiar scenes are always changing -- new boats, old trees gone and new ones growing up -- and every day there's a new and different light in the sky.

I was thinking this morning that I've grown a bit complacent about meditation -- I haven't really been putting my heart in it lately, and that needs to change.  I might, when pressed, admit I've grown a bit complacent in my marriage as well; I need to give my husband a bit more attention, I think.

But I never seem to grow complacent about the beauty that is Shaw.  Why is it that my eyes are so much wiser than my heart?

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