~Upstream and Down~

Carrying the torch~ Like a wedding after a whirlwind romance, the inauguration of our 44th president captured the country's heart--and the world's: a ceremony of promise and hope. All new relationships start with hope. To a country with a debilitated economy and fractured expectations nothing is needed more at the moment the torch is passed from one administration to another than this positive emotion. Hope! And change. Things will change. Change is constant. Change comes from making choices, or not making them. Things will change. We hope it will be positive. And here is where hope is tested. When the emotional high fades, and real life resumes as it always does, differences that seemed easily surmounted stand out starkly. Change--what must change and how--is clarified. Disagreements arise. Ideologies diverge. Goodwill dissipates. Hope fades. And without hope we lose ourselves. Many have already stated what they believe are the most critical issues the presi

In this fourth New England snowstorm--a beautiful one with snow falling gently and clinging to trees--I took my camera and braved the poorly plowed roads to capture the beauty in pixels. Feeling expansive, thinking of the nation poised to inaugurate a new president, I chose my wide-angle lens to shoot landscapes. I'm aware that my mood, my mindset, controls my photography. I was not in the mood today for close focus, certainly not the minute detail a macro lens allows, and I had already zoomed in on birds waiting in the tree by the driveway for their turn at the feeder. I wanted to think about the country while I focused on the beauty of the countryside. I don't know what the future holds. I listen to the president elect's words on the radio in my truck and think how he has not provided specifics, but he's fed hope to a hungry nation . . . a nourishing meal, as long as it lives up to its promise. I'm anxious for a breath of fresh air that a new administrati

I can’t . . . won’t . . . judge the combatants in the Israeli Palestinian battle in Gaza. There are plenty who have strong opinions; plenty who think one side—either one--is justified, but not the other. Plenty have voiced their thoughts . . . some in words that are as piercing as the weapons soaring across the border. Words are weapons, too. Incendiary as bombs, they injure; they imprison others in hate. They strike without warning. “Sticks and stones can break my bones, but words can never hurt me.” Not physically, maybe, but they do hurt. Eventually it becomes physical. Thoughts. Words. War. How many degrees of separation? I do have opinions, but what good are they? What do I know, really? This issue goes back so far that my fifty plus years of sheltered living in the United States are not nearly enough for me to grasp the hate, the rivalry, the fight to the death mentality that is part of the middle east, and has been for centuries. I’m naïve enough to wonder why everybody can’t

We love new beginnings. Time to start fresh, forgive others, forgive ourselves. A time to try, try again. And at the stroke of midnight here’s our chance: a new year. Unmarked. Like fresh snow. No mistakes. Like a newborn baby. Poor year has a hefty load to carry: all the hopes and dreams of the world. Hopes are pinned on 2009—all six plus billion of them—for peace, prosperity, blessings. Health, wealth, and good luck. Happiness. Happy New Year! But already we see the tracks in the snow. Awful ones in the Mideast. Terrible ones at a Beijing nightclub on the very stroke of the new year. Still more that carried over from the past year, and the one before that, unto the dawn of time. Yes, there will be joys and blessings this year, too. Many. I’ve experienced some already. But I prefer to take my blessings--and sorrows--one 365th of the year at time. One day at a time. Happy New Day! ~~~~~ We will open the book. Its pages are blank. We are going to put words on them ourselves. The book i