Friday, July 23, 2010

Strolling Castine

A friend once questioned why I would express melancholy or a bit of anguish or similar on a blog post. I wish I never had to do that. But I started out writing this more for me, and us, than I did for anyone not expressing such things when I am feeling them to any degree seems like a personal injustice. Perhaps not a lie, but not-the-whole-truth. And I like to look back at my thoughts every bit as much as my pictures. In the pictures- memories. But in the thoughts and feelings- the history of the growth through the journey. There are mountains. There are valleys. Even when you live on the mountain there are times when you must pass through the valley. And if you find yourself dwelling in the valley, there are times when you must cross the mountain as well. Living on the plains between the two may be possible, but has never seemed totally appealing to me, so I suppose I must conclude that all of life's ups and downs are necessary...and not to be ignored.

We continue to be seemingly unable to escape the sadness of recent personal losses, but we are trying to get back our healthy and happy perspective as best we can. A stroll around the coastal Maine town of Castine seemed just the thing. If there is anything flat about Castine, I wouldn't be able to tell you what it is or where. The little league baseball field had to be nestled into the interior of the Fort that overlooks the scenic harbor- as I suppose it was the only parcel of level land, however small, that they could find. Main Street is hilly in all directions. "Being in shape" greatly benefits anyone walking around town- which, for the shopper in you- is more about real estate offices and less about souvenirs and basic merchandise. But the scenery is calming and spectacular and inspirational even for those in the distraction of the doldrums. Doldrums. A nautical term referencing "calm" and "directionless" befitting the situation as the winds of fate have seemingly stopped pushing us on a predictable course for the time being. There is only one thing to be done in the doldrums- wait. And try to find a way to enjoy the calm that comes before the exhilaration of the next wind.

It was a slow and deliberate stroll. There was not so much to see... as there were images to reflect upon:

1 comment:

Chris said...

Time to grieve is something you need to give yourself. We're thinking of you and giving Odie extra hugs.