A full moon and light on the water...

Today, temperatures have been consistently above 85 degrees: there is a suggestion of cloud building up in the high skies, but, at the time of writing, no sign of a break.
Much of the USA is being subjected to a heat wave of unprecedented proportions... 
And, across the pond, England is being deluged with rain.


These atmospheric distinctions are a fitting symbol for the difficulties with my family. My mother alone in her apartment, mourning the absence of my father, and my sister, steady as a rock, doing all she can do, with wisdom and compassion. 
My father is surrounded by nurses and care of all kinds.
We can't know what the future holds right now...


This photograph of watery reflections captures some the moment for me as I write. Taken with a new camera, right off the deck.

Nicholas


Life...it moves on and I can do little about the direction of some of its twists and turns...as I write this, my father-in-law, a friend, who is more a sister of my heart's choosing, and the daughter of beloved friends all lie in hospital beds in England.


This photo taken last week, part looming storm, part light shining through, speaks to me this evening...

The brilliant red of the tree bark, the bold light on the leaves, the first glimpse  of rainbow, gorgeous prism of reflected light...I will focus on these...yes, the dark sky is present...


But, it is not all I see in this moment.


I see the light and commit to move towards it, always....


Judy

The separation of water

Sometimes the enormous distances from the UK are more vivid than others and, today, with my father still in hospital, the separation in time and space from him are made more acute. His health has declined very rapidly, unexpectedly so, in the last few weeks and now we await tests, therapies and, with hope, pray that he might find some sort of improvement.
Speaking with my mother on the phone I am aware just how alone she feels; but thankfully, we have friends in Dorking who are incredible in the way that they are helping and, my sister is stalwartly providing support in every way she can.
Such difficulties are to be expected... he is 80 years old and she 79; but I send them my love across the water and across time.

Nicholas

This moon shone brightly last evening.


It's dusky, reddish hue, subtle against the explosion of colour and energy in the firework celebrations taking place.


Today, as we hold Nicholas' Dad in our hearts and our spirits, I am reminded that early in our love story, Nicholas and I were speaking on the phone, it was 4am in NYC and 11pm in Surrey, and I asked him to look up at the moon.


It was a beautiful full moon, quite spectacular in colour and form, not unlike this one....he could see it, together we held the moon in our gaze, joined by its reflective light.


For a moment, the ocean disappeared and we were alongside one another. 


I hope the moon is shining in England tonight. 


Judy

Fireworks...

This evening we watched spectacular firework displays in New York and Boston and, right outside the door here in Rochester, an amazing show lit up the night sky as the dusky full moon rose in the East.





I feel totally welcomed into this amazing country and, watching this evening's events, feel inspired by the sense of pride in the nation that is palpable.
Thank you, America...


Nicholas


I have always been astonished by fireworks, from Labor Day celebrations in a little town called Rushford, NY...near to where I grew up, to my time in NYC when I saw the incredible displays on the Hudson River, surrounding the Statue of Liberty...but perhaps none were more beautiful than those just outside my Mom and Dad's house tonight...

I guess it is because I have come home again...


This is my country and when I moved to England, to be with the love of my life, I don't think I ever thought I would live here again. 
But I do.
We do.
And isn't it just amazing...


Judy

Independence Day...

Tomorrow is the 4th of July and we will be celebrating Independence Day; by way of a welcome to America, Judy's parents had organized a party this evening with cupcakes and all things American.
I can't believe its only just over two weeks since we arrived!

But it is a fabulous experience to be welcomed here like this.


Last night we watched the full moon's reflection dance upon the water of the pond. Rising mysteriously in the East we couldn't see the moon at all for a while, but could make out its reflection on the water as if cut off from its source.


Nicholas

Meet Bernie, the Cunard Captain Bear...after his trip across the Atlantic he is waving his flag to join in the welcome to America party for Nicholas.

Tonight was like a big hug, thus the choice of a teddy bear for my blog photo.


And, tonight, we send hugs to all those we love across the Atlantic...we will never be independent from you, for love weaves our lives and our hearts together, across all time, all distance, all comprehension.


Judy

The Watermill

Not far from where we are renting is an old watermill which we happened across today on the way back from Dryden.

The wheel turned with the water, hardly splashing in the midday sun. It was a magnificent sight. And, just behind, is a restaurant which is open in the evenings. We will return.

The sun and warmth continue...a glorious warmth that suffuses bones and skin. 
We have been in touch with so many friends over here; some in Florida, some in New York, some in Maine, some in California. 


And the weird thing about time, is that it has only been two weeks since we landed in Brooklyn and disembarked from the Queen Mary. 


I have a dream journal that I have kept written since 2001... and, returning to it, I am astonished by the symbolism of dreams and memory: five years ago I had a dream in which Judy and I visited the Eastern seaboard of the US in a giant ship... 
strange, but true.


Nicholas

A Boy with a Red Balloon...
came into our line of vision on the shores of Cayuga Lake. 
The light caught his balloon perfectly as he played in the shade of one of the majestic willows that grace water's edge.


In this image, I see so much of what I feel.


His left hand is lower, as though he has released much of what he might have been holding onto, while his right hand is opened, outstretched to the day...the moment...his life.


And, of course, there is the balloon, filled with breath, filled with life, reflecting the brightness of the new day.


As I, myself, stand poised at the cusp of my own new life, I am grateful for the fullness of expression found in this child's image. 


Let go.
Remain open to possibilities.
Breathe.
Dare to do it in living colour.


Judy

Scottish day in Ithaca

Today, we stumbled across a celebration of Scottish ancestry in Ithaca. Here in Stewart park in Ithaca, close by the southern end of Lake Cayuga, were scores of people dressed in kilts; a sound of bagpipes and drums, and, a fabulous sense of ancestry writ large.

Across from here, huge willows billowed in the wind at the edge of the lake... it was a magnificent sight.


Cayuga Lake stems north for 35 miles or so... a lake on a scale that dwarfs perspective.
As I write, a red winged blackbird has swooped down to eat the seed that we've placed upon the deck; its red shoulders standing out against its darker black wings.
And, then, suddenly, its gone.


Nicholas

The last time we heard bagpipes on a lakefront we were in Loch Lomond in Scotland...so this was a wonderfully synchronistic and joyous event.


The bagpipes were haunting and the drums cut through the mournful tonality with a rhythm both strange and familiar to my spirit.


Scotland, and in particular, its sacred island of Iona, changed my life forever and I am, without hesitation or questioning, drawn to the sounds and colours and particular raw and barren beauty it holds, I always have been in a way.


Ithaca is different from Iona, much more lush, greener, softer, if you will...but today, at the Highland Festival, I saw that thousands of people in this area have Scottish heritage, the Finger Lakes resonated with the early settlers and they made it their new homeland following the American Revolution. 


It's beauty, the lakes, the deep gorges, the flowing rivers, the waterfalls, these have beckoned me as well...and I am so deeply aware that in moving here, on many many levels I am coming home....


Judy

Clouds and ripples

I photographed this cloud shape on Judy's birthday, four years ago. It was a remarkable phenomenon, changing slowly over the thirty or so minutes that we watched and sipped champagne.

I used to love watching clouds as a child; used to imagine huge castles and shapes forming above my head. 


Today we have a 20% chance of thunderstorms and rain, but the sky is bright and hot. Further south in  Washington DC and surrounding areas, huge storms have cut power to millions...


and outside in the pond, the frogs chitter to each other.


Nicholas


















I was thinking this morning about ripples, it isn't too difficult to focus on them really when this is just outside your backdoor....

With every nuance, every subtle shift in the wind, the surface changes, the reflections vary. 


Here in this moment, a fish briefly snatched at a fly and then back, once more to its watery home. If you look very closely you can see the impact of its action, the ripples have created a spherical pattern emanating from the centre.


A life is like this. Each action we take has an effect, a circle widens around the smallest gesture, a word of kindness, an act of compassion. 


Reminding me, anew, that we are connected to one another, and this world, in a a manner beyond my wildest imaginings...


Judy