This is the early morning view from the home of my friend, Paula Krauss, which is on a small cove on Lake Winnipesaukee in New Hampshire. She and her family have been spending their summers here for many years, and she graciously invites me up for a bit of heaven every year. In June, she will retire from teaching, and then return to her summer home and the call of the loons. I wish her well as she prepares to turn down this new path.
This photo was taken by my Dad in the Badlands of South Dakota in the late 1960s. I was standing near the edge of the platform, looking down into the abyss, and he was above us. We went camping with our cousins who lived in South Dakota on this trip. I remember that it was pretty cold, and we were freezing in the tent. I wish I could remember more about it, but I’m sure it was fun. I’m sure it wasn’t as much fun for my mother, who still had to cook for six kids and a husband on a little camp stove.
I don’t have many photos that work for this week’s photo challenge. It will be interesting to see what others have selected.
The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2012 annual report for this blog.
Here’s an excerpt:
600 people reached the top of Mt. Everest in 2012. This blog got about 6,600 views in 2012. If every person who reached the top of Mt. Everest viewed this blog, it would have taken 11 years to get that many views.
How to make sense of this mixed bag of a life we lead?
When I read blogs or essays by people from the gun lobby or the Tea Party, to try to see the world from their perspective, I wonder why they see red and I see green. How does experience take us to such different places? What colors our experiences in such different ways?
How does something like the Newtown school shootings cause one person to run to Cabella’s to buy a gun and another to support laws to ban automatic weapons.
I read a 10,000-word essay a few days ago that worked very hard to support the arming of America, to explain how loaded guns equal safety, and to justify why teachers should be trained to shoot intruders. Very reasoned. Very logical. Very convincing.
I just don’t want to live in the world the writer is painting.
And he would say I already do.
I have no answers. But I don’t trust the voices that so loudly assert they do. It’s hard to find balance in all things when these voices at either end are so determined to be right.
I’ve never held extreme views on anything — but I say that from my own biased perspective.
After all, even voting seems to be an extreme act nowadays.
My mood, my beliefs, my views on life remain as gray as this day.