Sunday, February 8, 2015
There were many breaks in the weather those few days before Christmas, but the view from inside was nothing short of a miracle. And the miraculous is really what the season is about. Nature provided this for us. There are no seasonal reminders except for the poinsettia in the foreground of the Turtles back window view. And as the days progressed and receded like the ocean, I was to find many more miracles awaiting me. Including the raccoon that ate our appetizers, while Carol, Jim and I were enjoying a fire made from dried palm fronds.
Saturday, October 25, 2014
Once upon a time, I had waterfront property. Now I am home and landlubbed. Looking from my loft window, a sea of blue-green and red- gold washes up on the breeze. In Winter, I see Max Patch in the next county gleaming like a glacier. Or, I can peer down on my teeny pond where the American Bullfrog who sat on a lily pad all summer, dives deep into mud for refuge. Last week I parked The Turtle on the shores of Lake Hartwell, Georgia at the end of a cove and watched the world go by. Without moving an inch. Except when I hung my Lumix around my neck and took off pedaling my little red folding bike before dawn. My launching for this trip was along the shores of the Swannanoa River near Black Mountain. My eyes have seen The Glory reflected in water moving and water still. Still I can't quite figure out what to do with all this wealth I inherited.
Friday, September 26, 2014
I am not sure I would have made it without my friends and family on this trip from my home in Spring Creek, NC (near Hot Springs and Asheville, ) through Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania, New York (The Hudson River Valley, Albany, Adirondacks,Lake George, Lake Champlain, Lake Ontario, Lake Erie and Niagara Falls) Ohio and West Virginia. But I am sure I had a hell of a lot more fun by including them in my itinerary! Thanks to all of you. You are priceless.
Thursday, September 25, 2014
Saturday, September 20, 2014
How can one leave home and never have left home at the same time? That is what it feels like when I am camping in The Turtle. I am the driver, but many times it feels like I have been transported to my camping spot by something else. I wake up in the morning to see a new scene as if I were on a train in the sleeping car or on a cruise ship sailing between exotic islands while I slumbered.
At other times, I am working hard to keep things ship- shape in, out, around and on top of The Turtle.
I am the chief cook and bottle washer. The mechanic. The map reader. I keep the fires burning and the tanks full. I cross my fingers a lot and my toes and whatever else needs crossing to keep her on the road.
She has taught me to stay in the moment, to let go at every turn, and to trust myself.
I thought I paid for The Turtle, but it turns out she was a gift from the Universe. I thought I was the sole owner, but I am sure my friends and family own a share. I know this because they treat us as if we were their own with loving care when we arrive out of nowhere at their doorstep.