Life can be so long, now and then
lasting all of months on end
broken by tall grass,
deep-flowing rivers
and kisses
that last no longer than an apple takes
to drop
in that fleeting second between summer and fall.
~ Terje Johanssen
(The Magic of Fjords)
Quantum physics shows us the universe as a dynamic web of connection.
~ Robert Moss
(The Three “Only” Things)
Technology is destructive only in the hands of people who do not realize that they are one and the same process as the universe.
~ Alan Watts
(Zen and the Art of Making a Living: A Practical Guide to Creative Career Design)
For man, autumn is a time of harvest, of gathering together. For nature, it is a time of sowing, of scattering abroad.
~ Edwin Way Teale
(Autumn Across America)
A light wind swept over the corn, and all nature laughed in the sunshine.
~ Anne Brontë
(The Tenant of Wildfell Hall)
Of course no evening at the beach would be complete without a visit from our old friend with the mangled leg and foot. The gull may just be greeting us in a friendly manner, but his call is so mournful and long we often wonder what tale of woe he is trying to share. The burdened gull looks in a lot better shape now than he did at the beginning of the summer.
I’ve learned not to feel too sorry for this gull. He doesn’t seem to feel sorry for himself. His large strong wings work perfectly well and we see him flying and fishing out over the rocks and the water. And every summer he’s an expert at swooping down and snatching hot dogs from unsuspecting diners at the picnic tables. I once saw him swallow a foot-long hot dog, whole, in one big gulp! Human food is not good for gulls and most people, including us, obey the rules not to feed them. At least not on purpose. 🙂
We learned that we are not this old gull’s only friends. While a group of three off-duty lifeguards were walking along, chatting and gathering up their equipment for the last time this summer, he flew over and landed on a picnic table right in front of them and squawked at them. They all said hello and spoke to him and then finally one said, as the gull flew off, “Good-bye, Claws! Please don’t die!”
So Tim & I are not the only ones who wonder at the end of each summer if this wounded gull will make it through the coming winter. Since I first met this gull in 2011, he must be at least four years old, probably more. Gulls live ten to fifteen years so it is possible he may be around for many summers to come.
Jonathan Seagull discovered that boredom and fear and anger are the reasons that a gull’s life is so short, and with these gone from his thought, he lived a long fine life indeed.
~ Richard Bach
(Jonathan Livingston Seagull)
photos by Tim Rodgers
Today we went down to the beach for our last hot dogs of the season. I haven’t been taking many pictures this summer – too busy with ailments, illnesses and surgeries and determined to post pictures of our Norway trip before starting on other picture projects. But we’ve been down at the beach as often as possible in the evenings and have enjoyed the gulls and their antics.
I don’t remember what year the tiny laughing gulls started appearing at our beach but there is a large flock of them now. This year they came away from the parking lot, which was an unsatisfactory background for photos, and spent more time on the grass and on the rocks by the water. So I brought the camera today and finally got some good pictures of a couple of them standing on the rocks. I’m pretty sure these are “first summer” non-breeding adults.
Feeling wistful, yearning for something intangible. It’s still too hot and unbearably humid. Record-breaking temperatures are forecast for the next few days – a heat wave in September. Ugh. Already school districts without air conditioning in classrooms are announcing early dismissals for tomorrow, like they did several times last week. Autumn cannot come soon enough. It will come, though – it always does.
Katie’s all-too-brief mid-August visit was a bright spot in our mostly crummy summer. We hadn’t seen her in two months and were happy for the chance to see what’s she’s been up to lately. At eleven months old she is crawling and exploring her world. Because the caregivers at her daycare label her belongings “Katherine V” (her surname begins with a V) her father has taken to calling her Queen Katherine the 5th.
The Russian name for teddy bear is misha and Katie brought one of hers with her. (You may remember her other grandparents are from Russia…) Her face lit up and she sighed with pleasure when she saw the four mishas I had waiting for her here. Then she tightly hugged each and every one of them in turn.
Katie’s parents told us that she loves music and is fond of Jason Mraz. She dances on her knees and enjoyed shaking toy maracas to the music we were playing in the background. The next day she bonded with her teenage cousin Kia over music. They sat on the floor facing each other and bobbed their heads to the music Kia played from her cell phone. It was so sweet!
Green beans and scrambled eggs for breakfast – yes!
Katie and I got to read several books together and it warmed my heart to see that she loves to read on her own, too. Maybe some day we’ll find a way to tame all those wildly adorable cowlicks.
Morning nap in Grammy’s arms – an hour and a half of bliss for me. Little did we know that hours later our visit would be cut short when Grandpa Tim got seriously ill with another bout of diverticulitis and wound up in the hospital for three days. But Katie’s aunt Bonnie and cousin Kia came down to look after her and the three of them had a wonderful time together. What a blessing a loving family is.
In a couple of weeks Katie will be coming again for another visit. I cannot wait!!!
Fossen means waterfall in Norwegian. The attraction at Steindalsfossen is that one can walk under the waterfall, which was an amazing experience for me. I’m told this is one of the most visited tourist sites in Norway. The souvenir shop (above) was near the bottom of the waterfall, where the path started which led up to the waterfall.
Located in the village of Stein, along Hardangerfjord, we visited when melting snow made Steindalsfossen extra full of rushing water. The waterfall is 151′ (46m) high. We were impressed!
There was a platform at the top of the path, beyond the walk under the waterfall. From there the souvenir shop below and nearby village of Stein could be viewed.
We felt pretty lucky on this trip. We kept arriving places when almost no one else was there, and then as we were leaving, a tour bus (or cruise ship as happened in Flåm) would show up with loads of tourists. As we went back down the path we encountered a big group of people from that tour bus you can see down there in the parking lot. We were grateful we had Steindalsfossen to ourselves as long as we did.
On this day we woke up in Bergen, rented a car, and made our way out of the city to Hardangerfjord. We spent most of this day driving the length of the fjord (179 km or 111 miles) and enjoying the scenery, making a couple of stops. The first thing we spotted was this tiny island with a little building sitting on it. It was so picturesque we looked for a spot to pull over so we could take pictures of it. As we were waiting to cross the highway we heard shrieks of delight and turned to see two girls coming down the side road on a bicycle. I got this picture (above) as they were turning around and getting ready to head back up the hill. They were gone as quickly as they appeared!
So then we walked across the highway and took lots of pictures of the little island, wishing we could somehow see the other side of it! It might be a boathouse?
Dawn-awakening coves, hammer-blows
of light against the sky and out there
in the fjord mouth, birdsong, clamorous, crescendo
as from a works yard,
the strident assembly of a brand new day,
a sun will soon be ready for launching!
~ Stein Mehren
(Early)
This pretty scene (below) was also to be appreciated – I love how the mountains were reflected in the fjord.
Next stop: Steindalsfossen Waterfall
A child, her wayward pencil drew
On margins of her book
Garlands of flowers, dancing elves,
Bird, butterfly and brook.
Lessons undone, and play forgot
Seeking with hand and heart
The teacher whom she learned to love
Before she knew ‘t was Art.
~ Louisa May Alcott
(Louisa May Alcott: A Biography)