With wisdom, strength, and beauty

These are my days since returning to teaching. With grand Live Oaks greeting the sunrise and math students appreciative to work in a small group away from the noise of their packed classroom. It’s a nice way to begin and end a work day.

The release in stepping outside under a bright blue sky knowing you’ll see a sun dog, and you do. A knowing tree helps me block the sun as I look up to smile and soak it all in. No car to drive, but my feet to take me home in under fifteen.

There is a gift in this.

An opportunity.

The Ford trees squared

I finally finished my Instagram square of Ford Pasture tree photos.  Not one of these scenes remains, but are some of my favorites to remember and appreciate.

https://www.instagram.com/katowoman

I really, really liked this space - Ford Pasture

Today Sparkle rerouted during our morning walk to enter the field at the end of Sweetbriar through the fence.  As we approached, I heard the rumble of machinery.  It's Sunday morning around 8, construction equipment on the move, and your gut tells you that it's not for a good reason.

Turning towards the gate, through the brush at the end of the T, there is a small bulldozer pushing through the line of trees and overgrowth clearing the way.  I wondered which trees still stood beyond the fence, and as I went through, most checked in standing except for the sole tree in the distance which usually greeted me at the passage into the back field.

It lay there, root ball exposed and one of it's branched pointing upwards towards the sky, as the bulldozer moved near continuing to clear the line.  I hated that crackling sound, absolutely hated it.

We walked away from there and through the loop towards the east.  My anger gave way to sadness and the realization that this this space was in its final phase of existence.  It had been in the waiting for a handful of years, but today was the day that marked the reality of its destruction.  I felt it in my heart and cried.

I really, really liked this field, this Ford Pasture.

Its quiet was soothing and healing.
Its beauty really a gift and reminder of good things, big and small.
The trees had always been good storytellers of their many days.
The light.  I learned and loved its light.
I liked its magic and surprises.
Companion spirit, Hawk.  I wonder if he is feeling the loss, too.

I smile, though, remembering the man from Hawaii I met at a teacher conference a couple years ago. He taught me the word, 'Aina', the spirit of the land, when he heard me describe Ford Pasture.  He said that Hawaiians believe that the ancestors of a place speak to you through the land.  It carries time, history, and meaning.  I know that there are many people who have their own memories and appreciation of this space over the years.

Aina.

How fortunate to have had this special place to go.

            







          



*I wasn't going to include any photos of the clearing, and was initially only moved to review photos I had shared in this blog and in my archives.

This post made on October 18, 2011 includes the tree I speak of, as well as beginning indications that I would continue to visit the field.

To the tree
http://irenekatophotos.blogspot.com/2011/10/to-tree.html

All bog posts and photos of Ford Pasture
http://irenekatophotos.blogspot.com/search/label/Ford%20farm

             

From Timeline Photos

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Not alone

The fog drew me out to the field for a session with the trees on the leading edge of the field.

It was very quiet, with just the distant highway 10 rumble, hanging in the background.

Then a little, sweet song, volume high, permeated the space and trees.  So lovely a reminder that you're not alone.  As I enjoyed the beauty and calm of the scene, the little bird was there, too, appreciating his high perch and position to send out a message.

On my way home, these fuscia Japanese magnolia blooms slowed me down for a pretty look.  How thrilled I was by the background in green and the lens effects with the wet green.

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.

Find your way

I welcomed the return to the familiar space of the farm fields during a walk home at the end of the work week.  I didn't expect to step into the same as I had left it, probably months earlier, and things changed because of the continued construction.  What was a tunnel of tall green trees, now lay only covered from one side with the other bare and open.  Natural landmarks disappeared into the twine and tangle of thorny bush and overgrowth.  I was still able to sense my old path, yet it felt like something unknown and unexplored.  A fallen tree still remained and its large exposed roots and trunk guided me to opening edge of the vegetation.  I anticipated stepping into the more open back field, and when I finally made my way and looked toward the sun, it filtered through a lovely gathering of branches and leaves.  Almost like coming up for air and releasing myself, I pulled myself through and out, and into the clear.

Know and follow you instincts...

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!

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.

Return meanderings

After a long and rare nap, I stepped out earlier than usual with Sparkle for our walk.  I had been wanting to go the field since our return from NJ the day before, and without resistance, Sparkle led the way.  I didn't carry my camera but my cell phone, and I appreciated the opp to take a few pictures with it.  None in my collection were from my cell, and I thought it would be interesting to have a different look.  Well, field exploration ended up being minimal, and we found ourselves headed towards the middle school property which sits adjacent to the farm property.  I'm not sure what led her there, but it was such a great open space for views of the simple and pretty sky.   The colors were such swirls of summer, and the high humidity created a wonderful glow of  light.   There's something about these that I really appreciate, and possibly it's the feel of me coming back into myself following my trip.  The transition always takes time, and I'm not sure that it's ever complete.  Either way, this space helps me find the way.

The falling apart basketball hoops caught me eye, too.  :)

I speak for the trees

 I walked out on my own tonight to finally inspect which trees came down over the past couple of days.  It was dark, but I was able to see that the few trees that sat near the 'entry' into the back field are gone with the grass now with dirt in its place.  It's shocking to see, and will be even harder to look at in the morning.  I'd like to return to listen for the song birds that usually sat in the trees that were knocked down.  Where did they go?  Did they escape harms way? 

I continue to hear "The Lorax" quotes in my head as I go along.  This one brings together my concern for the wildlife that lived there:

The Lorax: Yes, I am the Lorax who speaks for the trees, which you seem to be chopping as fast as you please. But I'm also in charge of the brown Bar-ba-loots, who played in the shade in their Bar-ba-loot suits and happily lived eating truffula fruits. Now, thanks to your hacking my trees to the ground, there's not enough truffula fruit to go 'round!
The Once-ler: I see your point. Yes, I do see your point.
The Lorax: They loved living here. But I can't let them stay. They'll have to find food, and I hope that they may. Good luck, boys! Good luck!

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 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.