Make your own kind of music

You've gotta make your own kind of music
Sing your own special song
Make your own kind of music
Even if nobody else sings along

This weekend held a lot of music.  Music sung by friends, and special groups.  There was a series of groups at our church for the Solomons Christmas Walk on Saturday evening.  From Gospel piano and sax to string quartet, a duo with vocal and guitar, to a trio of vocal harmonies the songs were unique and beautiful.  The amazing thing was that all of the performers stayed around after their sets and listened intently to a couple that followed. There was a mutual admiration for the variety of styles.  I loved how the string quartet and the Gospel piano/sax truly enjoyed the performance of the other.

After the Walk was done, a few of us went out to eat and picked the local eatery with Karaoke.  Another great time, and the music styles and abilities were all over the map.  The audience was kind and loving of all.  It made me smile.

Today I witnessed a recital with, again, a wide range of talent and musical styles.  From very young to not so much all very good, and they were so much fun to see.  It seemed all were having a great time just sharing their voices and love of music.  This ranged for Broadway show tunes to Italian art songs, and some Christmas Carols.

So you may ask what the point is here?

I think it was captured so well by one of the selections.  "Make your own kind of Music" was sung by Mama Cass back in the day (1969.)  Just the chorus packs a wallop.  Sing your own special song. Even if nobody sings along.  That's what music does.  It inspires. It consoles.  It can lift your spirits.  It can let you lament.  There is a style to suit every taste and every mood.  Music is a microcosm of life, of the world.  This weekend from just a few physical locations, I was jetted away to Italy, Germany.  I went back in time and entered a fantasy kingdom.  The music brought friends closer together as they shared their tunes with a bar.  The music brought strangers together in way other events fail to do.

It was a beautiful and busy weekend.  I hope yours was filled with song and friends too.  I wouldn't trade it for the world. And if you want to be inspired a bit listen to Make Your Own Kind of Music.

Nine Years

The year was two thousand and five.  A few days after Thanksgiving, the 27^th, was the day of THE call.  Unlike the previous calls, this one led to the beginning of the end.  The end of waiting.  This was the day, the call, that led to a liver transplant.

The years have flown by, and the initial anxiety of being afraid of everyone with a little cough has subsided.  I have caught colds and recovered from them.  There have been consequences of the medications, including diabetes, which angered me to no end when I was diagnosed back in 2009.  I'm over that now though.   There are other ills in this body, but 2014 has been a good year by and large.

Nine years.

It feels like so much has happened since then, yet not so much at the same time. 

I’d like to be able to say that I’ve had some great impact on the world, giving meaning to the extended years so graciously given to me.  I wish I could say that every day has been treated as the gift that it truly is.  I’d like to say that I’m a better person for knowing how fragile life can be.  Sadly, I don’t think I can make any of those claims.

In a strange way, the ability to take life for granted from time to time is an amazing blessing.  I don’t have to fight every single day to be well.  I’m not “ill” in the full meaning every day.  I live a pretty darn good life.  I have more medical appointments that most, but it’s not so terrible.  I do have a bunch of health issues that need to be monitored, but I’m doing well.  I’m doing well enough, that the doctors’ appointments are bothersome and get in the way of doing things I’d rather be doing – even if that may just be ‘work’ on some days.

So, I pause today, and think over the past year, as I’ve always done as this blessed anniversary comes around.  I pause and think of the wonderful family that suffers in their remembrances during this time of year.  I do not forget them.  I do not forget Jack.  Jack’s part of me and our liver is our link to one another, and to his remarkable family.

I pause and think of what’s to come, and do sometimes wonder when my luck will run out, and what will be my legacy.  It’s a weighty question, but no longer scares me.  I am what I am, and in the long run I expect that there will be little lasting impact.  That’s just being honest.  In a world of billions of people, what has my life produced in the grand scheme of things?

I ponder that last sentence, it’s been sitting there in the recesses of my hard drive waiting to be recalled and edited.   It stares at me seeking to be answered.  It waits for a more honest pause.

The synapses flash, and fill my mind with differing thoughts.  I think of the miracle stories in the Bible, and  it occurs to me that the miracles of new health, of the blind being able to see and the deaf being able to hear, have no further story of how those cured lived the rest of their lives.  Did they just go about the ordinary day to day existence or was theirs a fate to be lived in the scrutiny of their own expectations.  Were they rescued with a purpose to perform some great feat, or simply to live out their days as good citizens? Was their purpose to be a symbol of God’s greatness, that even in their ordinary existence that God came down to heal them simply because he could, and that was his desire?  So you might argue that in the scheme of things what they helped to produce was faith.  Faith, as meaning  that some other person may come to believe that they too could be healed.  I’m not sure there’s a better gift to leave to this world. Faith.  From Faith, comes hope, and with hope the ability to love, and with love anything is possible.

So, maybe I can try to answer that grand question of what has my life produced in the grand scheme of things.  Yet maybe not, maybe it’s not for me to know.

The Butterfly Effect. The premise is that even a ridiculously small change to a system can yield remarkably different outcomes in the distant future.  The story is that a butterfly flapping its wings can cause a hurricane weeks later on distant shores.  Maybe that’s how our lives work.  Maybe a word of encouragement will lead a young person to stick with studying science and they become the next great surgeon, and they in turn operate on the President of the US.  Maybe it’s even simpler and that when we show love to someone it leads them to be more loving.  Maybe our little act of generosity leads to more generosity.

Maybe my life is simply about living life to the best of my ability.  That’s a wide open statement of course too, but maybe the video by One Republic, “I lived” will tell the story.  It shows how one young man with Cystic Fibrosis lives each day fully, while recognizing the hardships and his short life expectancy.  I think this is really about courage, courage to face our adversities in spite of the fears.

Maybe my life is most productive when I simply share a story and some photos of what I see in the world.  Recognizing the beauty and sharing it with others, maybe this is enough.

Nine years.

Nine years of faith, hope, beauty, and small gestures of generosity, a bit of courage and love, as imperfect as they may have been, maybe that’s enough. 

 I hope so, for that’s all I have.

How about you? How have you last nine years been?

Blessings,

Brian

The Hunter

Sometimes a little peace an quiet can be exactly what the doctor ordered.  You may only realize it after sitting still somewhere, watching and listening.



The hunter stood motionless.  He waited patiently, staring ahead looking at the water. Nothing.  Then he saw them, shimmering and breaking the surface, a school.  Ever so carefully and slowly he took one step toward them.  A minute later another step.  Still too far away to strike.  The school moved off, leaving him out of range.

The hunter took a few more tentative moves, and again stood perfectly still.  Waiting and watching.  Again the school moved closer, unaware of the danger this time.  He coiled up and leaned a little. Then in the blink of an eye.. boom!  The water exploded, and his spear struck home.  The fish was his.

The Heron, with the Manhaden in his mouth rested a minute, then maneuvered his prey for the final act.. and gulp - the fish was gone.

I watched him catch two fish in this manner.  It was really fascinating.  I hope to get a little closer next time, though I'm not sure I'll be able to.

GULP!

I also got a glimpse of a Belted Kingfisher, but the picture is a little rough.  Again, I wish you could hear this guy.  Here's a link to a page with his sound.  Check it out if you have a minute.

In all, I hung out about 40 minutes watching all of this unfold.  There have been several times when a Bald Eagle has been soaring overhead as well.  This is right at the foot of the West Basin on NAS Pax.  Jets flying a half a mile away, and these beautiful flyers so close by.  Just awesome.

Surprise

I went to a friend's pier today to take some photos of a few boats.  It was overcast and I had not been there before, so I wasn't sure what I might find.  It's a little cove off the Patuxent with quiet waters, and the hum of traffic from the nearby bridge.  It's really peaceful.

The boats I expected were there as well as some others.  I wanted to get the Oyster boat with it's mast, yard arm and tackle.











There was more to be seen though.  There were several Turkey Vultures roosting, one of which landed atop the mast of the boat.  Not sure that's a good omen.. hmm.











I moved from the pier to the back yard to gain a different perspective, but had left my camera bag behind.  After taking a few pics I walked back to the pier and was startled by some noise at the water's edge.  Then I saw a very water-logged bird trying to flap/walk up on the rock lined shore.


He couldn't walk very well.  After trying to get on top of the next rock and failing, he settled in to preen and attempted to dry out.  I left him there to recuperate.  Hope he makes it..  but as you can see he's looking pretty rough.. poor thing.

There were two guys on the boat on the opposing bank.  One was fishing and the other messing around with a remote controlled gas powered boat.  Every time he started it up his little Schnauzer would go crazy barking.

Last a took a few shots of a more distant boat.

Not as cheerful as I had hoped, but it's still a beautiful little cove.  The sun will soon shine, the vultures will find some other place and maybe the Osprey and song birds will take over.  Right?


Cheers,
Brian

Eagle

I love the Bald Eagle.  I find them majestic and beautiful.  I know that they can be, and often are, scavengers.  That fact does not diminish their stature in my eyes.

As fall approaches we often start seeing a few Bald Eagles in our area.  I saw one yesterday but didn't have the camera out in time.  Today as I was driving around  NAS Pax River I saw one perched quite close to the road on a wooden sign.  I went up the road a short distance, pulled over and got my camera and 200mm zoom lens out.  I drove slowly back toward the eagle and amazingly he didn't fly off immediately.  I took a number of rapid shots.

He did jump to a take-off and then slid below horizon of the grass berm that's above the river. 

  I took a similar drive on the way home.  I spotted some of the geese in a small pond, and then a Turkey Vulture.

 






To the right:  There's always one guy .....
 

 The Vulture isn't the prettiest beast, but he has an important job... janitor.

I spotted the eagle further ahead, not far from where I had seen it in the morning.  I was able to snap a quick few shots and they didn't turn out too bad with a bit of processing and cropping.

 
I mentioned on FaceBook that I was both excited and sad about this post.  That's because you can see in the zoomed-in cropped photos that one of his eyes is clouded over - like a cataract is there.  I hope that's all that is wrong with him (her?)

A town lost in time

Our recent vacation needed a little... tweaking.  It was going real well and we were enjoying our stay in Massanutten Resort in Virginia.  However, a need for a trip to Annapolis and an Eye Doc visit became necessary. After Deb was cleared for take-off, we set off.. with no real plan.

Ultimately, after a bit of a drive west we decided to just "head North."  We took route 83 out of the Baltimore area to find what lay ahead.  It's a nice highway, two lanes each direction and at least at the time we drove, it wasn't too crowded.

As we passed the border with PA we spied a "Rest Area" and pulled in.  The service area had a Visitor's Center and more brochures than you could read in several weeks, they spanned the whole of PA.  Concentrating on the county we were in, we talked with the host and had a couple ideas.

First, we took in a Clock and Watch Museum and then Turkey Hill Farms "Experience."  (I'll blog on them another day.) Then headed into and through Lancaster to a little Village.  The Amish were everywhere and looked to run a good deal of the shops.  It was touristy, but nice.

One of the Brochures listed a Bed & Breakfast and we took a chance on it.  We couldn't have been happier with it.  We had a nice little suite in a building separate from the main house.  The main home was spectacular inside, thought I didn't think to get any good photos.  We walked around a bit and then headed to dinner, but since it was "late" like 7:30 PM most of the local places were nearing closing.  We found a "Steamboat" looking building that said "Live Music, Piano Player" and took another chance.  It turned out fine with an older gent playing and singing - till 8:00 anyway.

Here's a few shots:



I thought these scooters were the coolest things ever.  "Razors" on steroids.  They've apparently been featured in Martha Stewart Living, and Elle.

Of course the more "standard" buggies were around, some were easier to see than others.































One young guy had a sulky.  I don't think I've ever seen a race inspired buggy used by the Amish before.. kind of cool if you're by yourself.  It's the sports car  of the farm.

And by the way, those scooters were everywhere, and used by everyone.. boys, girls, men and women alike.






We drove around and there were plenty of farms.

Our little suite is on the left end, first floor of this building. There is a second unit on the right, and an upper unit in the middle.

Our unit is hidden from view in the second photo of the property, the main house is all the way up front.  Then there's a unit that looks like a Shed - which is what it was called too.  Then a "barn" at the foreground.

There's a nice lawn and gazebo in the back, would be perfect for weddings.





















A few shots from my phone of the interior of the house:

 
 And holding the secret till the end, this little town is called Intercourse Village.  So named at the time, because there was pleasant and engaging conversation to be found in the little town.


Till next time,
Brian