Tag Archives: summer
Paddling the blues away
My family has come out to the lake and gone home again. The house feels empty and I’m feeling a little blue. But this morning the sun rose on another perfect day and there’s nothing to do when you’re feeling blue except take a paddle on a gorgeous lake.
So I set out.
This is what we lake people call ‘water ski water’ because it’s the perfect glassy surface to fly free at the end of a tow line. I’ve had plenty of beautiful skis like that over the years but this morning was designed for more quiet refection.
Going around a bend I lost the perfect water and headed into a bit of a wind. And I realized I had forgot the sunscreen and the water bottle.
So paddling got more difficult physically and mentally. But I wanted to see how far I could go with a bum shoulder. So I’d rest a bit, floating silently, looking at all the lake houses, now empty of their people for another week.
And up at the next point I saw a tree. A tree that made me feel even more blue.
Because surely that was not fall color! Surely that was just caused by the drought. Even though it’s sitting right on the shore with plenty of water. Sure.
I quickly paddled around that point, and the water was smooth again.
I’d have to go way past that island and around that next point to get even close to the mountain where my parents’ ashes were spread. So even though I was curious about whether I could paddle that far I floated a bit and reluctantly turned around for home.
After all the turkey buzzards were circling above, waiting for me. And I wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of dehydrating in the hot Alabama sun.
As with any trip, the paddle home seemed a lot shorter than the going out had been. Partly because that breeze was at my back. Partly because I’d moved into a rhythm, one with the water and the sun and the breeze and the paddle.
Still, home looked pretty good.
Rolling down the river
I arrived in the South on Tuesday afternoon. On Wednesday my brother, sister and I kayaked down the Chattahoochee River for several hours. What a fun trip!
I’ve thought for a long time that I’d like to have a kayak. I’d even toyed with looking for one to buy while I’m down here to store at the house and use during trips to the lake.
My brother has a friend that rents them, so he arranged to pick up three of them just because I was here. We packed some fruit and water in a little cooler and headed out to the river! It was a beautiful day.
We didn’t go a long distance, we took a relaxing float down the river, and only had to maneuver between rocks a few times. It was a good time for me to try different kayaks in an attempt to decide what kind I might want to buy.
I can’t claim to be an expert kayak paddler. We had a few bumps, even in such a wide river. And I ended up with blisters on both hands. But it was so much fun!
And so relaxing! There’s a spot where the river gets narrowed between the rocks and the current is faster. It’s a great spot for a break and a little cooling off float. We floated down and then walked back up the rocks and floated down again.
Could have done that all day!
We saw lots of cool stuff along the way. A great blue heron, several osprey, kingfishers, and lots of other little birds we couldn’t identify. Turtles too, sunning on logs as we went by.
So I’m sending thanks to my brother who arranged for the boats, and to his friend who lent them to us. And to my sister for coming along taking all the pictures of me!
The family weekend continues tomorrow and Sunday. I’m a lucky retiree. Yes I am.
Rain dance
It’s day one at the lake and I’ve been itching to get onto the water but the weather has been fickle. Neighbors tell me that they haven’t had rain in weeks but there was a good chance for it today.
Of course.
All day the wind has been gusty and and blowing away from the house, so I hesitated taking the kayak out, concerned about battling the elements to get back home. Twice I went out to chance it and was turned back by the wind.
By evening things had settled down, the sky was still a pretty blue with puffy white clouds. I decided to take the kayak up the slough toward the cyprus trees.
Just a short jaunt.
It was peaceful up there, water like glass reflecting the pretty trees. But I noticed the clouds overhead were changing.
And I heard a noise coming up the slough behind me. It sounded like a fast boat, which would be unusual, but newcomers to the lake sometimes mistake our little slough with a throughway to bigger water. So I moved over to the side and turned around to watch.
It took me a moment to realize that it wasn’t a boat coming around the curve. It was rain. Really loud hard pounding rain. The kind that will instantly soak you.
Nothing to do but sit there and watch it come. It began to sprinkle a few fat drops on me. I braced myself.
And there it sat, about 10 yards away from me, the water pouring down and the lake rough with wind. I continued to sit in a slight shower, complete with sun above.
Then it moved across the slough, up the hill and disappeared. I shook my head as if to clarify what I had just seen.
And then I paddled peacefully through the sun drenched evening on a little piece of a big lake toward home.
Wordless Wednesday
The people of New York City
I don’t have a perfect representation of the people that inhabit or visit NYC. These are only those the images I felt I could get away with undetected. Except for the girls in Little Italy that posed for me while I was trying to get a street scene. We laughed about it after, how the street was better looking with them in it. Which was true.
NYC is filled with such facinating people. I wish I was braver and could walk up to those interesting faces and ask if I could take their picture. Maybe I’ll grow into that someday.
Each of the images in this slideshow has a story. I could tell you what they were…but it’s probably more fun if you make up some stories on your own.
Entering via Ellis
The best advice I can give you about visiting Ellis Island is to give yourself a lot of time because there’s so much to see. Take it slow and let all that history sink in. And try to take a ranger guided tour. (Check for times at the information center inside the building.)
In a short half hour guided tour you’ll get a great base of knowledge which will help you understand all the rest. Our ranger used the story of a sixteen year old girl’s experience as she traveled across the ocean and through the system at Ellis Island.
At the end he reveled that girl was his grandmother. And that his grandfather came across as a young man not too long after and lived only a few blocks away from his grandmother. And the rest, he says, is his family’s history.
Did you know that only the third class and steerage passengers had to go through Ellis Island? I didn’t either. First and second class passengers got the run of the ship, and were able to begin their new lives here in America as soon as they arrived. Those who only paid about $300 (in current dollars) for their passage were brought to the island to be inspected.
The luggage was left in the luggage room and they were sent upstairs to wait. As they climbed the stairs they were observed. If they appeared sick people at the top of the stairs marked their coats with chalk. Those people were examined more carefully.
The rest waited in benches in a huge and beautiful room.
Perhaps they had never seen such a place before, or if they had, as the ranger said, rooms such as this would have been built in castles, not for people like them.
But this was America, where anything was possible. Note the curved tile ceilings and the mosaic floors.
An immigrant could wait for a few hours, or days for their name to be called, but once it was they moved forward to answer the inspector’s questions. They were the same questions the ship company asked; What is your name, Where are you going? Where will you live? How much money do you have? If you answered correctly and passed the eye exam and a cursory physical you were allowed to leave and begin your new life.
If you did not pass, say you forgot the address of the family member taking you in, you were sent to have a hearing. You could bring in witnesses to collaborate your story. Many immigrants had never seen government treat them so fairly. It was one of their first lessons about freedom in America, and ninety-eight percent of those that arrived were eventually allowed into the country.
Still, it was a terrifying experience, to travel in the belly of a ship, arrive in a strange place, listen to strange languages, be told where to sit, be questioned by uniformed strangers. What hope and strength they must have had to travel toward such an uncertain future.
They told us that forty percent of Americans today can trace a relative through Ellis Island. Forty percent of us owe our lives to someone that took the risk and came to make a better life.
If you’re ever in New York take the time to visit this historic place. Look at the views of Manhattan from the windows of the grand building. Think about what it must have felt like to sit looking across that water at the place you’d dreamed about.
And think about all they had left behind; family they’d never see again, familiar homes and towns. Think about what it must have been like to have only a few possessions, a few dollars, to know only a few people here in the new country.
Then think about how lucky we are to have been born here. Regardless of your political views, regardless of the stress of an election year, regardless of economic times, this is still the greatest country in the world.
We should take time to appreciate that.
Brooklyn!
I’ve seen first hand that more than one tree grows in Brooklyn. We’re here visiting friends and taking in a bit of city life.
During our first day we visited The New York City Transportation Museum here in Brooklyn. It has old buses and subway cars that kids can climb around and sit in.
Oh yea. Adults can too.
We saw subway cars from as far back as 1912…
..up through 1961…
…and today. The today picture I took while riding on the actual subway out to Coney Island and back.
After the museum we went for a walk along pretty tree lined streets, admiring the brownstones.
It’s fun to imagine what it’s like to live in one. But our friend made a good point. She said it was romantic to think about living in a house that old…but if she was going to spend that much money she’d want her new home to be brand new. These houses sell for millions each. Hard to fathom.
Someone suggested we see Coney Island. So that evening we hopped on a subway and went out to explore. Can’t beat a boardwalk along the Atlantic Ocean in July.
And the amusement park had some really cool rides. Oh, you ask…which ones did we ride?
Well..none actually. I’m pretty sure I’m at the age where anything remotely like this is going to make my sick. Well, not entirely sure, but sure enough to not want to risk it.
We walked out on the pier instead, watched people crabbing and fishing. And then we walked along the boardwalk for a long way.
It seemed like a perfect end to a very nice day. But boy did all that walking wear us out! Especially when we had to climb all these stairs at the Barkley Center to exit the subway on our way home!
We were pretty tired. And sore. But will we take it easy tomorrow?
What do you think?
Wordless Wednesday
Monday
Now that I’m retired I’ve noticed that my spirit picks up on Monday mornings. Early morning I settle into my chair to check the news and the weather, to contemplate life or to do nothing at all. Perhaps to fall back asleep. My choice.
The dog asks to go out, and I stand with her in my front yard and listen to the roar of the freeway a mile away. All those people headed back to work. It makes me smile.
I know that sounds smug. Possibly even evil. But with everyone back at work grocery shopping gets easier. Driving into town is less insane. Going to the park is more peaceful.
It seems like the sky is blue just for me. I notice the roses glowing, the birds singing. I have time to watch the light move across my back yard.
Mondays are special because they remind me again, every week, how lucky I am that I’m not jumping in the shower and then into the car, heading back into the fray.
Monday is my favorite day though the rest of the workweek isn’t bad either. And I’ve learned to tolerate all of you crowding up my weekend. I’ve learned to just hang on because Monday will roll around again soon.
Monday. It’s my favorite day.
What’s yours?




















































