Bear with me while I continue to sift through my photos. I am in a wondrous state of rediscovery.
This one was taken along the Tidal Basin in Washington, D.C. He seemed quite determined, almost as if he were a duck on a mission. I watched him for long time, followed him, harassing him with my camera – but he was steadfast and never altered his path.
My writer’s mind imagined he was a covert agent on the way to a clandestine meeting with a top-level CIA official.
Despite my proclivity for holiday bashing, Santa was good to me this year. He left a shiny new laptop under my tree. In the process of transferring files from the old machine to the new, I stumbled across some older photos. Some are total shit, others aren’t too bad. I like the colors in this one:
So, here we are again. One chapter in the book of life ending, another beginning. I always look forward to a new year. Part of it is the unmitigated relief of having made it through the holidays without committing a felony; but also, there’s an unspoken promise of recommencement. The aura of renewal and the endless possibilities of what may come, beckon me like a moth to a flame.
It’s all illusion, of course. Logic dictates that there is no real difference between the end of one year, and the beginning of the next; no earth shattering kaboom; no sparkling fairy awaiting the stroke of midnight to sprinkle a handful of pixie dust on our heads, magically erasing twelve months of poor choices and lost opportunities. It’s just another day, like any other.
But to hope is to be human. A new year ushers in a sense of liberation and emancipation, and gives us permission to let go of our past and embrace the future. This is a concept I readily espouse. Although, I find that in order to completely move forward, I must first reflect.
It was a productive year, albeit exhausting. What did I do, you ask? Well, I’ll tell you.
This year I:
continued my foray into the mysterious world of geology, tried my hand at a little field work, and discovered I should leave it to the professionals.
participated in April’s Camp NaNoWriMo and won, exceeding my 25K word goal by nearly 5K. Of course, I haven’t let a single word written during that month to see the light of day. I shuddered at the very thought.
embraced a dairy-free diet. My stomach and I get along much better these days.
spent the long Memorial weekend with the BFF and her family, exploring South Padre Island. There’s nothing quite so relaxing as a beautiful beach, good company, and jug of margaritas.
discovered – and conquered – statistics. Did you know that sometimes in statistics, p’s and q’s wear hats? Crazy, yet oddly adorable.
learned that I’m too old to frolic on New Orleans’ Bourbon Street. It’s a task best left to the degenerate youth. I did, however, have a wonderful time celebrating the BFF’s milestone birthday in the city she loves.
took a step toward tackling my fear of being eaten by a bear while camping. No, I didn’t go camping in bear infested woods. That’s just stupid. I did go hiking for the first time, though. And loved it. Maybe next time I will forego the hotel in town and stay in a cabin by the lake. Yeah, right.
While my writing was somewhat sporadic after Camp NaNoWriMo, I did take quite a few photos. In the spirit of the coming year, and in an effort to toast 2013, here are a few.
“Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop away from you like the leaves of Autumn.” – John Muir
A rare thing happened here in my corner of Texas. We were gifted with a mild July. Usually by this point in summer, the dreaded dome of high pressure has firmly planted itself over the region, deftly deflecting any wayward “cold fronts” and pushing the mercury over the century mark. But this year, we have had unseasonably cool temperatures – afternoon highs in the high eighties and low nineties with morning lows in –*gasp*– the sixties.
It was almost like autumn.
So, what do you do when you are treated to fabulous weather in the middle of the summer? Go to the Arboretum and take pictures of bugs, of course.
On a sad note: It seems August will not be unseasonably cool. Today’s high: 103.
“To be or not to be is not a question of compromise. Either you be or you don’t be.”
― Golda Meir
1. I learned it takes three full days to recover from falling off the no-dairy wagon. Per doctor’s orders, I have been dairy-free for seven months. At first it seemed an impossible lifestyle change, but it’s really not so bad. Though, I will admit pizza with cheese is so much better than pizza without. Anyway, it was all going so smoothly. I had adapted well, and for the most part, have had very little in the way of dairy cravings. That is until I stepped foot in an ice cream shop with no non-dairy choices. Then, in the blink of an eye, seven months of dairy sobriety came to a gut wrenching end. In all honesty, I really didn’t think it would make much difference. I mean, how much damage could one scoop of chunky chocolate peanut butter ice cream do?
2. I learned that my morning bagel obsession might be even more hazardous to my health than the dairy. No, not because those chewy rounds of mouth-watering goodness are packed with carbs and calories, but because I’m wholly incapable of handling a serrated knife without jeopardizing a finger or two. Last week I required a trip to my local urgent care clinic after my attempt to slice open a bagel for toasting turned bloody. Let’s just say my thumb didn’t appreciate the near filleting.
A very small part of me wishes I could scuba dive. Of course, the rest of me – the part grounded in reality – knows and understand it will be a cold day in hell before that would ever happen.
4. I learned that I don’t understand people who make a big show of announcing their impending departure from social media then never seem to go anywhere. What’s that about?
5. I learned that – speaking of social media – I really hate memes. And cliché status updates. And grumpy, negative people who complain all the time.
What are you looking at?
6. I learned that I have a sudden itch to write a Snowden-esque character into my WIP. I just can’t help myself. These stories draw me like a moth to a flame.
And on a side note: I learned that people are shocked to find out our government is spying on us.
To this I say: duh.
I’m flabbergasted by such naivety. I’ve been expecting the dudes in black to show up at my door for years to investigate the content of my Google searches.
7. I learned that catching up on the backlog of blog posts in my WordPress reader is exhausting. I love you all. I love reading what you have to say, and viewing your beautiful photographs, but seriously, you people need to let me catch my breath. It’s summer. Take a break. Go to the pool. Drink a fruity drink. Give me a week. One week. Then we can get back to business.
What do you mean it’s not all about me?
8. I learned that Gillian Anderson is starring in a television show for the BBC called The Fall. It might come as a surprise to some, but back in the day I was a huge fan of the X-Files. Anderson’s Scully has always been one of my favorite television characters, second only to Jen Garner’s Sydney Bristow.
I stumbled upon The Fall quite by accident while looking for something else on Netflix. My interest was piqued when I saw Anderson’s name listed in the cast, and I couldn’t help but add it to my queue. I spent Saturday night glued to the scant 5 episodes in the series. The Fall is about a female cop brought in to hunt down a serial killer. Sounds mundane and ordinary, doesn’t it? It’s anything but. It is dark and brutal and raw. The acting is fabulous, the writing superb, and the pacing will leave you tingling with anticipation. I loved every minute of it.
9. I learned that a man in Brazil was killed when a cow fell through the roof of his house. I’m perplexed by the logistics of such a thing. Is it me or does this stink of a conspiracy involving the Chick-fil-a cow?
10. I learned that the Twinkie is back. I never understood the American fascination with this particular snack. The yellow cake tastes like cardboard, the filling leaves an oily aftertaste, and the ingredient list requires a chemistry degree to understand. I could go into a rant about the state of obesity in our country and the role processed junk food plays, but somehow I don’t think anyone is listening.
11. This week’s awww moment is brought to you by a little garden spider who took up residence on my patio for a day or a two.
I needed a little alone time today, so I loaded up my camera gear, grabbed a notebook and schlepped into the city. My destination? The Dallas Arboretum and Botanical Gardens, of course. I spent this beautiful spring Sunday meandering through my favorite parts of the garden, dodging screaming toddlers and teenage girls in candy colored quinceanara dresses, jotting down an idea here – a splash of dialogue there, and taking way too many pictures – again.
Sadly, the tulips that were so breathtaking just two weeks ago have passed their prime. Here is one of the last of the season.