Time, Legacy

Christmas day has come and gone, the season yet to be over.  A variety of thoughts and feelings have  been plaguing me.  The various Christmas movies watched get me to thinking about friends and family. The stories cause me to pause, and ponder life, abundant blessings, and choices.

With all that said, words managed to flow into the menagerie below..   left raw and unedited.

The day has come and gone, the feeling fleeting

Lost opportunity, lost chances for meaning and value

Close but lost, the bells of failure peel their pall

Desires of her heart unfulfilled, broken pieces

Unidirectional, time plods ever onward, ever forward

Looking rearward can change nothing behind the present day

Save the choices of the morrow yet becoming

The precious seconds tick away, with no mind for their use

Actions and consequence interlocked with time and choice

Neither to be undone, only applauded or forgiven,

Be the good or not, actions falling the mind, master or slave

Legacy anxiously awaiting the revelation brought with history

The diminishing peel of the bells echo ever more softly,

The present imperceptibly washes away to time long ago

Yet memories keep it alive for better and worse

Learning from failure may not be failure at all

New chances for redemption come with the next tick

Courageous decisions bid against cowardice, change is difficult

The constellations, the north star, learning provide the atlas

Navigation, course correction ever present ever available

Small course corrections, made by the smallest rudder

Vast, unfathomable changes in destinations, whether intended or not

Vigilance, awareness, the map, and small corrections

Arrival to new shores, or the best of the known returned

Successful passage, or shipwreck the captain alone chooses

The ship of action, time, opportunity

The map of grace, forgiveness, compassion

The navigation the Captain selects

Choose wisely my Captain,

See the truth, be the good

Seek justice, mete mercy

In all things look for love

Time moves on

Formulaic

It’s the season for sappy Christmas movies, and we’ve been watching quite a few on Netflix and Hulu. The pattern is predictable, most often there’s a formula of heart ache and new love and in the end true love and a sense of justice prevail. The movies portray Christmas as the magical time when anything is possible, in that the goodness in people will triumph despite all odds. Here’s the thing; though I know the perfect happy ending is coming I’m still sucked into the story. The scripts are almost always a bit over the top, a little silly and contrived.  The unrecognized artist or musician get their break or reinvigorate a lost passion. The workaholic slows the pace of life down. The estranged father shows up just in time to celebrate his daughter’s new designs. It’s magical, and I love it. I think deep down we all do.

Go back to the classic Christmas movies of a Miracle on 34^th Street, or Holiday Inn and you find the same sappy formula. The very slim odds of success are beaten, and love blossoms along the way. Time hasn’t changed what society holds most dear – family, friends and love. The formula appears to be fairly easy in film. Sure there are the plot foils to keep the interest, but we all know the happy ending awaits us.

Real life is more challenging. Sure the goals are the same – to have friends, family and love abound. The success in business and life are still the desires of our hearts. Living off set with no script to follow is far more difficult. Can you say plot twist? Life has a way of throwing us off course in both little and huge ways. Jobs and careers are not always full in our control. Health can be fleeting. Relationships can fail in so many ways. That’s why these formulaic Christmas movies draw us in, we still hope and dream of the Christmas miracle. The other aspect of these formulaic scripts is there is always a point where a risk has to be taken. Risk in real life can be pretty daunting, because unlike the movie, there is a chance of failure. That’s just how it is.

I wonder though, if we all took a chance at living a gracious and generous life what the world might look like. What would it look like if we all slowed down, put the cell phones away and talked with each other? What kind of community would we have if we gave each other the benefit of the doubt? What might it be like if we all learned how to apologize? What results could we have in our families if we could truly forgive and move forward together? You can easily tell me I’m a dreamer, and I will not argue. Just tell me though, what would it be like, and why can’t we all take a step in that direction?

For me, I want to be a part of that formulaic script. I want the friends and families that bring love to the equation. I want to share generously, and love dangerously. I dare say we all do. For us Christians, as imperfect and hypocritical as we are (we’re human after all), this time of year brings focus on the grace of God through the birth of Christ. It’s the foundation of Christmas- The Christmas Miracle. The Peanuts Christmas Story tells and shows it in a wonderful way. That’s the spirit I think we all want to capture, and in some ways that’s what all these movies are after. As I said, I want to be part of that script.

Merry Christmas all,

And with that,

Good night.

Heavy-hearted

The ugliness of the world continually reveals itself. The headlines of the hour, the day, the minute intrude into our lives on a routine and regular basis. The headlines thrive on the depravity of the world, in a seemingly endless supply of try to top this level of horror.

Humans are capable of the most egregious of actions. All of us cross lines of decency to various degrees. There are none among us that are without fault. We all have our flaws, and our failure whether we admit to them or not.

My heart aches tonight. There are many reasons ranging from world wide terrorism, to dysfunctional families. I cannot throne stones from this glass house of mine without indicting myself - trust me I'm no saint. There's a part of me that say's "we're only human" in the sense of foreboding and fear. Yet in the next I say "we ARE human" and have incredibly capacity to overcome.

I took just a few minutes to jot down the following. I had one song on my mind while thinking about this, and as often happens, one thing (song) leads to another. So here are the flow of words that came to me:

We’re only human,

Sadly so many times,

Brokenness begets brokenness

Families torn

Friends worn

Yet there is strength,

Ashen remains,

The Phoenix arises

Human capacity,

Unbounded

Mountain tops

Valley

Desert

Oasis

We trod them all

Ups and downs

We’re only human

Happily so many times,

Love begets love

Families shorn

Friends steadfast

(I hope you'll take the time to play the song - click on the titles)

You may have guessed that Christina Perri's "Human" was playing. To me it speaks of strength despite extraordinary burdens.  Her song "Distance" talks to the fear of revealing herself to another - wanting to pretend there isn't love, to hide and keep a distance. Finally her song "Arms" came up,  doubts are overcome with the strongest power there is - Love.  

While heavy-hearted, I have an optimistic view. The crap of the world and the strife we cause each other and/or ourselves will not conquer us. We will grieve the unbearable burdens of this life. We will be challenge till we fall. Yet we can lift each other up. We can support each other. We can cry with each other and celebrate with each other. Love will prevail.

Blessings,

Brian

Flags, Blood, Humanity

I've had mixed emotions regarding the Syrian Refugee crisis. Fear of extremist surfaced while seeing the horrific news of the Paris attacks. 9/11 was not that long ago, and I can remember being in a hospital recovering from emergency surgery in Georgetown on that day. Smoke from Pentagon could be seen from the roof of my hospital. It's clear a relatively small number of extremists can cause great destruction. The refugees though, not so much, unless you believe the extremist to be among them, and further that the officials regulating who comes into our country will not find them out.

Since reading more about the process by which refugees arrive in the US I've grown less concerned. The process is arduous and random. Refugees do not pick their destinations, which alone would make it a poor choice for someone intending to get here.

I've been thinking of the history of my family. My heritage leads back to Europe; I'm a mutt made up of English, Welsh, German and Dutch lineages as best I can tell. While not knowing the specific stories of why they immigrated here, it would seem reasonable to believe that in some way they had hoped for a better life for themselves and their families. Unless you are a few percent of our population that can claim Native American Indian heritage you too are the offspring of immigrants. My ancestors and likely yours as well joined in the adventure we now call (used to call?) the American Dream. The Dream was rather simple really. It was to seek a better life, where prosperity while not at all guaranteed was within the realm of the possible. The new America was seen as a place where hard work and diligence would be rewarded with a solid roof over your head and food on your plate.

This Dream remained, and I would say still remains for a great many today. Many immigrants from Europe arrived to Ellis Island in the New York Bay. The Statue of Liberty, a gift from France, welcomed  many a stranger to our shores. While Ellis Island is now defunct, the Statue still bears her flame beckoning those that need a home, or dare I say.. a refuge.

The world has become a smaller place now though, and the realities of acts of terror reach into our homes nearly instantly as cameras broadcast at near the speed of light. We are all too aware of the danger lurking in this dark world. It's natural to be cautious of those we don't know and don't understand - those different from ourselves. This has been the human condition for as long as man has compared himself to another. We separate ourselves into groups that are most like ourselves. It's a comfortable collective that way. In our own gangs our ideas are generally the same and accepted, we are accepted and we don't have to defend what we believe to each other. The world outside our insulated cohorts is contrasted strongly with different looks, ideas and beliefs. We venture out only to have to defend concepts and understandings. We find we all don't agree with each other.

Further, we have self-created boundaries and at some point a leader places a flag over the territory. The island then governs itself as deemed fit. The adjoining islands of nation states do likewise. That is until resources and greed intermingle. Throw in differing ideals and conflicts arise to become wars, holy and otherwise. Civilians are caught in this struggle. It's my belief that most people are victims in these conflicts. Most people I know simply want to live peacefully, raise families and enjoy their friends. Refugees fleeing desolate battlefields and roaming extremists .. which is any armed force with which you disagree simply want food and shelter, and medical care. They want peace, just like us.

Tonight I sat down to paint. The chaos of my life recently left me not wanting to paint. So tonight was to be a warm up of sorts. I didn't have much on my mind, but the thoughts above came out.
A quick sketch and sloppy, loose painting created this image. You may not recognize Ellis Island, and the Eiffel isn't particularly very good, but I like it. The USA is supposed to be the bright light, the North Star if you will. It seems the latest events have brought Syria, the US and France together in some twist of fate. The Syrian flags have green, black and white with stars in either green or red depending which side the proverbial political isle you belong. France, like the US flies red, white and blue.  I haven't gotten in the habit of titling my works, but here's a first.  I'm calling this "Flags, Blood and Humanity"

My prayer tonight is for peace and love. Guess I should be in a beauty pageant. (Hope you get the reference.)

Blessings,
Brian

New battle lines

I sit here in my comfortable home watching as the latest war, one of passionate rhetoric and opining unfolds. The battle field of public opinion wages on in all the media, and perhaps most hotly on FaceBook. This week’s battles are concentrated on the Syrian Refugee Crisis with the cast of politicians taking the brunt of this war of written words, cartoons and images. Sadly though, we the population follow in the politicians' footsteps with our callous disregard for upholding the dignity of each other.

The opinions seem generally equally divided and equally spiteful between those for bringing refugees to the US and those against it. It’s not the differences that bother me and it’s not the passionate pleas to be heard in the sea of sarcasm. It’s the sarcasm, the belittling, the smugness and self-righteousness that bothers me.

There doesn’t seem to be an area of middle ground for true discourse and evaluation. Those against the relocation are anti-Christian, fear mongers. Those for the relocation are naive socialists that think funding grows on trees. We quote the Bible and financial statistics. We make analogies which point to one side or another. We pick our ‘source’ of information and believe no other source is reliable. You are likely to be considered either heartless or a willing accomplice to the guaranteed destruction of this country.

For my part, I’ve been firmly on the fence. The war is tiring, and a respite from FB may be needed for my own sanity. It doesn’t mean I’m putting my head in the sand and ignoring the issues. Largely though, I feel this war is already been lost. We are ALL losing. We’re losing our respect for each other, and that lack of respect is dividing the nation. Somewhere along the way society has decided that if you disagree with an approach to a difficult issue then you’re either stupid or intentionally bent on a malicious end.  Is that really the case? NO. I contend that the USA is still a pretty great country. I also believe most of our populous agrees with that statement. Further, and I know not all will agree with this, I believe most of the population sincerely want this nation to continue to be a shining light in the world. Despite my beliefs, it’s clear that vast numbers of folks believe “democrats” to be the ill of our Republic, and equally vast numbers view “republicans” in the same lens. Then you can add in the assessments of any particular discriminator for more divisiveness.  For example, what’s your view on Muslims in a general sense? What’s your take on military intervention, and which sides (yes plural) do you support? Racism, sexism.. all further divide us. The list goes on and on.

There are valid concerns to be addressed in this Syrian Refugee crisis. How does the world respond to those caught in the crossfire? How does a large number of refugees get assimilated into our nation? What are the financial costs? How does this crisis compare and contrast to other problems within our borders… veterans conditions, homeless, uninsured, underinsured, unemployment, etc, etc? How is security considered? 

All of these concerns are valid and necessary topics of discussion, debate and resolution. I’m not sure that everyone’s concerns will be addressed to everyone’s satisfaction. Many want a completely safe society. Many want to bring all to our shores because it’s the humanitarian thing to do.

There is risk, cost and compassion battling at my soul to find some happy answer, yet that answer eludes me. That answer eludes the world.  It would be hard to show compassion if there are no resources to provide. It would be inhumane to ignore the pleading of a multitude of desperate people. It would be naïve to believe there is no risk in future terror attacks.

My prayer is that there be some middle ground SOUGHT by all, in a respectful dialogue.  I believe it possible to find that ground. A ground that is supportable and compassionate with a minimum of increased risk to our health and safety. If we worked as hard to find that ground as we do to belittle ‘the other side’ we’d be done in a heartbeat.

I hope you might join me in seeking this middle ground...  Please.. for our sake as well as that of the world.

Time after time

The day after this Thanksgiving marks a milestone. It will be the 10 year anniversary of my liver transplant. Made-made milestones are funny things. There is nothing inherently special about a particular day, save that we intentionally give it some undeserved significance. So it is with a decade of transplant living.

I’ve tried over the last month to write something meaningful, and I failed each and every time to capture the essence of these past 10 years.  My intent was to reflect on life in my post-transplant world - hoping to understand, in retrospect, a decade of a ‘new normal.’ It seems too, that the harder I work at understanding, the further I am from the goal, but here I am having another go.

My first attempt failed by providing too much of the ‘back story.’ I thought that you may need to know the medical history leading up to the transplant. The back story was starting to turn into a novel, and it wasn’t a fun read. My other few attempts ended in lost and meandering thoughts, and I fear this will be the outcome of this attempt as well.

In trying to distill down the lessons learned, I think for me it comes down to this: Life is unpredictable, so make the best of what you have. 

Time brings change, for better and worse. I know that the good times need to be shared and celebrated. I know the bad times are more bearable with good shoulder to cry on. My attitude towards my plight and struggles fluctuates, and while I know that having a good attitude is helpful I don’t always manage that. I believe there is something to be thankful for in nearly every occasion – if you look deep and hard enough. I believe there is beauty in the world that we easily overlook.  Being kind and generous is vital, challenging, and often brings some sacrifice.   I believe love is something that you do as much or more than something you feel, and we’re nothing without it.

With those thoughts in mind, I think of the many different people that have been such a blessing at different times over these past 10 years. People are the center of those thoughts actually. There are too many names and faces running through my brain to mention them all right here, but they range from Deb and family to close friends, past and present, acquaintances and all the medical professionals that have provided care and counsel. Life wouldn’t have much meaning without relationships and I’m grateful for the many that have been a part of my life. This includes the inseparable bond that I will always have with the donor and his family. I pray they take solace in the immeasurable gift they have given to many while they continue to grieve.

I sometimes, not often, wonder just how long this body of mine will hold out. So as I look ahead to the next decade I hope I remember to live out this life with grace, kindness and love. I pray that the struggles will be few, and that friends will be abundant and steadfast. I long to see and reveal the beauty of this world through photography and art, and the occasional blog/essay.

The song “Time After Time” was playing in the background as I first jotted this note. The TV series “Defiance” has a great cover of the song done by Raya Scarborough, and I had downloaded it. In the episode it plays as one of the main characters is wounded and lost in the woods. You see her adopted father searching for her… “If you fall I will catch you, I’ll be waiting.  Time after time.” I hope we all have that special someone that will always be there. I know I do in my gorgeous wife. Too, many of you have filled that role of catching me, and I hope I may likewise in return be there for you, and especially for Deb.

If I can find the diligence, compassion and strength to act out those previous two paragraphs, it’ll be another great 10 years.

My self-created milestone is truthfully just another day as I pointed out in the outset. There's nothing that prevents any of us from declaring a particular day something special. In fact, every day ought to be special, for our participation in it is never guaranteed. That thought was made, yet again, clear to me today, as I participated in a Celebration of Life Service at our church. That is largely what I chose to post this today, vice waiting till the 27th. So, my question for all of you; how has you past decade been, what will you be looking for and acting on in your next one?

Love you all,

Brian

Reflection

Sitting here and looking at a Mick McAndrews original piece that has yet to find a permanent spot on the wall, I'm drawn back to last week's Plein Air Festival on Solomons Island. Artists have the ability to portray the world in ways that make us reflect on how we see the world. They have this amazing ability to bring attention to aspects of our world that we overlook. A scene might be simplified a little, drawing us to see the features we so readily overlook. The watercolor with pen & ink can lighten the mood of a building allowing us to view it in a new perspective.  An oil painting using darker colors with flecks of bright contrasts causes us to look again at the sunset or the bridge in a fresh way. The artist gives us cause to ponder how each of us views the world around us.

The artist helps us, if we're willing to slow down just a little, to reflect on not only what we see and how we "see" it, but also on how we feel about it. Art, whether it be painting, pastels, pen & ink, or watercolor, all bring a sense of mood. The mood is of both the scene as it existed at a point in time, and also of the creator of that piece and how he or she felt while looking at it. That's a rather remarkable accomplishment when you stop to think about it.  As an example, there were several artists that took aim at our iconic Thomas Johnson (Solomons) Bridge, and each had a particular sense about it depending on style and color choices. It really was quite fascinating to watch the variety of impressions unfold. Some were playful, some intriguing but all told a story through the lens of the artist and set a very different mood.

As a photographer, I found the whole experience very educational and rewarding. I really enjoyed seeing how the diverse group composed their works. The choice of view point, as in where to stand to view the subject, applies directly to photography. So too, does how the work is framed. In other words what else was in the 'picture' to provide context without detracting from the main subject, and how much was in the foreground or background. Again, this is all applicable to my photography. If I gain just a fraction of the insights in this stellar group of creatives, my photography will definitely be improved.

I also got a small taste of the scrutiny they face, and the courage they have to put their work out in the public eye. I was looking at a completed piece that was alongside some others when I could not help to hear a conversation about the work nearby. The 'critic' was commenting how a portion of the piece "had no relevance" to the rest of the effort and he was very dismissive of it. I have no formal schooling or training in art - or photography for that matter, so maybe he's speaking with a 'trained' eye. I like some art more than others, some I am willing to purchase, others I can't afford, and still others just don't move me very much. Still, I think it wiser to simply acknowledge that a piece isn't your thing, without a strong need to 'prove' your opinion based on some observation. There are far more pressing issues to have strong opinions on and debate them with 'facts.'  

The Festival is now over, and I'm left wanting for more. There is a certain sense of let down now, a sense of needing to remind myself that it's easy to let the challenges of life blind us from the beauty around us. Yesterday was such a day for me. Today was a new day and a good one. On our drive along 301 on the eastern shore of Maryland and Delaware the views of large farms, barns and harvesting equipment rolled on with the miles. It was picturesque. It was serene, and I was reminded of the Plein Air Festival. I wondered how the artists might capture the straw bales, the corn and the muted colors of the view under the cloudy skies. How would it look in watercolor? What slant and color would a pastel artist use? What were the features that made this view so engaging? How would I frame it if I stopped for a photo? How much detail would there be in an acrylic; how much left for imagination? What mood would be captured in an oil painting?

In the end, I won't know how others might capture it. I know it was beautiful and for a short time the world was a better place for how the Plein Air artists have challenged me to look at the world.

I'm grateful.

Till next time,

Blessings,

Brian

Eff Five

The clocks seem to have stood still, yet the emails pile up unread.  My mind is locked away in a fog bank.  The desk lost behind the low lying clouds and the mist hides the work to be done. Thoughts bounce around and around, not making progress just reliving the words heard, the facts to be faced and the limitations to be confronted.

“A man needs to know his limitations” are words that gnaw at me.  The line is from a Dirty Harry clip, and the context is wrong for my application.  I don’t know, maybe in a way I did just sit down in the car with the bomb about to explode.  It was Detective Callahan that triggered the timed detonator on the bomb. It was in the car that drove away as he uttered that line – and then the car explodes – bad guy gone. My dilemma is not so dramatic really, and likely to be temporary, but it feels like a big deal.  

Blood counts, red blood cells in particular are a measure that all anemic patients know and live by. Lately those numbers have not been so very good.  They’ve been a bit pathetic; they’ve been anemic.  Not so low as to render me bedridden, nor in need of a transfusion, just enough to make people worry about me, and enough to limit activity.  In other words, the best advice for these times in an anemic life is to ‘take it easy.’ In the scheme of things it’s not so bad, however….

However, when you see your wife cutting the lawn because you need to get your rest, you’re not feeling very useful.  You need to know your limitations, but how do you know them until you’ve pushed on your limits?  And perhaps there’s a way to minimize the impacts.  To steal another Clint line.. maybe there’s a way to “adapt and overcome” as so aptly stated by Gunny Highway.  So, if you don’t have to push a lawn mower, but just walk behind it.. that would be good.  It was a good idea, and expensive acquisition.  The mower is a top-rated mulcher with single pull start, 4 cycle motor and adjustable speed control.  It’s an awesome machine, red and black, with a glossy gray life-time warranted mower deck.  It’s good. Adapt and overcome.

It’s not good enough.  This soldier was overruled on the idea that it would be a walk in the park; sidelined based on a F1 discharge – unfit medically for duty, my tour is delayed.  The gorgeous machine does take some getting used to.  I did take a couple passes of the yard to see how it performed, and I can say that the speed is plenty fast, and the start is pretty abrupt.  It’s going to be a learning process to get the full swing of it, but I digress.  Let’s just summarize as this..  Failure.

Even pulling weeds was on the list of ‘hazardous duty’ for someone with immunosuppression issues – F1.. maybe we can change that to F2 as in failure 2.  To be fair though, I think this could be overcome with the proper hazmat clothing of masks and gloves – it would just be more uncomfortable than without. It's not yet clear if that will clear Headquarters and medical council.  

F3 occurred somewhere on the battlefield called the lawn.  The ring, one of three I have, was placed in the pants pocket for safe keeping.  The side pockets, though, have more of a vertical line entrance, and when bending down to pick weeds, they can open and allow items to slide out – items like a ring.

So I guess, this squad member is feeling on the ropes.  It’s not a good feeling to be unfit for field duty. Moved to light duty indoors, the results were no better. 

There were no superior officers indoors, so there were no orders to follow.  A missed opportunity to show initiative resulted in reprimand later on.  Laundry freshly dried was available and overlooked, but noting that it was now scattered across the floor where it would not be missed, my mission was clearly laid out before me.  It was completed with aplomb. You never saw folds so neat, and the laundry basket was stacked with the utmost precision.  I’ll call this a mixed bag, F4 for failure to recognize a mission need, but P1 (pass) for accomplishment.

A review of other items revealed a lack of consistency in writing and communications proficiency. That one hurt. F5.   Eff Five.  That sounds familiar…  TORNADO…  Yes, that’s how this soldier feels.  An Eff Five tornado just ran this private over.  Well that’s how this soldier felt yesterday anyway.

I’ve heard that failure is nearly always a step in the path to success. My hope is that blood counts recover and that field duty will resume.  I know that’s not guaranteed and as this body ages, more limitations will be knocking on the door.  Somehow, the capability to push or walk behind a lawn mower shouldn’t be the defining characteristic of how I view myself. Admittedly it’s still a struggle right now.  Resistance to disease will always be a factor in this life, more so for mine than for many others. While it’s a factor to what risks I take, it doesn’t need to be a defining characteristic either.  Anyone can lose a piece of jewelry, and if it happened on any other day, I doubt it would have impacted me quite the same way. Writing, well there’s only one way to get better at that.. research, learn, and try again.  Purchases, even those with the best research behind them, don’t always live up to the high expectations we have.  Adaptation can only go so far, and we all have limitations to face. It’s life.

Pain is uncomfortable.  It is also inevitable. To a large degree it is also controllable.

So, the Eff Five is gone and I’ll dig out of my storm shelter.  I’m taking a breath.  I’m holding (figuratively right now) the hand of my love, and together we’ll plot the course that best fits the changing tides and breeze.  The new course started last night as we saw a beautiful sunset while having an ice cream cone on Solomons Riverwalk.

Life doesn’t look so bad through that lens does it?

Maybe I have started to adapt and overcome, maybe that fog is finally lifting..

Blessings,

Brian

More Friendly People

It was a beautiful day, low to mid 80's and a gentle breeze, and it was a beautiful day for the camera. Many of you know of my affinity for Solomons Island, but I stayed on the St. Mary's County side of the Patuxent today.  A short drive from the office and I found the contrasting colors of sky, clouds and a picnic table interesting.

It got even better though.  First, the truck bogged down in the sandy beach and nearly stuck.  The driver (wonder who that was) realized the error of being in 4x4 LOW, rather than HIGH!!  Problem solved.

The beach is on Goose Creek and where the Tundra Swans are seen in the winter months.  They are long gone, and probably enjoying cool weather in Canada somewhere.  Today there was an Egret though.  I watched for a while and took a number of shots.  I knew s/he grabbed something out of the shallow water, but it wasn't until I cropped the images that I found the prize.  A Blue Crab!!!  Yes, after nearly dropping it, down the hatch went the crab.

Sissy and her dog Zero

The Wharf at Leonardtown was pretty busy in the early evening. A stop there revealed a number of friendly people, some with their dogs some fishing.

Lots of paddlers were out on the water. There were quite a few Stand UP (SUPs) as well as kayaks.  The young guy was very determined, and had the smallest kayak I had ever seen.

 Now you may notice in the background of the photo above a runabout.  If you look closely enough you might also notice someone in the water behind the boat (above the heads of the paddlers in the center.)  This boat was out there a LONG time trying to get the skier ready to go.  I nearly gave up on them.  Then the action started.....

 You can see the lady (I'm guessing "mom") watching on with her arm raised as the wake boarder lifts out of the water!! Way to go!

However it was very short lived....

 I got talking to another bunch of friendly folks as I watched the boaters.  I played Southern Maryland host to a family new to the area and mentioned the sights they might want to take in.. like Solomons Island and the Marine Museum, St. Mary's City and Sotterly.  Ava (sp?) the youngest told me she is a ballerina and demonstrated with a spin.  Too cute.  It turns out that her sister Brooklynn (sp?) is also a dancer - a very dedicated one at that.  I mentioned a Ballet School that was close by, and that they are a rigorous school..  Turns out that they knew all about that already! I snapped the shot below as their Golden Retriever named Jack joined the kids and Laura on the bench - he is part of the family after all!

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I always thought of Solomons Island of having the really friendly folk around Southern Maryland, but I have to say that Leonardtown Wharf is giving some nice competition.  I talked with Sissy about art for a few minutes and about photography with a woman and her partner (think they were married, but I am not sure.) So I wonder tonight, is it the water side atmosphere that brings out the best in people?  Is it the dogs?  I'm not truly sure, and it doesn't much matter.  I simply know it was a really nice day.

Hope you had a great one, and thanks for coming along for the views here with me.  One last parting shot of an Osprey sitting on a nest along the shoreline.

Blessings,
Brian

American

The cowardly attack on innocent church members is on the minds of everyone with a conscious today.  News coverage abounds, the outrage is present, and the abyss as Jon Stewart called the issue of race relations remains deep.  I won’t pretend to have an answer that will magically transform the world, but I would like to explore something at least tangentially related.

There was a time when America (the USA) was seen as a beacon of hope.  America was a land of opportunity. Immigrants from across the globe sought out our shores for a chance to be something.  Correction, immigrants sought to be an American.  That’s what I want to explore; what is an American, and what are the people of America seeking to be today?

Why would I want to explore these questions?  Simple, the answers will provide insight on how we as a nation seek to be united or unique.  I believe we want it both ways, and I wonder how that shapes us.

From a biology standpoint, human beings are complicated social animals.  Collectively, as a species, we have created an amazing world with wonderful technologies.  We don’t talk about ourselves that way though.  We devise ways to distinguish ourselves. We do this in a variety of methods.  We draw geological boundaries and become Asians, Africans, North Americans and so on.  Division continues, and we have countries, states, provinces, cities, towns, villages and hamlets.  Each of these subdivisions has unique perspectives and customs meaningful to those subsets.  I’m a “New Yorker” or I’m from SoCal.

We divide ourselves by ethnicities – skin color really:  Caucasian, African-American, Hispanic Asian – which generically are similar to the geolocations.  Then you can add in ideology – Christian, Muslim, Hindu, agnostic and so on.  Of course there are male and female as well.

If those divisions weren’t enough we can add others.  Wealth, is a little harder, but falls into the types of cars we drive or the size/location of homes.  I might be blue collar, trailer living, Chevy driving American.  You might be a BMW, white collar, Manhattan condo American.  We can add in education too.  Ivy League vs others.  Maybe, Penn State vs. Pittsburg.  I might be a Greek (Fraternity related) or independent. One Frat versus another.  Let’s add sports.  I follow the Redskins, you follow the Cowboys.

Here’s the point.  We divide ourselves readily.  We put ourselves in company that is like us.  This is natural. Note too, that while we put ourselves in categories, we put others into divisions as well. We have differences that make us unique.  These differences can provide a benefit to all. Society needs all kinds of people.  We need artist, doctors, lawyers, and yes even politicians.  Yet,  I can’t have everyone be an engineer and have no construction workers.  If  all we had were engineers we would have a lot of beautiful designs that never got built.  Differences are good, but that’s not the end of the story.

We are far more alike in my opinion than we are different.  I bleed red blood and so does every other human on this planet.  We all want love, adequate food, and a home.  I believe we all want to be valued and valuable.  We want to be respected.

Here’s the rub.  We get so excited in our drive to be unique that we lose sight of our commonality.  Additionally, we become fearful of the other divisions around us because we simply don’t understand them.  Further, random acts of an individual or small group become associated with a larger division.  I was mugged years ago in a city.  Walking late at night through a section of downtown, I was alone and became the target.  Two people jumped me and wanted by cash. I wasn’t hurt badly, and complied.  I could have attributed that incident perpetrated by two young black males as indicative of young black males.  I don’t.  I was accosted by two young thieves that also happened to be black.

My point remains simplistic.  I believe our society needs to be careful in celebrating our divisions. I believe it can (not always) come at the sake of losing our common heritage, our humanity.  I am not suggesting there be a complete loss of our individual heritage, I’m thankful for the range of styles and cultures – especially with food!  I love Asian cuisine, and Italian, English Fish and Chips, and most others as well.  The diversity is glorious, but I would rather celebrate that everyone would respect his fellow American.  I want to be able to celebrate that as an American we want what is best for our fellow American.  My hope is that we can step back and look at each other as a beautiful Human Being.  What would happen if we had a celebration of “American” where all came together with their heritage, yet stood as one America? Could it be a start of uniting us all?

I know everyone wants to stand out, be recognized as unique, but shouldn't we at the same time recognize that above that, we as America wants all Americans to be united?  If I ask who you are, my hope is that one day it will be not just sufficient, but desirable to simply say - "I'm an American, and I'm with you and for you."

Just a thought.

Till next time,

Blessings,

Brian