Awakening

"Every day is ordinary," Father Willibald said, "until it isn't." -- Bernard Cornwell, Death of Kings

Last Sunday, it was Spring. Oh, there have been warmer days this winter, and since then it has returned to cold nastiness, but last Sunday, it was Spring. I could hear it, smell it, feel it. The hawks were going crazy, calling and chasing each other above the trees. The cardinals were singing their spring song, so different than their winter noises, so full of joy. The branches of the maple trees were swelling with red buds. And as we discovered when we went to the Cincinnati Nature Center, the wildflowers were out!

Hellebores, their purple globes hanging heavy above nests of thick green leaves, 

carpets of yellow wood anemones bursting like little suns from the forest floor, 

and tiny clumps of snowdrops nodding their delicate heads toward the cover of last year's leaves.

It is visceral in me, this feeling, this knowing. It makes me sad that so many people are cut off from the natural world, with little knowledge of, or interest in, the movements of earth and life. I regret this de-evolution of humans, in my mind, to the point where most in our society have lost the connection with the rest of nature. And I am eternally grateful to my father, Dayton, for instilling in me the love and hunger for nature from an early age. He would take me hiking in the wooded hills around Dubuque, Iowa, and through the countryside surrounding our cottage at Crystal Lake. He told me the names of all that he knew, the birds, trees and flowers; but more importantly we just walked and talked. I think my love of the outdoors is tied up in the wonderful memories of those early times together. 

I have tried to instill that same love in my own kids. It's harder now, but when they were little we spent many hours catching tadpoles and throwing milkweed fluff to the wind. It is my great hope that someday -- not now, for they are teenagers and have more immediate concerns -- but someday, they feel this same awakening, this love for and connection to the world around them. It is so vital, and I would hate to see it lost to the young of the world.

"It's a Dangerous Business,

Frodo, going out of your door," he used to say. "You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to." 

And so I'm off. When I first heard of blogs, my initial thought was, "Why would anyone want to do that?" But since then I've come to realize it may have a benefit. Journaling, they say, is good for the soul, but since my hand no longer seems made for holding a pen, any journaling I do will most likely be typed. As for photos, it seems that most of the sharing I do on Facebook these days is in the form of pictures, and I often find myself wanting to delve deeper into the "why" of the pictures than that forum encourages. 

While my own journey has been going on for 48 years, it seems to be taking more turns lately than it has in a while, with interesting possibilities popping up and seemingly endless choices before me. And the camera...well, there is always a camera attached. My kids will sometimes say "Mom, put your camera down and just enjoy the view!" For me, though, that is how I enjoy the view. Photography makes me see the world as light, composition, beauty, irony, and brings me to things I would otherwise pass by.

So off I go, without a pocket handkerchief, perhaps, but with my trusty new Pentax k-5ii, to see where the road leads...