Hand writing

A friend of mine asked for her friends to write actual letters to her.  Letter writing has a special appeal to her, as well as others.  It is of course, a dying art form though.  This is the snail mail that the younger generations probably just cannot even comprehend.  How many of our high school crowds are writing by hand for any of their English or humanities classes?  NONE.  That wasn't my experience.  If an assignment was given, it was to be neatly written in blue or black ink.

I had an English Teacher, Mr. Bernardo in 9th grade that demanded perfect penmanship with "i" dotted and "t" crossed.  I am not exaggerating.  He took off points if you did not comply to his standard, which again was perfection.  The class gave all the proper responses to this dogma; this is not going to matter 'in the real world'; I can't read my Doctor's writing and "that's just the way I write my signature."

All were quickly dismissed.  You have not earned the right to have a signature.  You can and will comply. Period. Exclamation point!

I was incredulous.  I complained to my parents.  They took the 'wait and see' approach.  So the first paper was due, and submitted.  I had mostly tried, but perhaps not with all my focus and diligence.  It came back with red ink.  Red circles and red underscores of areas that were improper.  T's that had loops, L's that didn't along with the grammar and spelling, indicative of a future engineer.  But come on, penmanship! That's not right!

Mr. Bernardo made a trip to our home to 'visit' with my mom one afternoon.  So, while I practiced my wheelies up and down the street on my bike, he and mom chatted.  I did not get the complete low down on every detail of their conversation, but learned that my teacher thought well of me, that I was a good student and completely capable of getting to the point of having no points taken off for handwriting.  Mom apparently bought it.  Sadness.

If you know my mom,  and have gotten a card in the mail from her, you will know this: She has PERFECT handwriting.  It has a beautiful gracefulness to it, with a left-leaning slant showing the proper form for a left- handed author.  This surely did not help my case.

Here's the thing,  I did not like getting points off.  I did not like it at all.  So, I tried harder.  Do you know what happened?  I slowed down the speed just a little, focused just a little harder and the result was no more points taken off.  Perfect penmanship to match the alphabet posted across the top of the black board.

It's been more years than I care to admit since then.  I also have to admit that my handwriting is obscenely far from perfect.  I think this is due to part lack of care and the need for speed.  I went to my first 'closing' on the purchase of my townhouse and there are a ton of signatures required.  I tried to take my time but everyone at the table was saying, "hurry it up, it doesn't need to be perfect."  

This all came up as a result of the request for a letter.  My writing was nearly embarrassing.  I have taken a little time over the past few weeks to try to brush up on it.  In the process I've noticed some things.

There are numerous ways you can accent the basic form of letters.  This is probably completely obvious to you.  You can tell one person's handwriting from another.  If you look at cards at a store for birthdays, holidays or any special occasion you can see a tremendous sample of different lettering styles.  You might notice "Old English" on a diploma.  Besides the overall style you can see the fineness or boldness of each part of the letter.  When you put all this together there is a feeling that each style brings.  It can feel formal, or comical, whimsical or serious.  Here's my rough take at showing some of these differences:

I have been thinking about all this since the request of a letter.  I think that the written script can show so much more than a quick email.  The words come faster at times as you write something that is moving quickly in your brain, or is more emotional and it shows in your script with letters that may be a little more hastily drawn, or the spacing and size differ ever so slightly- but it's noticeable.  The width of the letters change with the pressure you apply to the page, again with the mood of your pen.  You have the freedom to intentionally change the style for the salutation and closing.  I know you can show some of these things in the typed page or email, but when all is said and done - only you can write as you do.  It feels more personal to put pen to paper.  It shows more of who you are, even when (hopefully) your handwriting improves.

What I saw and learned today

So I finally took the camera out today.  I took a few shots while on the board walk at Solomon's Island.  It was a beautiful day, sun shining, a nice breeze was blowing.  The temperature up near 65F which brought out the variety of clothing: shorts and flip flogs, to fairly heavy jackets.  That's always fun to see - variety.  There were dogs and kids, parents and grandparents, couples and singles all taking in the view and the scenery.

There were a few things that caught my attention today.  The birds as usual of course.  The gulls were gliding along the edge of the boardwalk and quite close.  Then there was a waterbird that grabbed my attention.  I thought at first it may have been a loon.  After zooming in on my photos, I'm still not sure what it is.  I'm hoping my post to FaceBook and request for help identifying it will turn up a positive result.

Ring Billed Gull in flight

Where I parked is at least a couple feet lower than the boardwalk. As I was getting out of the car, I could see the Thomas Johnson bridge  in the distance, but to see it, I had to look past the railings of the guardrail.

It made me think of being in a jail.  That if your perspective is just right, or maybe just wrong, you might think the bridge is out of reach.  I might believe that you can't get there, that's it impossible.  Yet if you step back, and take in the bigger view, you'll find that the bars are as I first described, just railings to prevent you from falling to the rocks below.  You (we) couldn't tell that the barrier was there to protect us until seeing the bigger picture.  The first take is that the world is a little less colorful and the distance (the future) is not quite in focus, only the bars are really in our sight.  The larger scene is more colorful and there's a sense that the next step (near ground) is sharp, the bridge while still a distance off and large and perhaps imposing can in fact be reached.  I needed to learn this today.

I also found the beams of a gazebo to be a nice study of line and color.  As you can see in the second shot, I am not the only person to have been there.  Clearly, Gerry wanted us all to know that he was there too.

And lastly, I wanted to capture a little more of the feeling and promise of spring, especially since the forecast is calling for a bunch of snow tomorrow night!

Have a blessed day,

Peace,
Brian

St. Mary's City

I haven't had the camera out in a while, and haven't just walked about in a while, so today I did something about that.  Before you see the results, I have to say: wow, am I rusty!  That's okay, practice and reading the manual will help settle that.

The other night Deb and I took in the Free concert by pianist Brian Gantz at St. Mary's College of Maryland, which is just a short distance away.  When we were leaving we were greeted by an owl, possibly two owls, while walking to our car.  It was late and dark, and we of course could not see them, only hear the quintessential "whoo, whoo."  Today I went back while still light to see if they could be spotted; not 'spotted owls', but rather could they be seen.

I walked around the Trinity Episcopal Church cemetery which overlooks the St. Mary's river.  While taking a picture of the bark of a tree, the Rector came wandering by.  We had the nicest chat on this cloudy, though unseasonably warm afternoon.  We talked about photography, and nature, and he pointed out a tree that has a small knot hole where a Screech Owl can be seen on occasion.

I didn't spot the owl, but thoroughly enjoyed the couple hours just taking in the scenes and the breeze.

Here are a few of the sights.

Blessings,
Brian

The white mass to the left of the root is spume (sea foam)

Sycamore tree in front of the church

NYC

 Here are a few shots from our recent stay in NYC.

There was a cool Apple Store that had a clear circular elevator surrounded by a clear stair case to enter the store which is below grade level.

OF COURSE we did a little shopping.  You can see Deb browsing on of the Sales racks at Sachs (I think).  I like the texture of the dress above.  I got a gift too, a auto-wind mechanical watch by Swatch.


 Never did figure out a name for the statue to the left.  It was on 5th Ave.

Our hotel:  the Jewel on 51st.  We had a limited view of Rockefeller Center. Radio City was just down the street.  As many might know, it was NFL Draft Week and it was hosted in Radio City.  There must have been five tractor trailer rigs and two generator rigs parked along the street.

Adventure

I, like a lot of people, would love to go on an adventure.  When I think of that idea "adventure" I think of a sweeping story with an epic journey.  It has unlikely heroes, villains that at first come across as friends and a cast of hundreds in an battle of good versus evil.  Perhaps, what I just described is really more of a quest, in keeping with Lord of the Rings.  Maybe a better way to picture the adventure is to set off on a journey that is known in advance to be out of the ordinary.  Its a trip that is expected to bring vistas into view that you have never seen.  It promises places of intrigue, like that corner deli in a far away little town that has the best food you could ever hope to find.  It will place you in the path of strangers in a special moment, or maybe strangers that become friends.  Who doesn't want that kind of adventure?

Here's the problem though.  The big adventure is often out of reach.  I have watched YouTube clips of motorcyclists travails on the trip of a lifetime up to Alaska's Prudhoe Bay.  These videos are amazing.  They often have me sitting on the edge of my chair and thinking: "Wow, I wonder if I could do that?"  You have to realize that this is a trip that spends hundreds of miles on slick dirt roads, far, far, far from any civilization.  Many bring extra fuel tanks strapped to their panniers just so they can make it from one small town to the next.  That's an adventure!  The reality for most of us is that we have neither the time nor resources for such an extended trek.  We don't though have to go without, we might just have to settle for the smaller adventure.

That's what I did today.  I rode my BMW F650CS motorcycle from Lexington Park, MD to Richmond, VA.  Now, a trip of about 113 miles in each direction would hardly classify as an adventure to most people.  I would have to agree as well -  under the typical circumstances.  In other words, I have driven a car much further than that, and a drive in our Civic to Richmond is rather routine.  The same roads, the same highways.  You take the quickest route and put the hammer down.  Today was different.  I took some of the same roads and bridge, but avoided most of the highways.  The exceptions were two short sections of Rt 295 S on the beltway around Richmond  and Rt 64 W into Richmond.  So, the tree lined byways of Rt 234, 301 and 360 were the routes of choice today.

Now to add to the adventure, besides this being probably the longest ride I've ever taken, it was rather cold.  The 35F temperature this morning was rather uncomfortable.  My body was not too bad as I had three layers including a sweater under my riding jacket, and I had the quilted liner and Gortex liner on my over pants with Lee Wranglers being the base.  My neck was fine wrapped by the tube gaiter that I would wear skiing. The trouble spots were fingers and toes.  I have decent warm gloves, but the fingers just get cold, even with heated grips.  Even with the grips on high, while my palms felt okay, the fingers were pretty cold after an hour.  My toes were giving up at about the same time.  I was incredibly grateful that the EZ Pass I put in my tank bag worked as advertised and I didn't need to stop at the Toll and potentially take off my gloves!

The better part of valor; stopping.  I topped off the gas tank, and warmed up with a hot tea inside the quick market at a Shell station.  The station serves some local truckers with a diesel stop and I was entertained by the conversation around me.  I also had to put the visor back on my helmet as it had unlocked from the left side for some unexplained reason.  The Earl Grey was just the ticket, and after 15 minutes or so it was time to leave and finish the trip south.

Everything was going well, though still cold.  I meandered down 301 without incident, got on Rt. 295 okay and kept up with the 75 MPH traffic.  A short distance and two exits later I hopped off to Rt 360 W.  Again, no problems..until.  As I neared Rt. 64W the traffic was at a near standstill.  I though it was just bad timing of the traffic light, but found that not to be the case as I finnally got on Rt. 64.  I was at last a little warmer, probably due to the fact that the road was more parking lot than expressway.  It was like that for at least a couple miles.  It got better just before hitting the city limits.  The ride in the city was thankfully short as well, without much traffic to contend. I entered the parking lot and found the section for the motorcycles and backed in.  Just as I was dismounting the Parking Attendant said I needed to move as I was in the Valet section.  It appeared to me that there was no more room in the inn.  I asked where he wanted me to park..."right there."  He motioned with his arms to show he wanted me to park parallel to the little island on which the parking gate was stationed.  This is PERPENICULAR to all the other motorcycles and doesn't leave them much room to get out.  I didn't really like the idea, but I complied.  When I came back several hours later, after my appointments, all was well.  There hadn't been any other bikes leaving as best I could tell, and there was a big Gold Wing lined up directly in back of me!

The ride home was better.  It had warmed up into the 40s and I had bought a T Shirt at VCU to add to my layers.  I was quite comfortable with the heaters on.  I made one stop on the way to top off and rest/stretch and then a last run for home.

All of what I have described, was and adventure!  I battled.. the elements and traffic.  I overcame the discomfort and sought the refuge of a hot cup of tea and warm building.  I expanded the distance I have riden in one day.  You could safely say it was new Personal Record for me.  It wasn't an epic saga, though there were some very nice views and scenery.  It would not turn any heads for its duration or inherent trechery, except for my own.  I suggest that you can have you adventure too.

What is it that you can do to extend one of your passions? If you don't have time to hike the whole Appalachian Trail, can you do a section?  Even if it's a day hike.. go for it.  Maybe you can't take off and sail the entire eastern seaboard, but how about just an overnight, or even a day sail?  Maybe that trout stream in Alaska is not in the cards right now, but how about the Gun Powder outside of Baltimore?  Maybe just a few perch from the Potomac could do for now?  Here's my point.  You can have an adventure right near home.  It doesn't have to be epic.  It just needs to be something to expand your horizons.

My prayer for each of us, is that we find our short local adventures and GO FOR IT!

Blessings,
Brian

Words and Time

I believe that words have real power.  I know we were told as kids that "sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me."  It was a lie.  I wonder if it was known to be a lie by well meaning parents even back when I was young.  Words can uplift and encourage us.  They can support a falling spirit. They can make us laugh, perhaps even at ourselves.  They, too, however can pummel us as hard as stones.  They have the force of hurled rocks and the sting of falling hail.

I have seen these things in my life.  I have received words of insult in my childhood.  My jaundiced yellowed eyes caught the attention of the playground and soon I was being called "yellow eyes, yellow eyes, yellow eyes."  It sounds really dumb now, but it was clearly meant as "you're a freak, you're a freak."  My response wasn't any better.  "yeah, it's a disease, and you're gonna catch it!"  Of course that got a nice trip to the Principal's Office for me.  It all worked out eventually.  But it was a hurtful thing.  Words can hurt.  BTW, he couldn't catch what I had, and I knew that.

You see, even as children, we realize that our words can be used as weapons.  We might not know just how deeply that they can cut, but we know it hurts.  We may not realize as well, that the words we speak can be a power for good.  Have you ever heard an encouraging word just when you needed it most?  I hope so.  There's nothing like it.  Maybe it was your boss saying just a simple 'Thanks, I know you've really stepped up lately and I appreciate the hard word you've been doing.'  Maybe, someone came by and told you that they happened to be thinking of you.  It doesn't have to be a big thing to make a big impact.

I had the pleasure of talking to an older widow the other day while at the Transplant Clinic.  She was sitting by herself and we struck up a conversation.  It was towards the end of the day and I could have just left and driven home, as it was a bit of a long drive.  I felt compelled to stay though and listen to her story.  It was a story of love and sadness, of compassion and loyalty.  It had struggle, yet also hope.  I was able to pray for her and her son.  Life doesn't get much better than that; when two strangers can share a moment, listen to each other and support one another with words of encouragement.

I wonder too, what would have happened if I had just left the conversation and driven home.  What would I have missed?  What would Barbara and Mike have missed?  And more, how often do we fail to recognize the opportunity to listen to each other?  How many times have I missed the chance to lend an ear? How many times are we too busy to see what is around us?

Words have power.  We (I) need to crush the stones that are on the end of our tongues before they are thrown with vengeance.  I need to find the time and compassion to share an encouraging word.  If we do these things, I think we'll be blessed to hear the stories of the lives around us.  And if words have power, stories have all the more.  I think everyone has a story worth being told and heard. 

 

My prayer is that we can all slow down, myself included, and share an uplifting word with someone, even a stranger.  I pray we take the time to hear the story of another human on this spinning blue planet.  And I pray we can all tame our tongues and go back to the adage of our mom's that "if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all."

As Pastor K. Moore says;  "May God Bless you all real good."

Peace,

Brian

Cloudy Day's

 I snapped a few photos over this cloudy weekend.  I saw lots of great stuff, though the photos that came out were rather few.  Still lots to learn.
I picked a few.  I went to a marina in Piney Point today and saw a few forelorn boats.  The one above was particularly interesting.  It sure needs a lot of TLC.  I'm not sure what it was designed to do, really interesting shape.

What you didn't see:  An osprey eating a fish in a tree along the roadside.  Black capped chickadee. Cardinals.  Lots of trash on the beach.  Picked up Target bag's worth in a couple minutes. 







The gull looks to be guarding his parking space.







"I said this is RESERVED.. can't you read!"



















  The sign is really poignant given the small community that in which it's posted.  Piney Point, MD







a beached basket ball  followed by....










a beached basket

 Blooms and birds...  it's spring..

A red throated loon ?


So, that's a glimpse of my weekend.