a memory of a lost year with hope

“That is the land of lost content, I see it shining plain, the happy highways where I went and cannot come again.”*

We have not met for quite a long time and then we get together again from time to time. At time like this, for a year plus now, each gathering of friends in person is rare and precious. We can no longer gather a big group like we used to do, but the few who manage to do so take the bother to come and bring their personal warmth and care to the rest. It is really a time to ponder and consider.

Why did we not value our previous freedom when we were so free to walk about, to drop in as and when the wind brings us and the smell of Spring time stirs us? Last year was a harsh Spring for us all as we were all caught unprepared by the news. We found that we have made promises that we could no longer keep. We thought it would be over soon and some of us had postponed our reunion to Summer, then Fall, and then were crushed by the harsh Winter.

For 365 days, daily I stand at the window for a while, and scan the sky, why? I listen to the whispering silence out there, and ask in quiet response, is this new dawn bringing me a time of joyous connection with a long lost one today? Each dusk I sit quietly giving a passing glance at the world outside the glass panel, undeterred by the futility and weariness of waiting. We are separated by an ocean or two. The ocean is too vast to cross. Yet we do not lose hope.

Not all of us are without bags of ages laden on our feet. Yes, the weariness of time. A year had left us, taking some friends with it. We still call those who remain, in a renewed hope with Spring around the corner of our garden, taking virtual coffee and cookies, a glass of wine or two, singing half-forgotten lyrics with whatever words and phrases we recall from old. Yes, we shall not give up. We are thankful we are still around and available for our old friends. Let us press on to be a season of hope makers for each other, my dear friends. Cheers!

Star and coronal and bell
April underfoot renews,
And the hope of man as well
Flowers among the morning dews. (A. E. Housman, ‘Spring Morning’)

*a quote of A. E. Housman

RDP Wednesday – BONANZA of snow

This was taken on 2020-06-09. I call it a bonanza of snow.

 Bonanza to me means a large amount of something desirable. Snow is a novelty to me. The snow came suddenly in October 2019. I enjoyed having a large amount of snow throughout the period I was there. There were also lovely blue sky sunny days in between. The last snow I encountered was on 9th June, 2020, three days before I left the States and flew off to a sunny country. The sun is good for me, but I do miss the snow.

Praise, 2021-02-03

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2021/02/03/rdp-wednesday-bonanza/

A November day in 2014 —a time in the light of another life

I have been thinking about time and found this picture in time passed. This was taken in a place called Baray, at a remote province in an ancient kingdom. It was an ordinary sunny day for a transient traveler. I did not know then I was to return and extend my stay because there was a long story to be written.

I chose this picture at random. When I look closer now I notice the immaculate hand carving on the piece of wood that held up the stairs, commemorating the timeless care and love for art of this people.

Unlike an outsider like me from a relatively developed city, the dust is of no consequence to them. I looked at the superficial cover of dust everywhere. But the artist looked at each piece of solid material (in this case, real wood) underneath the dust cover and decided to make a beauty out of it. I looked at the bicycles and wondered how anyone could bear to ride on them. The proud owners looked at them as valuable assets that enhanced their livelihood. I looked at the lean chicken and wondered they would be of any commercial value. The farmers told me that they didn’t normally eat the chicken as they were considered expensive dishes. They kept the chicken for their eggs and an important day in the future, or for a valued guest from a faraway land…

Yes, I will remember that November day in 2014 —a time in the light of another life, for a long time.

Praise, 2021-02-03

Weekend Sky #1 -with an October Sky poem

October, Woodland Park, Co

I decided to start with my own photograph, “partnered” with a stranger’s poem I found at random in the WordPress blogs. Here is the first poem that aptly titled October Sky (Poem). By clicking on the quote below, you will find a poem that speaks from the soul of a poet. What can be more heart-felt than photographs and poetry after all?

Quote: “After that there is nothing but
the poet’s sadness and a subject for a poem
” (October Sky -poem)

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Weekend Sky #03 -Oct 24th