Presence

Back at the field's edge this morning, the sun didn't show itself right away because of cloud cover. When it finally burst through, much later than yesterday, this set of trees once again stood out in the space. I felt as if the larger tree and I were aware of each other's presence, which made me smile. Its extended branches took on the appearance of arms wide open, raised towards the sky.

Fog is expected for tomorrow morning, too. It's been a good week for morning peace and inspiration!

The gift of an hour

Down the street, the sunrise calls 

I'm still recovering from being sick for two weeks through Thanksgiving break and beyond. With just a remnant cough, tender throat, and headache now and then, I think I'm making it.  During that stretch of time, my morning and daily habits changed towards self-care and away from caffeine and device overconsumption.  Instead of starting the day with two cups of coffee and jumping on the screen, I now enjoy hot lemon water with honey in a lovely ceramic Japanese tea cup.  The biggest bonus is drinking it in quiet and not rushing onto my computer and phone to kick into my daily dose of screen time. I'm giving myself one hour before I engage with other than what is within and around me. I'm surprised by how much I've missed and what I'm able to appreciate and cultivate in that one hour.

I have made it part of my morning routine in the past to step under our Live Oak in the front yard and peek down the street to see what's happening in the field. In my more aware and present state this morning, and yesterday's, too, I smiled big when viewing the low fog sitting in the field with an emerging orange glow in the backdrop. It was so lovely to take a walk for a closer view. I remembered from last year at this time that the sun rises in just the right spot for me to see it peeking through and over the tree line. It's an exciting moment to see if you've made it on time to wait for the rise instead of arriving in the midst. Either way, she's a beauty in her bright and intense orange glow as the field mist waits to come alive in her light.

From the field's edge, I watched and wow'd, as she rose and illuminated the space. I moved with her to experience the different views and creations of shadow, light and mist. Yes, I still get upset when I see that clearing has occurred during construction phases, but they've done a good job keeping a few young trees and removing overgrowth of weeds and plants. Tree curves stood out and were flattered by the light, casting shadows across the dewy grass. The old farm building is more clearly viewed, and it became part of the landscape story, too.

Thank you, one hour of time, for challenging me to improve my ways to appreciate and be present.  It's much better to enter the world in peaceful ways. Grateful.

My place is of the sun

A healing space that knows

I peeked down my street this morning into the field space blocks away to find a mist waiting to rise with the sun.  Scooted around getting on my another layer of clothes with my all time favorite 18 year old Ecuadorian El Paca wool sweater on top.  Once this sweater comes out for its season intro, I reconnect to a strong spirit inside from years back, and it always makes me smile.  Jumped on my bike right after packing my husband's iPhone6 for the ride to the field.  Without a working camera these days, I've been in a different zone of seeing and appreciating life.  Today I really wanted it with me to keep the door of light exploration open.

Making a last moment decision, I made a left into the new development to get the whole field view instead of riding into the back field.  The mist already glowed with orange water crystals, and I knew that it would soon be gone.  Once arriving at the turn facing the open space of gold, I left my bike in the dried 'creek' bed and freed myself to walk around.

I immediately noticed that some work had been done clearing brush and young trees, and I scanned the area to see which familiar and welcoming landmarks of the past were gone.  I was relieved to see the old corner oak still watching over the span, and the "Goddess" trees remained by its side.  Without the overgrown areas, trees stood taller together and they welcomed the sun and broke the light into shadows and joy.

This was the second weekend that I had visited since I started a new teaching job 11 days ago.  It is so wearing on my spirit, and my feelings of inadequacies in meeting the needs of the teens overwhelm me.  Saturday helped me begin to recover and regain self, and this morning it was an automatic to seek the company of peace.  I feel safe in this space, as if it knows why I seek a visit.  Possibly in a way I'm its companion, too, as I've watched it change and redefine itself over the past few years.

Thank you, Aina, "spirit of the land", for what you share.




PS - I'm amazed with the quality of these iPhone6 images.  Untouched except for cropping.  :))))  Upgrading from my non-smart phone may just be what I do while I save for a pro body.

Contemplate

“Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts. There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature -- the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after winter.” - Rachel Carson

Morning delight

Our mornings have been cool, bright and beautiful with stunning blues and dashes of budding greens in the trees.  I usually step outside for nanoseconds to breathe it in, then jump back inside of our busy morning routine getting ready for school and work.  Today I just had to run outside after I saw a surprise fog suddenly appear on our street outside of the kitchen window.  I ran to the front door to see if it was in fact Mother Nature treating us to a late morning fog, which I so love.  It was indeed, so while running to grab my camera I scooted the girls to take a look, too.  It really was lovely, with the misted air picking up the filtered sunlight through the trees.  I love the magic, and it becomes a source of beauty to power the day.

Self-proclaimed fog holidays

I hereby proclaim that on foggy mornings I be released of all mothering and work duties to play outside as my spirit wills.

Gah, all I wanted to do today was wake up and run outside through the darkness and fog.  It was thick and so tempting, and the magic that happened once the sun rose to illuminate the moisture didn't make it any easier.  I did step out for some fun under the trees in our backyard.  The colors and air were so lovely and embracing.  I completely loved it!

Morning blue

From inside the fallen tree in the farm field, I sat on the limbs to watch sunrise.  Just last January the same beautiful tree stood tall and inspired 'The Gift' and in March 'Glory'.  How surreal to be with its remains left behind by the developers as if there was still something to be shared and shown.  Being on my own out there allowed me to really settle in, be still, and look.  From going in close to the the droplets and pulling out to seeing the whole, each image is part of the story that morning and a reminder of what was.

 

In this I find myself

An approach to the 'Worship' trees through the passage of the elder corner tree and across the middle field.

A bit of time walking along the row of trees, getting reacquainted and appreciating my return home to this familiar space.  It was my first time back there in about two months.


I found myself settling into this set of photos tonight, 1.03.13, while searching for some release and connection to something I knew.  I looked through plenty of images, and these are the ones which made my heart move and smile.   This space and my days walking through the empty fields will always heal me and bring me wonder.  Peace.

Let yourself fall in love again

Morning work on road where the tall trees once stood

A recent realization that all of the old and tall beautiful trees I've photographed on the Ford property left me feeling a strange sense of suspension.  Something incomplete in their documentation and appreciation.  As I stood there on the edge of the new road now taking their place there's an emptiness to the sky and a feeling of disorientation.  Is this really the place I spent my mornings walking for the past year or so?  I suppose the loss takes me back to my "Redefine" post once again in which I realize that there is now space to see something new.  Discover a new path and perspective with what I have in front of me.  Do I really want to 'fall in love' with another tree, another spot, another place to be during my quiet morning moments while walking?  Possibly if I don't look at the beauty as long term and appreciate the gift in the moment to fully soak it up I'll be ready to let it go each day.  When it comes time for another tree to be knocked down, for another place to be to change, maybe the loss won't be so striking to me as the others were.

Here is the tree and location as seen this morning.  I've walked by it, but because it is nestled in the far corner from the others I've photographed, I never spent time near it.  This tree is along the same line of the others cleared for the new drainage and road but has been untouched by machinery.  It's the only intact place to stand right now amidst the development.  My dog led my there and it really was like seeing it for the very first time.  Beautiful and old, reaching and strong.  Through the space below its limbs there's a view of the middle field and places I've been.   It's almost a window into the past, a look into the paths taken and appreciated that are now a part of me.  The remaining beauty really stood out to me there today, and I plan to scoot into this spot again.

Partial lunar eclipse

6.06.12: 
My dog woke me at 4:30 AM as if she knew that I wanted to head out to the levee to try to see the partial lunar eclipse.  I took her out into our backyard and saw a light in the sky and knew I had to make it.  By the time I arrived, the light was just a smear and disappeared because of the clouds.  I set up anyway hoping for a brief peek out and waited.  Luckily, the moon found a clearing, and in the hazy, humid air I got to see it with Earth's shadow.  There was a soft glow to it, and when looking back at the image, I get a sense of the feeling it carried. 

Glory

What glory to arrive at the farm field during my morning walks and see such a scene.  I took this during a quick visit with Sparkle, just before work.  I knew that I was running short of time and nearly turned back, but just couldn't do it.  The mix of wet gold and greens in the presence of the tree took me in to be with the rising sun.

The Gift

 This morning I planned to go to the local lake to see the visiting pelicans.  A friend had let me borrow his 

f 2.8 70-200mm lens, and I wanted to try some captures with the birds in motion.  Of course I peeked down the street and into the farm fields to gauge what was happening with the sun.  The day before there had been tremendous, and like a magnet, the potential with the fog and rising sun to create something fantastic was there.  I drove by in my car, and sat looking in from the new streets of the development.  Once the sun started breaking through, and this time in full force, the field became a glowing orb of orange gold.  The surrounding trees stayed blue and ready, but within the area came alive with color.

I have images with just the large tree and the sun, but it is this one giving a sense of the expansion that says more.

Worship

I ran back to the tree line with the moss when I saw the splinter of orange light coming through the clouds and fog.  I moved back and forth to prepare, to look, and absorb the look of the Spanish moss in the tree limbs.  I was preparing for something, knew to look and go towards it. When the sun burst through I was spellbound by the light being held by the air, and as it became brighter I put my arms out wide like the trees and breathed.  I heard one of my father's favorite sayings, "I'm high on life!", that he exclaimed during special moments.  Actually I should say I felt the words as the sun continued to light up the sky and everything amped up the beauty around me.  I cried, too, because the feelings were so strong and the scene so powerful.

Somehow in a state of awe I photographed a collection of images I call "Worship".  The trees limbs reach up like arms to the sky as if celebrating.  I didn't see the effects of placing the sun behind the center trunk until viewing them at home with the center tree trunk in the darkest shadow and the limbs in the light.  The first image is shared because it is the burst of light that first illuminated the space.  I selected the second because the sky and intricacies of the trees are visible, as well as a feeling of the fog in the air.  I have others that I'm still brewing on, and these could all possibly switch around.  Right now, these two represent the moment with the sun.

The beginning

It was a work day for me, and I was up early with some "extra" time.  Sparkle wanted to walk, and I usually need to delay taking her out on one until my return home.  This day we head out, and when I looked down the street to see fog mixed with purple and pinks, I worried about getting back in time for my day.  We trekked in for a bit, and approached very slowly as to soak in what was happening in front of us.  The colors were brilliant and beautiful, and the feeling sacred.


Unfortunately my kit lens had totally become dysfunctional while away during the holidays, but I had figured out how to use the full range of wide angle by putting the camera into video mode.  Sure, focusing was hit or miss through the backing screen, but it was good to be able to use something to record the image.  I found it very frustrating, but reminded myself that it was good to have something.


On this day the construction workers were arriving as I exited through the area being developed, and I stopped one more time to turn around and look at the scene.  The sun still hadn't broken through, but it showed glimmers of itself through the clouds and fog.  I was so excited about this that I must have been making a fool of myself.  They watched me probably wondering what the heck I was doing, so I held out my arms to the scene and shared my excitement.  One of these days I'll be brave enough to go over to them to take a few pictures because they're part of this story, too.

Welcome new light

1.03.12:

I owe a personal thank you to the airline attendant who helped us work out a seating nightmare by making multiple changes and hooking us up with a pair of seats on the east side of the plane.  My husband and older daughter had a pair on the west side, and I happily scooted into our two seater row with my youngest by the window.  The nicest thing about flying above the clouds at 6 AM is that you can always count on a sunrise.  This one was going to be special since it was the first one of 2012, so even before I saw anything I was excited.


I took plenty of photos, and was most excited by the subtle catch light on the wing of the plane.  I was having troubles with my lens again with it not functioning under certain focal lengths, so I used the trick of shooting in video mode.  For whatever reason my lens will work at all focal lengths under that setting.  Taken I don't have the same controls and the resolution isn't as high, but I could work around that in order to capture a few images.


I'm guessing that I stopped taking pictures, to the relief of the young man sitting behind us, after about an hour.  After that time I was paying more attention to the emergency medical situation of the woman in front of me who couldn't breathe properly without an oxygen tank, but that I will save for another post and set of documentary photos.



So here are a handful + from the many.

The coming of the sun on New Year's morning 2012.