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bowing to time. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

“the white trout lily humbly bows on the forest floor. much like people, though on a different scale, their presence is ephemeral, fleeting. on sunny days, their petals will curl back, up, towards the sun; on shady days these small flowers may not even open. their simple beauty a mystery to the passerby, their faces shyly downward, they fill the underbrush on the side of the trail, dotting the landscape with fragile white blooms. i trust they are not concerned with the impact they make on the world nor do they wonder about their footprints once they are gone. they are simply there – love – dressed in white floral.” (from a post on august 26, 2021)

the tiny trout lily forest – as seen from the ground – stretching on and on, dotting through dry underbrush, the accumulation of fall and winter now giving it up to spring.

the day was stunning…warm, sunny, blue skies. a gift of a day, indeed. it was our first time back on our loop since we arrived home. it was time to process it all and that trail is one of our touchstones for processing. we wandered along the dirt path, talking, being silent, noting how this new season was transforming our woods.

when you travel to or through places where you are not known – where you are a stranger – there is a sense of humility. we immerse in little towns on back roads when we can, finding our way through someone else’s place, through a community of ‘others’ – those in the know about local customs, local gems, local folklore. we are just passersby – soon to be on our way somewhere else.

but we have discovered some of our favorite spots this way. we’ve found places to which we must return some day, places with which we have connected, places that seem magically aligned with us.

discovery is like that. our steps take us past the familiar, into the unknown, the mysterious.

as i got down on my knees to photograph the trout lily forest, i imagined being tiny and walking amongst the lilies. like walking in a city of towering buildings, anonymous to most.

this trail – so familiar – each twist and turn, the spots where we know there will be standing water, the spots where the sun bathes the path, the places where the scent of pine is strong. we are lucky to know this place.

it is not likely that hikers after us will wonder about our footprints. they will be intent on the awakening forest and the swollen river, on their own silence, on their own talk–talk.

but we were there.

and – again – i realize we are each just one of the trout lilies in the woods, just as fragile, just as ephemeral, bowing to time.

*****

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the stars and us. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

there are moments when it takes some extra energy to get out from underneath a warm sherpa throw blanket. it was dark. we had eaten dinner. the olympics were on. dogga was sleeping on the rug. we were snugged under the blanket, warm and cozy, tired after a long week. i could tell that neither of us was necessarily motivated to get up and go out.

but we did.

and, for that – the tinygiant bit of effort it took to move the blanket, put on boots, grab our coats and hats and gloves and keys – i am grateful.

one of the local parks was having an event friday night – a candlelit self-guided trail hike – to celebrate valentine’s day. it is one of our favorite local trails through the woods and so we had reserved tickets ahead of time. only….in the way that actuallygoing gets in the way of lazingaround….we had to buck up and go.

like i said, grateful.

we’d reserved the latest time slot, thinking there might be less people on the trail that way. we needed quiet, to be surrounded by familiar trees – even in silhouette – the inky sky above, stars twinkling.

we hiked it twice. the first time there were just a few other groups. the second time we were absolutely alone.

it was exquisite.

with just simple luminaria bags here and there showing the trail, we hiked along in the dark on a path we know oh-so-well in daylight. we’ve hiked it also as the sun sets, lingering and finishing just before dark. but this time…

we spoke a bit as we walked, but mostly listened to the sound of our boots crunching on what remained of the snow. it was the perfect end to our day and our week, and the perfect backdrop to the conversation we were having about d’s 65th birthday the next day.

he asked me how i felt when i turned 65 and i shared the myriad of feelings i had as that had approached.

mostly, i told him, i felt like it was freeing. i felt like i no longer had giant expectations or convoluted ideas of what success was. i had a different measure of achievement. i felt like it was easier to understand presence, being right where one is. i felt like some things – things that don’t really matter – just slipped away, like a silk scarf.

and, the thing i really realized was that i was just like the stars above us on that trail that very night: just a bit of dust that got to be, that had the good fortune of life, of time present on this earth.

the candlelit trail was the sweetest way to spend friday night. nothing extravagant, just the woods and snow, the stars and us.

sooo worth getting out from under the blanket.

*****

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hi to you too. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

the rest of the subway car stared at us. we kept talking anyway.

back in the earlier days of my recording and performing – when a dear girlfriend and i used to travel together – we found ourselves all over the country, laughing. our escapades were hilarious – at least to us – and we readily shared our time on public transport with anyone nearby. we’d chat with the other people grasping onto the silver subway rings over the seats. we’d chat with the seat mate on the plane, once all holding hands together as the plane hit severe turbulence and – incredulously – even the flight attendants were weeping. we’d talk in the taxi, in the terminal, in the restroom. we seemed to be entirely capable of writing what-seemed a seinfeld episode everywhere we went. we were thoroughly entertained by – us – and it made all the travails of travel into adventure.

i’m a new yorker – a long islander – so talking – tawwwking – is not necessarily a problem for me. now i am a recovering interrupter (which i came by honestly) but back then…interrupting each other was part of the gig and it made us laugh even harder.

we’d step onto the subway – having gone through the turnstile with great aplomb or – more often – like something out of a cartoon – and immediately say “hi!” to whomever we encountered. sometimes people would answer as these were the very earliest days of cellphones so people were not staring into the palm of their hands. sometimes people would strike up a conversation – “you’re in town visiting, eh?” sometimes people would just stare. literally stare.

i carry these episodes with me even now. it is impossible for me to be on an elevator without saying anything; i simply cannot participate in the stare-at-the-slit-in-the-center-of-the-doors. or the up-stare at the numbers of the floor changing. “hi” just doesn’t seem to be a really challenging or aggressive kind of greeting. it just acknowledges that someone else – a person – is there. with you in the same space.

though i would not encourage the spray-painting of these boulders along the lakefront, the simple “hi” – in the middle of everything we are all reeling in, in the middle of this country – made me smile. an acknowledgment of someone else’s existence.

none of us are alone here. we’re in this together. we all count.

hi to you too, stranger.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this MERELY-A-THOUGHT MONDAY

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to feel it. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

the catalogs in the old mailbox in our bathroom are well-worn. i don’t keep every catalog that comes into the house, but there are a few that make their way into the old mailbox that used to grace the front of our house for years. stio is one of them.

i page through – dreaming of the places in this catalog. the phrases they use resonate with me.

“don’t just go somewhere, be somewhere.”

that – ^ – those very words are the reason i don’t take travel tours. you might question my position – it might be that you very much value group tours – buses or boats or what-have-you. and that is most definitely a way to see places.

but we have found that – for us – it is more important to immerse in a place than to pass through and check it off on some bucket list. if we merely pass through, we feel we have missed the real essence of the place. if we merely pass through, we have missed the scent of dawn, the color of dusk, the tempo of the streets and sounds of the overnight. we have missed the accents, the colloquialisms, the marketplace, the joy of sitting for long hours watching people interact – in a new place. we have missed the opportunity of absorbing something – some tiny little thing even – from the new, strange land that we might take back with us. we have missed connecting with its people. we have missed the beating heart.

and so, i agree with stio: don’t just go somewhere, be somewhere.

we try to take the time to be engaged, somewhat engrossed in places we go. true, it isn’t always possible, but we do make every attempt. it is what drives decisions about travel. our checklist is not just that – a checklist. it is the chance to viscerally see, taste, smell, hear, touch another place on this good earth, a chance to really feel it.

it is the reason why – for the four days we were in paris – that we walked everywhere, miles and miles all over the city. it is the reason we found our way to the market, skipping the fancy restaurants we passed on the way. it is the reason we bought baguettes and cheese, tiny salads, bottles of wine, fruit tarts from a patisserie. it is the reason we sat on cathedral steps or on benches by fountains in parks to dine. it is the reason my feet hurt and my heart was full.

it’s why we return time and again to breckenridge – to hike its trails, wander its streets, hang out and talk to the shopkeepers and the bartenders, shop its grocery store.

it’s why – once we have found a place and accommodations that truly speak to us, we will return again – to be a part of the community, to walk its sidewalks, shop its merchants, talk with its people, live – even for the tiniest bit of time – in its midst.

when we think of all the places we have traveled together, we recollect images that are multi-dimensional. we remember how it felt. we may not get everywhere we would like to go – and our checklist may be left with boxes to check – but we will have spent time in places we got to know and that got to know us, at least a little bit.

it is the reason why – in addition to seeking new – we choose to return – time and again – to the same trails we know. they have become part of us and we a part of them, a connection that makes us feel a certain awed responsibility toward their continued existence.

it is in the way that the mountains take my breath away – and make me weep – upon first sight, in the way that the ocean’s tide beckons me and pulls at my toes, in the way red rock makes me reach to run my hand along its sandstone shell.

it is this way i wish to see new places – with enough breath to be enthralled, enough freedom to sit quietly or run free, enough time there to walk and walk, to linger, and enough joie de vivre to forgo getting as many checkmarks in the “done” column as possible and instead embrace the getting-to-know-you – the savoring – of places in our world.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this MERELY-A-THOUGHT MONDAY

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nothing like it. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

it is a tough time to travel. at least for me. i feel – well – safer at home these days. tucked into our sweet old house doing our thing.

but we had an opportunity to visit old friends, see new things, experience a different landscape. and we were fortunate enough to be able to take it.

this place we have traveled to – beautiful. another part of this stunning sea to shining sea. we move about airports with thousands of people – all different – with languages and accents and clothing choices and faces all swimming around us. such diversity. we can feel the riches of this melting pot.

and we miss home. where our dogga waits for us and 20 has dinner hot. where our studios and our pillows are. where no make-up and sweats are a default. where we sous-chef and cook side by side in our old kitchen, nourishing not just our bodies but our souls as well.

it doesn’t take new eyes to see it all. but the gentle reminder is always a good thing.

to go and come back.

nothing like it.

“the real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes.” (marcel proust)

*****

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not bad. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

in an understatement of understatements, the words “not bad” on the sticker on the railing at this bryce canyon overlook made me laugh aloud.

for this was grandeur, indeed.

the expansive country in front of us – here at our very first overlook – rainbow point, the highest elevation of the stops.

the national park brochure describes it as poetry in stone and i would agree. it is a dynamic place, ever-changing, engaging beyond the pale. you cannot help your heart soaring, your pulse racing. it is every word and no words.

we were thrilled. to be there. to be there all together. to experience this inspiring place.

the brochure promised mesmerizing. the canyon land did not fall short.

we were completely awestruck by its magic.

yes, bryce, not bad.

*****

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this desert. (kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday)

 and so it started. surrounded by sagebrush and cactus, with the sun rising across this desert, unfamiliar land, we began our adventure.

we got up early to see it rise – knowing it would take some time to come up over the mesa. we held mugs of coffee in our hands, excited to begin exploring with our friends in this other part of the country.

and as we stood there – ever so patiently waiting for this new day, the juniper called to us – “go…have fun…be in this place…begin something new…we – the juniper, the sagebrush, the cactus, the red rock will hold you…start now.”

we skipped back to the airbnb house, mugs empty and hearts full.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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the thing of traveling. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

it is the thing of traveling, of exploring, of adventuring. it is the awakening. it is the learning.

no matter where we have traveled, we have been reminded of our intense smallness – our tiny in the vast. this time is no different.

there is no end to these reminders, these gentle prods of realness, of perspective.

and for that, we are intensely grateful.

*****

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smitten by home. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

“whatever a house is to the heart and body of man-refuge, comfort, luxury-surely it is as much or more to the spirit.” (mary oliver)

we’ll travel a bit soon. a trip that’s been semi-planned – and postponed – for some time. even before setting out, we know it will be great fun, adventuring with friends, moseying the country with them. there is a sweetness to anticipation.

and it’s funny. every time i get close to going away – anywhere – i have a distinct appreciation for our own home. there is something that rises up for me before a trip – a reminder of how really dear home is to me – our old house, our backyard, this amazing lake just a bit to our east, our dogga, our life here. we take walks in the days before leaving and mother earth does her very best at impressing us – a showcase of unparalleled beauty, a display of what’s-right-here.

and it’s no different this time.

even the unexpected worn-gasket-water-pipe-union spewing water into our basement cannot change this feeling. even d’s all-day wet vac duty, carpet that was soaked, stuff that needed to be moved out of the way, the unplanned cost of an expert plumber – even all that didn’t dim this appreciation of home.

we have traveled a lot together and i have become aware of how true it is that you carry home with you. we’ve taken home – together – overseas and all over our nation. this trip will be just the same – a great exploring – while holding home between us.

we are excited to go, to be fed by new places and new experiences, fodder for our muses, our spirits expanding with the time away.

and, at the same time, here i am – smitten by our own home, my spirit filled before we even leave.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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go away. come back home. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

by this time i am likely a little bit homesick.

no matter where i am there comes a point when this happens.

when i was little – and everyone else went to sleepaway camp – i tried it on for size. twice. the first time it was ok. we went to camp koinonia in upstate new york and i was with my best friend susan. we stayed in a screened-in cabin with bunkbeds and there’s not much else i remember, save for the lanyard-making. the second time it was another upstate sleepaway camp and, again, i was with my best friend susan. that time did not go well. it rained a lot that week and that contributed to my wistful homesickness. i remember kickball and crafts and i remember a bit of weeping. i didn’t try it again.

i guess – as much as i now love going away – traveling and adventure, immersing in new places – even my favorite places – i am also kind of a homebody. i miss our house, our routines, my feet on our old wood floors, our dogga.

paradoxically, i feel fortunate to have gotten away from home. we needed a little bitta time out of town, a little bitta time away from the usual stuff, a little bitta time near family, a little bitta time in the mountains.

i think even a short stint of time away interrupts us. it grants us fresh air. it pokes us to not take loving our home lightly. it stirs up the wish-we-were-closer proximity yearnings. it gives us fresh eyes to return to our routines and the projects and challenges on our plates. it makes coming home sweet.

i am really, really familiar with the view out the front door of our house. this tree has been there the entire three and a half decades i have now lived here. and i have seen the sky and the seasons change through the arc of its branches.

the trees next to the sidewalk on our road have been aging out. one by one we wake up or arrive home to the roar of heavy chainsaw sounds. it makes me worry about our tree. it would be tough to see that tree removed.

going away and exploring – meandering around – is good for the soul. it’s invigorating and can take you out of your comfort zone. it’s rejuvenating. it gives you space.

coming back home – after going away and exploring – is also good for the soul. it affirms the everyday, the mundane, everything you consider ordinary, the very-familiar. and it elevates appreciation of all of it.

*****

MEANDER from AS IT IS ©️ 2004 kerri sherwood

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