It was a beautiful afternoon and evening on the water... and a long enough kayaking trip that I have been sound asleep with my head on my writing table for a couple of hours. Going to take that as a sign that I should go to bed and finish the history of our intelligence system another day.
You keep outdoing yourself, Rowshan. With Heather nearing completion of her book, it soon may be time for you to explore with her how to make a double exhibition happen, with your exquisite poetry next to her superb photos. If it would be more difficult to create a physical gallery space, perhaps it can be done online somehow. I’ll bet you two could find a way to make that happen.
"...with the old rose and deep tangerine of Turner's skies." Yes! Takes me back 50 year's, falling in love with a painting in London... Thank you Rowshan and Heather!
Well, you got me. I looked you up, you fabulous woman you. I read the article from the Sisters of Mercy and learned about your journey through life so far and only briefly. There is far more to your story, of course, but I am grateful for you. May I post your poem today with Heather’s photo? Although not an “influencer” on social media, I have many people who will be calmed and serenely joy-filled by your words.
Wow, Roshan! What Deborah said! May I post that Sisters of Mercy article here? A short exerpt:
"My life is about eradicating racism, sexism, classism and all the other “isms” that marginalize human beings and destroy our planet." And writing beautiful poems. Thank You.
For the first time, I read your poem out loud...and I got chills from the luscious experience. Thank you again, Rowshan. When I shared to FB and Twitter I added a note to check out your poem. I now look for your comment each time Heather posts a photo of such power. Blessings,
I’m not on Instagram much -- mostly to look at friends’ photos. Tap Search in the search bar at the top, then type my name and it should come up. Tap to follow ... I think.
Unfiltered beauty, more than beautiful, and it is from you, Heather Cox Richardson. There is not a gift like it. Wishing you and Buddy a wonderful Sunday.
Mesmerizing and evocative. Like your work. The stunning image also takes me away, however briefly, from the swirling madness and heroic efforts to stop it.
The sky on fire grabs the attention. But staring at the water brings back so many memories of a childhood on a lake and beneath its surface. We — my brothers and I — would gaze at sunsets through the lens of water, glass smooth or rippled by wind. Or sometimes at our two Labrador retrievers circling above us and wondering where we suddenly went. Or at the lake's surface under assault by torrential rain. I could go on...
Thank you for your added experience. Like the sunset you painted another spectacular picture with your poetic descriptions. I wish you did “ go on and on”. Clearly, you are a talented writer!
AH! I clicked on your profile picture and see that you are a former journalist ! No surprise . As a former English teacher I picked up on your writing style and ability to create beautiful images with your words on paper. To me ,they are even more beautiful than paint on canvass because they allow the imagination to create and depict what is said…
Thank you, Nadine and Sarah, for your kind words. We moved from NH to Central Florida in 1959. I was in the third grade. Hundreds of lakes and, back then, orange groves everywhere. It wasn't until well into adulthood that my two brothers and I learned why we ended up on Lake Sybelia in a small town, Maitland, now subsumed by Orlando.
My father had a challenging childhood. His father abandoned his mother and him when he was still an infant. He always spoke glowingly about the time he spent on a lake in Michigan while visiting the summer vacation home of his close friend's family. At some point he told us he had wanted his boys to grow up on a lake. The rest is a history that all these years later feels very much alive.
A few years ago, I was rummaging through box of my father's things and found a black and white photo from his high school days. He's in a speed boat with several girls and boys. Their hair is swept back by the wind, and a late-day sun illuminates their beaming faces. The same joy he gave his sons.
I hope you have already, and will continue, to write about your life!
My writings have always been in the form of a cathartic release . However, a few years ago, stimulated by my then recent genealogy research and amazing unexpected discoveries, I realized that I had missed countless opportunities to ask my parents important questions . Unfortunately, the entire generation is now gone!
Not wanting that to happen to my children and grandchildren, my husband and I discussed it and decided to begin to consciously write about our growing up years (circumstances totally opposite each other) and then our 50+ years together. We decided to just write one episode at a time that comes to mind rather than a “start to finish” biography. Perhaps at some point they could be put in some kind of order.
Some day, when the children are rummaging through OUR old saved boxes they will find more structure when they discover our writings and all of our letters to each other(along with a bonus of my parents’ saved letters) and the many circumstances we lived through.They will also find a letter from each of us to each of them . There will be answers to some of questions that we missed asking our parents.
Hopefully, they will be given a whole new perspective on what influenced us and they will realize what our lives were like as young parents emerging and evolving as we were raising them …
You're saving the past so your descendants can better understand your lives and times but, equally important, better understand themselves. I applaud you and your husband.
Oh my gosh that is a simply magical recollection and something that feels almost mythic-we have all been there in our imaginations- gazing at the familiar through a different lens, from a foreign place
Viewing's HCR's charming coastal vignettes reminded me that last night my wife brought up from storage Robert McCloskey's "One Morning in Maine", and action-packed tale (for small children) in which Sal loses a tooth, digs clams, and (spoiler alert) accompanies her father and younger sister over the water to town and eat ice cream. We read it in bed together as it refreshed memories of being and parenting a small child.
There is something wonderful and sort of magical about learning something new every day, especially as a child when there is so much new to try and to discover. Even in our dotage, that turns out to remain true; although I find it taking more focus and effort to pursue adventure in late life.
Reality, despite harboring a lot of very creepy stuff, presents unlimited gifts as well as hazards. I want to help create a social environment that makes those gifts, differing ones for differing people, more readily accessible for whomever, and reduces and shields against the worst of hazards, so far as that is practical and possible. What is there not to like about genuine peace?
I have great sunsets but not quite that spectacular.never can understand how people can’t appreciate sunrise and sunsets.get a good nights sleep.maybe sometime take two nights off we your readers will survive!
Your sunset and sunrise photos up there in the Great State of Maine just ALWAYS take the prize; I can't get over the colors that you get up and over there so consistently. We may have 1-4 photographable sunsets in a year here in Southern CA, even with the smog!
A most well deserved day of rest. Your historical facts and brilliant insights Area as stunning as this exquisite sunset.
You said it as well as can be said!
Thank you! Guess you were able to read through my typo! 😍
I agree, Robin.
Breathtaking- sounds like a great day on the water in Maine.
That’s exactly how I felt, Kathy!
“Unfiltered”
Unfiltered vista of amber and rose,
you take my breath away —
you stop me in my tracks
as you prepare the world
for slumbering with your
hint of splendor.
Unfiltered vision of billowing,
smokey, navy clouds coiled with
painted orange wisps
of sunset as the strips of
horizon bid us all farewell
with unabbreviated glory.
Unfiltered, truth-filled lens of
a bountiful sky scape reflecting
and refracting on the rippling waters,
as though a glistening mirror tinted
with the old rose and deep tangerine
of Turner’s skies.
Uncensored, unembellished, intact,
and unimpaired, your canvas
invites us into the most
splendid of god’s canvases —
into the gloriousness
of another unfiltered tomorrow.
Once again you have made a stunning image of an evening in Maine so much more with words. Thank you Rowshan.
Thank you, Paula.
You keep outdoing yourself, Rowshan. With Heather nearing completion of her book, it soon may be time for you to explore with her how to make a double exhibition happen, with your exquisite poetry next to her superb photos. If it would be more difficult to create a physical gallery space, perhaps it can be done online somehow. I’ll bet you two could find a way to make that happen.
What a fabulous idea! (Ps…how does a NYer adjust to life and culture in GA?)
One day at a time…????
Thanks, MLM!
Mim Eisenberg, I had a similar, though less developed, idea as I read Rowshan's latest evocative poem. I think it would make a stunning exhibition!
Thanks, Manuel. I just don't know if Heather would have the time yet to work on developing it.
Wonderful idea . What a gift that would be to all of us and to share
Thanks, Mary!
Thank you, Mim!
"...with the old rose and deep tangerine of Turner's skies." Yes! Takes me back 50 year's, falling in love with a painting in London... Thank you Rowshan and Heather!
Thank you, MaryPat!
Well, you got me. I looked you up, you fabulous woman you. I read the article from the Sisters of Mercy and learned about your journey through life so far and only briefly. There is far more to your story, of course, but I am grateful for you. May I post your poem today with Heather’s photo? Although not an “influencer” on social media, I have many people who will be calmed and serenely joy-filled by your words.
Wow, Roshan! What Deborah said! May I post that Sisters of Mercy article here? A short exerpt:
"My life is about eradicating racism, sexism, classism and all the other “isms” that marginalize human beings and destroy our planet." And writing beautiful poems. Thank You.
You are too kind, MaryPat! Thanks so much!
My goodness, thank you, Deborah! Yes, of course, you may.
Thank you!
For the first time, I read your poem out loud...and I got chills from the luscious experience. Thank you again, Rowshan. When I shared to FB and Twitter I added a note to check out your poem. I now look for your comment each time Heather posts a photo of such power. Blessings,
Thank you, Chaplain Terry!
HCR-Rowshan
Hmmmmm!
Inspirational:
Stunning duet of loveliness;
Seems we are all blessed being born in the right century,
Being bent on bending it to our own wills;
Becoming accidental radicals of merciful love,
Being enabled to know such joy just by living life unselfconsciously in this precious moment of shared bliss...
Thank you!
Wow, George! That’s inspirational! Thank you!
Thank you Rowshan. Heather provided a beautiful picture and you added this luscious poem.
Oh, to have your talent Rowshan. You are truly blessed. Thank you.
Thanks so much, Jeanne. Heather’s photos are the inspiration!
Simply lovely, Rowshan. Thank you!
Thank you, Marlene!
How do I follow you on Instagram?
I’m not on Instagram much -- mostly to look at friends’ photos. Tap Search in the search bar at the top, then type my name and it should come up. Tap to follow ... I think.
Thanks I use it to follow various artists and writers (I’m a painter) and my grandchildren . Don’t do Facebook or Twitter
That’s beautiful 🙏🏼
Thanks so much, Lisa!
Rowshawn, Your ability to capture the essence of Heather and Buddy's images in words is amazing!
Thank you so much, Manuel!
Unfiltered beauty, more than beautiful, and it is from you, Heather Cox Richardson. There is not a gift like it. Wishing you and Buddy a wonderful Sunday.
Mesmerizing and evocative. Like your work. The stunning image also takes me away, however briefly, from the swirling madness and heroic efforts to stop it.
The sky on fire grabs the attention. But staring at the water brings back so many memories of a childhood on a lake and beneath its surface. We — my brothers and I — would gaze at sunsets through the lens of water, glass smooth or rippled by wind. Or sometimes at our two Labrador retrievers circling above us and wondering where we suddenly went. Or at the lake's surface under assault by torrential rain. I could go on...
Thank you.
Thank you for your added experience. Like the sunset you painted another spectacular picture with your poetic descriptions. I wish you did “ go on and on”. Clearly, you are a talented writer!
AH! I clicked on your profile picture and see that you are a former journalist ! No surprise . As a former English teacher I picked up on your writing style and ability to create beautiful images with your words on paper. To me ,they are even more beautiful than paint on canvass because they allow the imagination to create and depict what is said…
Thank you, Nadine and Sarah, for your kind words. We moved from NH to Central Florida in 1959. I was in the third grade. Hundreds of lakes and, back then, orange groves everywhere. It wasn't until well into adulthood that my two brothers and I learned why we ended up on Lake Sybelia in a small town, Maitland, now subsumed by Orlando.
My father had a challenging childhood. His father abandoned his mother and him when he was still an infant. He always spoke glowingly about the time he spent on a lake in Michigan while visiting the summer vacation home of his close friend's family. At some point he told us he had wanted his boys to grow up on a lake. The rest is a history that all these years later feels very much alive.
A few years ago, I was rummaging through box of my father's things and found a black and white photo from his high school days. He's in a speed boat with several girls and boys. Their hair is swept back by the wind, and a late-day sun illuminates their beaming faces. The same joy he gave his sons.
I hope you have already, and will continue, to write about your life!
My writings have always been in the form of a cathartic release . However, a few years ago, stimulated by my then recent genealogy research and amazing unexpected discoveries, I realized that I had missed countless opportunities to ask my parents important questions . Unfortunately, the entire generation is now gone!
Not wanting that to happen to my children and grandchildren, my husband and I discussed it and decided to begin to consciously write about our growing up years (circumstances totally opposite each other) and then our 50+ years together. We decided to just write one episode at a time that comes to mind rather than a “start to finish” biography. Perhaps at some point they could be put in some kind of order.
Some day, when the children are rummaging through OUR old saved boxes they will find more structure when they discover our writings and all of our letters to each other(along with a bonus of my parents’ saved letters) and the many circumstances we lived through.They will also find a letter from each of us to each of them . There will be answers to some of questions that we missed asking our parents.
Hopefully, they will be given a whole new perspective on what influenced us and they will realize what our lives were like as young parents emerging and evolving as we were raising them …
You're saving the past so your descendants can better understand your lives and times but, equally important, better understand themselves. I applaud you and your husband.
Oh my gosh that is a simply magical recollection and something that feels almost mythic-we have all been there in our imaginations- gazing at the familiar through a different lens, from a foreign place
A beautiful memory -- and how lovely of you to share it!
Sunset…pure poetry. Thank you always for the unforgettable images. And here’s a poem from Joy Harjo
“An American Sunrise
BY JOY HARJO
We were running out of breath, as we ran out to meet ourselves. We
were surfacing the edge of our ancestors’ fights, and ready to strike.
It was difficult to lose days in the Indian bar if you were straight.
Easy if you played pool and drank to remember to forget. We
made plans to be professional — and did. And some of us could sing
so we drummed a fire-lit pathway up to those starry stars. Sin
was invented by the Christians, as was the Devil, we sang. We
were the heathens, but needed to be saved from them — thin
chance. We knew we were all related in this story, a little gin
will clarify the dark and make us all feel like dancing. We
had something to do with the origins of blues and jazz
I argued with a Pueblo as I filled the jukebox with dimes in June,
forty years later and we still want justice. We are still America. We
know the rumors of our demise. We spit them out. They die soon.”©
Source: Poetry (February 2017)
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/92063/an-american-sunrise
Thank you for sharing the whole piece! Loved it.
Irenie,
Thank you for sharing Joy's poetry. I requested a couple of her books of poetry for a past birthday.
Oh Irenie! This is so powerful and true. Shared with my Anishinaabe children, and friends. Thank You.
Viewing's HCR's charming coastal vignettes reminded me that last night my wife brought up from storage Robert McCloskey's "One Morning in Maine", and action-packed tale (for small children) in which Sal loses a tooth, digs clams, and (spoiler alert) accompanies her father and younger sister over the water to town and eat ice cream. We read it in bed together as it refreshed memories of being and parenting a small child.
There is something wonderful and sort of magical about learning something new every day, especially as a child when there is so much new to try and to discover. Even in our dotage, that turns out to remain true; although I find it taking more focus and effort to pursue adventure in late life.
Reality, despite harboring a lot of very creepy stuff, presents unlimited gifts as well as hazards. I want to help create a social environment that makes those gifts, differing ones for differing people, more readily accessible for whomever, and reduces and shields against the worst of hazards, so far as that is practical and possible. What is there not to like about genuine peace?
Happy hug Emoji!!! Thank you for these wonderful images J L.
I thought of a relevant poem by Rebecca Baggett:
for my daughters
I want to tell you
that the world is still beautiful.
I tell you that despite
children raped on city streets,
shot down in school rooms,
despite the slow poisons seeping
from old and hidden sins
into our air, soil, water,
despite the thinning film
that encloses our aching world.
Despite my own terror and despair.
I want you to look again and again,
to recognize the tender grasses,
curled like a baby's fine hairs
around your fingers, as a recurring
miracle, to see that the river rocks
shine like God, that the crisp
voices of the orange and gold
October leaves are laughing at death.
I want you to look beneath
the grass, to note
the fragile hieroglyphs
of ant, snail, beetle. I want
you to understand that you are
no more and no less necessary
than the brown recluse, the ruby-
throated hummingbird, the humpback
whale, the profligate mimosa.
I want to say, like Neruda,
that I am waiting for
"a great and common tenderness,"
that I still believe
we are capable of attention,
that anyone who notices the world
must want to save it.
https://www.ayearofbeinghere.com/2014/03/rebecca-baggett-testimony.html
"...a great and common tenderness,"
that I still believe
we are capable of attention,
that anyone who notices the world
must want to save it."
Thank You
Take a rest. Renew yourself!
I have great sunsets but not quite that spectacular.never can understand how people can’t appreciate sunrise and sunsets.get a good nights sleep.maybe sometime take two nights off we your readers will survive!
As much as I love your insight and sharing of your knowledge, I think that you should make it a point to rest Saturday and Sunday to recharge.
Yes indeed, 2 nights of good rest and recuperation!
So glad you were able to enjoy this beautiful day. Rest well, knowing you have made a difference in the course of our history. Thank you.
Fiery! (like the moment)
Sweet dreams -- and thank you for sharing that stunning sunset on the water! Wow!
blessings, Linda from Lomita, CA
Beautiful picture. Wonderful that you can kayak in such beauty! Must be so rejuvenating.
Wow!
Gorgeous!
Your sunset and sunrise photos up there in the Great State of Maine just ALWAYS take the prize; I can't get over the colors that you get up and over there so consistently. We may have 1-4 photographable sunsets in a year here in Southern CA, even with the smog!
Come see us in Maine. :)