giant puppet pageant

painted-bird

Well, our long-awaited adventure in North Carolina has begun! We took an overnight train to Washington, DC, and met our nephew and niece for breakfast at the station – it was so good catching up with David and Erica and hearing about their jobs and trips and plans. About noon we got on a very slow and very bumpy train to Raleigh – sometimes it felt like we were traveling in a covered wagon, or at least what my imagination tells me that would have been like.

As the train pulled into the station in the evening, there on the platform we could see our daughter, pregnant and due to give birth any day now. What an amazing and beautiful sight! We’ve been getting organized and settled in here at Dima & Larisa’s comfortable home in Chapel Hill, and now the last stretch of waiting begins… A new twig on our family tree will soon be welcomed into the world.

An old friend of mine from high school happens to live in the neighboring town of Carrboro. Last night she and her husband took us to an outdoor stone amphitheater, Forest Theatre, where we saw a giant puppet show, “The Painted Bird,” a production of the Paperhand Puppet Intervention. It was spectacular! I have to say I was dazzled by the huge brightly colored puppets, the astonishing choreography, the live orchestra and special sound effects. Some of the smaller field and forest creatures even slipped into the audience to interact with some of the children. What a sensual treat!

THE PAINTED BIRD is an enchanted pageant of weaving colors, huge puppets, rabbits, mice, and hedgehogs! It is a story of where we came from and how we got here. From the little creatures of the fields and forests, emerging from the brown earth, to the lumbering beasts of green sunlit pastures, all dancing to the rhythms of life. It is a story of time and forgetfulness. Who of us can remember the story of the Painted Bird who carries all the shades of the world on its wings, when the land has gone grey and the light faded? The furry creatures of forest and field must work together to keep a numbing greyness from sweeping across the land. Will the colors be consumed entirely from the world by the ever-encroaching grey? Come see for yourself, and the Painted Bird will rise with our own dreams of a brighter world this summer.

Sometimes it was fun to watch the children watching the show, their attention riveted, their eyes wide with wonder. And the lovely tall trees surrounding the amphitheater added their energy to the magic of the evening.

Will let everyone know when our little granddaughter arrives! Counting the days…

changing ocean tides

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“Children Playing on the Beach” by Mary Cassatt

Can the child within my heart rise above
Can I sail through the changing ocean tides
Can I handle the seasons of my life
Well, I’ve been afraid of changing
‘Cause I’ve built my life around you
But time makes you get bolder
Even children get older
And I’m getting older too
~ Stevie Nicks
♫ (Landslide) ♫

an animal’s eyes

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8.23.14 ~ Groton Family Farm

An animal’s eyes have the power to speak a great language.
~ Martin Buber
(I & Thou)

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8.23.14 ~ Groton Family Farm

Yesterday we went to pick up fresh eggs from our local family farm. While there I decided to pause and capture some photos of chickens. Well, this sheep presented himself and was very interested in me, as a possible source of food, no doubt. He seemed to be very good natured and patient with all the chickens clucking and cooing around him. And one decided to stand on his back!

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8.23.14 ~ Groton Family Farm

We’ve been having a quiet, peaceful weekend, with lovely low-humidity weather. It’s a rare treat to putter and meander through the days without feeling rushed about anything. Very refreshing and restorative!

storm on the way

8.12.14 ~ Groton, Connecticut
swamp rose mallow ~ 8.12.14 ~ Beach Pond

misty sunlit noon
swamp mallows basking in pink
a storm on the way
~ Barbara Rodgers
(By the Sea)

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8.12.14 ~ Eastern Point Beach

I first met this battered old gull three years ago in August of 2011, when we were expecting Hurricane Irene. Today he sat on this post right next to us, closer than he’s ever come before, and we heard his long and mournful cry again. He looks a lot worse for wear, his life has no doubt been difficult with that badly mangled foot. Now it looks like he has a barnacle or a growth on his beak. I think he was letting us know about the approaching rain storm. No hurricane this time, though.

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this little flower

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“purple saxifrage, Svalbard” by Michael Haferkamp

As if some little Arctic flower
Opon the polar hem –
Went wandering down the Latitudes
Until it puzzled came
To continents of summer –
To firmaments of sun –
To strange, bright crowds of flowers –
And birds, of foreign tongue!
I say, As if this little flower –
To Eden, wandered in –
What then? Why nothing,
Only, your inference therefrom!
~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #177)

The polar hem – I became completely enchanted with the metaphor Emily used for the Arctic Circle! What wildflowers might there be living north of latitude 66° 33′ 44″ N? The purple saxifrage in the photo above grows on Svalbard, a Norwegian archipelago in the Arctic Ocean, well above the polar circle, at latitudes 74° to 81° N.

So what would it mean if this little Arctic flower found itself in Paradise? I suppose it could only mean what we think it means – the possibilities are infinite!

gull mystery

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8.1.14 ~ Eastern Point Beach

I wonder if some of these big juvenile gulls could be hybrids. I have given up trying to identify them…

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All things come and go:
People, seasons, the wind.
Only the sea remains,
the sea’s breakers repeating themselves.
Never the same.
Always the same.
~ Kolbein Falkeid
(Sea & Sky)

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