How is one to live a moral and compassionate existence when one is fully aware of the blood, the horror inherent in life, when one finds darkness not only in one’s culture but within oneself? If there is a stage at which an individual life becomes truly adult, it must be when one grasps the irony in its unfolding and accepts responsibility for a life lived in the midst of such paradox. One must live in the middle of contradiction, because if all contradiction were eliminated at once life would collapse. There are simply no answers to some of the great pressing questions. You continue to live them out, making your life a worthy expression of leaning into the light. ~ Barry Lopez (Arctic Dreams)
Exploring cemeteries is something we enjoy, even ones in which none of our known ancestors lie buried. They are pleasant places to take walks and get some exercise – we even met a couple of joggers in the 22-acre non-sectarian Stonington Cemetery on Easter Sunday.
3.31.13 ~ Stonington, Connecticut
Reflecting on the life stories stone carvers have told with their memorial masonry…
3.31.13 ~ Stonington, Connecticut
In the smaller sculpture (above), which is elevated on a pedestal, the woman is leaning on an upright log. In the similar, but larger sculpture (below), the woman is leaning on a pillar.
3.31.13 ~ Stonington, Connecticut
A close-up of the same statue…
3.31.13 ~ Stonington, Connecticut
The following engraving touched me – how much sorrow the simple word “only” conveys.
3.31.13 ~ Stonington, Connecticut
The Stonington Cemetery was incorporated in 1849, expanding a small 18th century burial ground. A group of Stonington leaders, many of whom made their fortunes as a result of the whaling and shipping trades, came together to design a significant horticultural and aesthetic landscape site responding to the “rural” or “garden” cemetery movement of the time. ~ Stonington Cemetery
3.31.13 ~ Stonington, Connecticut
A majestic tree, waiting patiently for spring to begin in earnest…
3.31.13 ~ Stonington, Connecticut
A bit of architecture to mark the ATWOOD family plot. I wonder if they could be related, as I have so many Atwoods on my family tree, though my branch settled in Plymouth County, Massachusetts.
3.31.13 ~ Stonington, Connecticut
A large rough-hewn stone cross – I love its simplicity.
3.31.13 ~ Stonington, Connecticut
Following the custom of Laurie Buchanan over at Speaking from the Heart, I selected the word ‘patience’ to focus on in 2013. In a bit of synchronicity I found another statue of a woman in a newer part of the cemetery, much like the ones in the older part. This stone carver gave her a name – PATIENCE. She is leaning on an upright log.
3.31.13 ~ Stonington, Connecticut
The ship’s wheel (below) indicates a sailor lies buried here, the grave much more recent than most of the others in this cemetery. The surname sounds Portuguese to me – in the mid-1800s it was primarily immigrant Portuguese sailors who manned the local Stonington whaling fleet.
3.31.13 ~ Stonington, Connecticut
A lovely little garden plot by the woods…
3.31.13 ~ Stonington, Connecticut
3.31.13 ~ Stonington, Connecticut
This anchor (below) decorates a pile, where sailors would secure their boats to the docks with ropes. I’m wondering if this stone is marking the corner of a family cemetery plot. Perhaps the plot was bought but never used, or maybe it is filled with unmarked graves.
3.31.13 ~ Stonington, Connecticut
All true stories begin and end in a cemetery. ~ Carlos Ruiz Zafón (The Shadow of the Wind)
“LL Ori & The Orion Nebula” by NASA, ESA & The Hubble Heritage Team
The lesson which life repeats and constantly enforces, is “Look under your foot.” You are always nearer the divine and the true sources of your power than you think. The lure of the distant and the difficult is deceptive. The great opportunity is where you are. Do not despise your own place an hour. Every place is under the stars, every place is the center of the world. ~ John Burroughs (Farm Journal, September 1908)
To lovers of the wild, these mountains are not a hundred miles away. Their spiritual power and the goodness of the sky make them near, as a circle of friends. … You cannot feel yourself out of doors; plain, sky, and mountains ray beauty which you feel. You bathe in these spirit-beams, turning round and round, as if warming at a camp-fire. Presently you lose consciousness of your own separate existence: you blend with the landscape, and become part and parcel of nature. ~ John Muir (A Thousand-Mile Walk to the Gulf)
This past weekend we took a long walk in the woods at Connecticut College Arboretum, and found ourselves fascinated with all the dead and dying trees. Some have been recently toppled, either by Hurricane Sandy or Blizzard Charlotte. This is the time of year to see deep into the woods, before the view is obscured by green foliage.
a mighty one fallen ~ 3.23.13 ~ New London, Connecticut
This fallen tree brought underground stones, embedded in its root system, up into the air, along with the soil.
3.23.13 ~ New London, Connecticut
Tim (5’8″) to give some perspective ~ 3.23.13 ~ New London, Connecticut
skunk cabbage ~ 3.23.13 ~ New London, Connecticut
Skunk cabbage is one of the first plants to bloom in spring. Its flowers are often partly or wholly hidden beneath last year’s fallen leaves. Like many other dark-colored flowers, skunk cabbage is pollinated mostly by flies. The flowers actually produce heat — a benefit to the flies out in cold weather. The leaves emerge after the flowers. They smell unpleasant if they are crushed, hence the name “skunk cabbage.” ~ Connecticut Botanical Society
dying of natural causes 3.23.13 ~ New London, Connecticut
living with scars and imperfections ~ 3.23.13 ~ New London, Connecticut
roots anchored in massive boulders 3.23.13 ~ New London, Connecticut
boulders deposited by ancient glaciers ~ 3.23.13 ~ New London, Connecticut
3.23.13 ~ New London, Connecticut
roots partly above water ~ 3.23.13 ~ New London, Connecticut
swamp reflections ~ 3.23.13 ~ New London, Connecticut
mushrooms! ~ 3.23.13 ~ New London, Connecticut
3.23.13 ~ New London, Connecticut
Imperfection is in some sort essential to all that we know of life. It is a sign of life in a mortal body, that is to say, a state of progress and change. Nothing that lives is, or can be rigidly perfect; part of it is decaying, part nascent. ~ John Ruskin (The Stones of Venice)
a new life, just a few inches tall ~ 3.23.13 ~ New London, Connecticut
I’ll walk where my own nature would be leading: It vexes me to choose another guide: Where the grey flocks in ferny glens are feeding; Where the wild wind blows on the mountainside. ~ Emily Brontë (The Complete Poems of Emily Brontë)
How important are looks and popularity? How do I care for myself and not be selfish? How can I be honest and still be loved? How can I achieve and not threaten others? How can I be sexual and not a sex object? How can I be responsive but not responsible for everyone? ~ Mary Pipher (Reviving Ophelia)
Drifters’ Cove created by Marvin Haltzer 10.12.12 ~ Old Lyme, Connecticut
Ebb & Flo, a brother/sister faerie team live in this riverside home made of driftwood. These faeries control the tide waters of the Lieutenant River. Every six hours, Ebb is busy pulling the salty waters into the marsh and then it’s Flo’s turn to push them back out into the Sound again. This keeps the water always in motion and the marsh a dynamic and beautiful ecosystem for birds, fish, insects, and more. The many shades of green keep the painters busy mixing their vibrant and sunny hues. ~ Wee Faerie Village: Land of Picture Making
Today I baked spaghetti squash for the first time, and served it with a grass-fed ground beef marinara sauce. Mr. Logic thought it tasted good, and so did I! And so the paleo culinary adventure continues…
Zoë and Scarby, sweet little carnivores, are on a grain-free diet, too, and seem pleased with it for the most part, as pleased as cats will allow themselves to admit.
Scarby is still giving Zoë a wide berth, and hissing occasionally to remind Zoë about how things stand between them. She spends her evenings close to Tim on the couch, purring loudly. We’re being patient and encouraging with her.
Zoë provides us with morning entertainment – playing with and pouncing on pony-tail elastics, preferring them to all other toys. And she talks to us all the time. 🙂 My little shadow.
Little darling, it’s been a long cold lonely winter Little darling, the smiles returning to the faces Little darling, I feel that ice is slowly melting Here comes the sun, here comes the sun And I say it’s all right ~ George Harrison ♫ (Here Comes the Sun) ♫
