Washington DC..Cherry Blossom Time

"How many, many things
They call to mind
These cherry-blossoms!"

"How many, many things the blossoms in this photo call to mind, too.

Like… just how many are there? Lots!

The Japanese sure do know how to make nice looking river scenery in spring."

 Basho

Recently him and I took a trip to Washington D.C.  to see the Cherry Blossom Festival.  It had been on our bucket list for a very long time.  In New England spring never comes early and sometimes it doesn't come at all, we just get mud season, which is not exciting at all.  I wanted to feel the warmth of the sun.  I wanted to walk outside without being cold and I wanted to see trees and flowers blooming.  I think it was more important this year than any other.  We've been a bit down with all the trouble going on in the world and listening to news is not really an option anymore.  I am not naive about the happenings going on but a break from it all just seemed right, so this trip made perfect sense to us.  We live in a beautiful world.  Not a perfect one, but a beautiful one.  So for that week, we choose the beauty that was out there..beautiful blossoms that took your breath away.  Cotton candy colors and other trees blooming also.  Flowers and blue sky most everyday...and also beautiful people wherever we went.  I felt the sun on my face, I wore a sweater instead of a coat and the wildlife and greens of the forest were a delight...I know not everyone can get away so I thought, one more time, that I would take you back to Washington D.C., the beautiful part of the city...and let the rest go...it's what I needed to do to restore myself.  Maybe after your visit here, you'll add it to your bucket list also. No hurry, the trees will be there for a very long time I hope, spreading their beauty every spring.

 

Now, just a few of the people and buildings of Washington right close to the reflection pool.

So this is just a snapshot really of all the beauty we found on this spring trip to our Nation's Capitol.  I hope you felt a bit of the beauty here and now will go find the beauty in your own backyard...C

Come back again next time when I'll take you to Virginia...which is an all together different kind of beauty...

Cherry Blossom Time

Washington D.C., April 1st, 2017, Cherry Blossom Time...I get to check another one off my bucket list.  I'm really going after the bucket list this year.  Cherry Blossom time has been on the list for many years and quite by accident we got to go this year.  There was some talk of the cherry trees not having as many blooms because of a late March snowstorm and that storm did damage some of the trees but not nearly as many as had been predicted.  Of course we did not know this until we got there, so can you imagine our surprise and joy, at seeing this most amazing extravaganza of pink when we finally got to the basin. It simply filled our senses. A beautiful photo everywhere you turned. Lovely and happy people. The sun was in and out but it was warm.  I survived the metro in, but that's for another day, and more than once, I gave thanks for the beauty that surrounded us.  Yes, folks, this was what was happening in Washington D.C.  It is such a lovely realization that some things are not touched by politics but simply by nature.  The gift given to us by the Japanese. The plantings of cherry trees originated in 1912 as a gift of friendship to the People of the United States from the People of Japan. In Japan, the flowering cherry tree, or "Sakura," is an exalted flowering plant. The beauty of the cherry blossom is a potent symbol equated with the evanescence of human life and epitomizes the transformation of Japanese culture throughout the ages.  I am thankful for this gift. So for all of you who won't be able to make it to Washington...I gift you the beauty that came to us that day.

I know, this last one is not from a cherry tree...but a magnolia tree.  It speaks so much of early spring that I had to include it..

It is spring time now! While the world looks for a new war to fight, you look for a cherry blossom to watch! Let the stupid seek the violence; you seek the elegance!

Mehmet Murat Ildan

I sat with the above quote for awhile, not sure if I wanted to post that on my beautiful page.  In the end, the world is what it is.  I can't change it but on any given day, I can change myself.  I choose to look for the beauty and elegance that cannot be taken away from us.  I choose spring and re-newed faith in myself. That I will continue to live in nature and light for as long as I can...and in doing so, I will continue to knock things off my bucket list, no matter where the bucket takes me.  Courage does not mean you aren't afriad, it just means you do it anyways...how else to get to the beauty.

The Many Gifts of St. Maarten

As I sit here in the middle of Blizzard Stella, with the snow swirling and the wind whipping nuggets of hard packed snow on the window above my desk...I take myself away to a warmer and gentler day.  A day where the breeze was gentle, slapping my face in the most comforting way.  Embracing me with it's warmth, relaxing every bone in my body.  Winters in New England are tough and they can last a long, long time, that's why a winter escape is necessary, if you can manage it.  That's what helps me get through days like today. Don't get me wrong, there is so much beauty in winter.  I love to see the snow and the sense of quiet that it brings.  It locks me in and slows me down and I appreciate the enforced retreat to be with just myself and my muse. I think of it as a free day. A Gift. Sometimes though, it goes on just a tad to long and it can be mighty fierce.  That's when I go back to St. Maarten...just to remind myself.  Time does not stand still and soon it will be warm and wonderful here also...

 

I hope you enjoyed my little tour of parts of the Island of St. Maarten.  It is always warm, it is always sunny and it is always relaxing...When I'm there, I love it and enjoy all that the Island has to offer.  Then when I'm home I'm right back into New England...because the truth is, no matter how far we travel, how long we are gone, whatever we do and experience while we are away...there is no place like home..So tomorrow, when my feet hit the floor and the bedroom shade goes up on a new day...whatever is waiting for me outside that window will make me happy...hopefully there will still be some snow to grab a shot of...but I did enjoy my little visual jaunt back to the lovely Island of St. Maarten...I'll tell you another little secret...it's always best when the boys and Jenna come...

Just Around The Bend

Ever since I was a little girl I have loved to "just go for a ride".  See what we might find.  Back then, rides were not easy to come by as most of my family did not have a car.  When one of my aunt's came, or when my Dad was home on his leave from the Army...we would sometimes take a Sunday drive.  I loved those days, especially if we stopped for ice cream on the way home.

I still love taking those drives...and one of the things that I do, and I would bet many of you also do, is dream about the inside of certain houses that I pass...like the one above.  Lace curtains, front porches, pretty lights and flowers and also I get a sense that inside "that" house it is warm, cozy and filled with wonderful smells and a sense of  peace. Perhaps someone is sitting in a big, wrap around chair by a fire, reading a lovely book, with that perfect cup of tea in a china cup.  Now I'm not sure why certain houses stir those kinds of memories but they just do.   

This is Route 100 in Vermont...it is one of the most picturesque roads in New England.  Sweet, gently winding roads full of farms,cows and horses in the fields, road side stands and country stores.  I love this old country road.  The houses on it evokes memories of days gone by..like something you would see in a Norman Rockwell painting..fall is particularly beautiful in Vermont...this house, right on the bend in the road, with the light and deep shadows and just the perfect amount of reds, orange and yellows took me back to what I think were gentler times.  Those  upstairs windows stirred some deep memory and I would have like to have visited.  

I love Sunday rides, any day of the week.  Just to go and see what happens. When my kids were little and now with the boys...I would always tell them we were going on an adventure and they think that is really cool...so now, before the snow flies and it gets to cold, take yourself on an adventure, stir up some warm hearted memories and when you do, record them either in your camera or in your heart.

I should also remind you that in the winter, after a fresh falling snow, close to Christmas, ride by a few houses at dusk...and think about what's going on it there... lights in windows, trees dancing with ornaments, chestnuts roasting on a open fire, Christmas carols playing softly in the background...and babies dreaming of sugar plums.. 

Texture KK Heartbeat at 25% 

The Kiss...Part 2

Once upon a time there was a young girl with a big love for her Navy man...but so many obstacles stood  in her  way.  Once upon a time stories, are usually fairy tales, but not this time.  That young, pretty girl, found her courage and stood her ground against all the forces that were against her, all the people that would have tried to persuade her not to go...but instead she followed her heart, across this country,  at what expense I do not know. Not only did she go and find her man, she married him.  That brave girl was my Mom and if you read the original blog post of the Kiss, you will be familiar with why part 2 in necessary.

I came across the beginning of the story after finding the above photo in my Father's belongings after he died. A few years after that I had taken a trip to San Diego and saw the statue of the Kiss.  I read the placque and saw the dates and at that moment I knew that those were the times my Mom and Dad would have been involved with each other but I didn't know the story of their marriage, although I did know it was in Seattle..so when the photo's emerged I started my journey to follow my Mom and try to recreate, as best I could, her journey to reach her man.  All I had was a photo, my aunt who filled me in a bit and the internet to get me started. Without these photo's I would still not know of my Mother's journey both figuratively and personally.

The very first thing I did was look up St. Benedict's church, Seattle Washington.  Amazingly it was there. I made a phone call to be sure that it was still a parish church, it was and I wrote down the address...and then I added Seattle Washington to my bucket list.  Two weeks ago, with that photo in hand and my Father's date of  March 1945 on the back, a phone number for the church...Jim and I were on our way.  It was a surreal experience for me..because my Mom never shared this part of her journey with any of us kids...and I was feeling sad about that...but off I went.

  

We arrived in Seattle Washington after two long years of waiting and it couldn't have been more beautiful..after checking into our hotel..I was eager to get off to finish this journey both for me and for my Mom.  On a tree lined, neighborhood street, with the color of fall and sunlight all around me , we found our destination, St. Benedict's church. I was both nervous and excited to see what I would discover.  The first thing was that the church looked nothing like the church in my photo and my heart skipped a beat thinking I was to late.  I'm not sure I would have handled that very well.  Instead what I found was the school...that school matched my photo.  Well, I was happy for that bit.  Next we were shown to the office of the Administrative Assistant and I do believe God had a hand in my finding her, and this is where I learned of my parents marriage...when Becky pulled out the old, very large, record book I was holding my breath that their names would not be in there.  They were, but surprisingly enough..they were married on February 2, 1945, not in March as my Father had dated the photo..we were able to find out about their baptism's and also who stood up for them. It turns out they were friends of my Dad's.. I felt like I had come home in some small way.  Their presence was very strong that day and at the that time in particular...Becky,and another lovely lady and I talked of what that journey would have been like and how my Mom could even have gotten married there because she was not Catholic.  I had always thought she was married in that church but they were most likely married in the Pastor's office or another room..she would not have been allowed to marry in the church santuary at that time...and one last surprise..my grandfather, whom we always knew as Alfred was not Alfred at all but William...but I'm not going to chase that mystery.

I came a long way to find the roots of my Mother and Father...and I felt good about knowing that some stories I heard were not true and that they really just wanted to be together...so with photo in hand Jim and I went and stood where they stood, the same way that they stood because they wanted to show those naysayers that yes, indeed they were married.  So their rings were the focus of that original photograph. The building was the same..but a bench was added and the Mass sign was removed when the new church was built...but we stand in their spot...finally.

I sat for awhile on that bench and I thought of my Mother's journey...and I felt so sad for her...she had no one to support her, to be with her as she wed the love of her life...and although my parents did divorce much later, I do believe they had that one love that we are all hoping for.  She traveled during war time, most likey on a train for many days..a young, beautiful woman alone. It was a bittersweet moment for me, in the coming to be in her spot...almost like I was telling her I wish I could have been there for her..cheering her on for her bravery and knowing her own mind...making her own dreams come true...I even wish that many years later she could have shared this with me, trusting that I would have understood her need to go.  I do believe that back in those days...so many things were so private...but I'm thinking that if she were to see this post it would set her free, just as it sets me free now.  It also gives me a much better understanding of those time and a what a truly strong woman she was...as Becky and I were pondering this journey and I was questioning my Mom's coming and then the eventual divorce...Becky said to me..."she came because she loved your Dad...that's all you really need to know...she loved him".. And that is my take away from this trip...Once upon a time...a young girl headed west...and many years later her daughter found her.

Anthem

by Jim Daniels

Two months after retirement 
my father is here, to get away 
from 6 A.M. and his cup 
of empty destination. 

At a football game we huddle 
under his umbrella
talking about the obvious. 
He brings me coffee 
to hold warm between my hands, 
a gift of no occasion. 

When we rise for the anthem 
I hear the rusty crack of his voice 
for the first time maybe ever. 

Thirty-three years of coughing 
thick factory air, of drifting to sleep 
through the heavy ring of machinery, 
of twelve-hour days. In my sleep 
I felt the cold bump of his late-night kiss.

I shiver in the rain 
as my father sings me 
what now I hear as 
a children's song. I lean into him, 
the umbrella and rain my excuse, 
my shoulder against his, 
and I imagine my mother 
falling in love.

"A sight, an emotion, creates this wave in the mind, long before it makes words to fit it." Virginia Woolf.

Two notes...a special thank you to Becky Ortiz from St. Benedict's for her help in researching this marriage and also a thank you to the other girl who took us around and told of stories of those days and how it might have been...I am so sorry I didn't get her name...

Finally...check out my Mom's shoes...how cool are they...so glad she had them.  Probably why I'm like I am...