I've returned to the west coast to bid adieu to the family house and help my mother move to a new home.
I can't lie--I will miss this view.
Boats in the late afternoon
Time to set sail for new horizons and leave the past behind.
One way or another!
This is one of those times
I wished I had a powerful telephoto lens!
I wished I had a powerful telephoto lens!
I call this picture "Dude on Board"
Things are a bit at sea these days, and the waters are only going to get rougher as Moving Day on August 30 floats closer into view. But I'm getting out for daily walks and gathering neighbourhood pictures that I hope to have time to share in Blogland...though maybe not until I'm back on the opposite shore of this land.
Just drifting along and trying to go with the flow and hoping not to be swept away by it all.
o
o
o
o
o
o
(glub glub glub)
Moving on. Sometimes goodbyes are a relief when the scene in the rearview mirror is a place which had ceased to be welcoming. Sometimes, however, there is a reluctance to let go when there is still a connection and a possibility of continued good times.
ReplyDeleteOn the balance, I think that a farewell to that which was positive and now will be a pleasant memory is preferable to that which was not and now never will be.
I wish you and your mother a pleasant move and a next stage of well deserved happiness.
DCW,
DeleteWhat choice does one ever have, really, but to move on. Best to pack up the fond memories and leave the more unpleasant behind. Thanks for your best wishes. Will pass them along to my mum.
Wishing Memories remain, of living with a view like, enough to carry Your mom and you on. It must have been quite an experience watching life go by from that vantage point. Hope the move goes well.
ReplyDeleteGwen,
DeleteI could well say the same thing to you, about watching life go by from that spectacular vantage point that you had up on the cliff overlooking the Fundy Bay. I think you know quite a lot about letting go and moving on.
I did love leaning out my bedroom window in the middle of the night when I was young, enjoying the darkened shapes and seeing the lights of a freighter or two "parked" out on the water. Truth to tell, though, there used to be a cedar tree in the yard that eventually grew to be so gigantic that it completely obscured the view. But it was fun to watch the little birds feeding on the cedar "seeds." The tree was cut down; the million dollar view returned.
Wishing you well on your new journey...moving forward is a difficult task but it is a refining process that will create more beautiful art...and more beautiful memories.
ReplyDeleteDanielle,
DeleteA beautiful description of moving on, "a refining process." Thank you for this perspective.
Coraggio, Lynne! I'm so glad you shared those views from your house this winter, and again now. So full of beauty. Of course you feel a little at sea, like your dude on board (so funny!!!), but he does seem to have a little helmet for protection, and a little paddle, with which to move forward...
ReplyDeletejann,
DeleteI shall don my invisible (invincible?) helmet, grab my poling stick, gird my loins (perhaps a little more modestly than the dude pictured) and get on board with the moving program!
I feel the pang of sadness, losing your "view", especially "window sitting" at night! I do that too, being absorbed by the night. Although I don't have the spectacular view. But as you say - "what choice does one have but to move on" - even if we aren't going anywhere. Life always seems to be about "moving on", endings and new beginnings, expanding horizons, seeing with new eyes, seeing through new windows - on all levels. Transitions are always challenging whether chosen or by design... May the transition go well for both of you. And may I offer a Heart Hug... :)
ReplyDeleteMystic,
DeleteYes, I had read with interest about your "window sitting" habit. There is something so serene about fitting one's attention through that framework. Safe within, yet travelling beyond. I like what you say about "seeing through new windows." A lovely way to look at things! I accept with great gratitude your warm heart hug.
xo
What an adventure. Wishing you everything thinkable good. Before moving to Greece, I used to take more books with me than clothes, putting them in every available pocket, which made me a funny sight at the airport, as I filled the jeans and jacket wearing with them as well.
ReplyDeletePlease have you all a wonderful weekend.
Robert,
Deleteyes, an adventure, indeed. Especially for my mother who has lived in this house since 1964. I love that image of you with all your pockets filled with books! What a lumpy looking fellow you must have been. I think you would be looked at very closely by airport security these days! I moved all my possessions (including books) from the west coast to the east coast through the mail system more than once, but it would be impossibly costly to do so now. Besides, I have a lot more stuff.
Wishing you a movingly beautiful weekend!
Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily...
ReplyDeleteHoping the nostalgia of packing up trunks and trucks full of memories is not too overwhelming.
Man standing on board paddling peacefully seems a fine way to enjoy the bay... maybe that's how Jesus made people think he was walking on water ?
Owen,
DeleteI must get my ears checked...I seem to be hearing an echo all over the place these days about merrily merrily and dreams and so on. Row row row your board, gently down the strait.
Well, imagine hearing Jesus' walking on water debunked right here in my blog's comment box! I can see a new church forming around the concept: The Latter Day Church of Christ the Water Boarder.
Speaking of trunks, one of these nights (cue the Eagles) I've got to go through every letter I ever wrote to my mother since I first left home.
merrily merrily merrily ?
lovely light in these very scenic shots....
ReplyDeleteCatherine,
DeleteYes, a soft golden hint to the sky from the late afternoon sun.
One thing at a time,,,
ReplyDeleteMichael,
DeleteUnlike collaging when I can have several pages of organization going on at once. But yes, staying focused on the moment, dealing with one box, one memory at a time is a good approach. In fact, box up the memories and deal with them later. Pass me the tape gun, would you, please?
Merrily row, merrily row, dreaming is but a life...
ReplyDeleteAnonymous,
DeleteDreamily, dreamily, dreamily, dreamily...
row row row your life...
Life is but a dream boat
I've moved around quite a bit, thinking myself pretty unsentimental about it all. New adventures and all that. But, just today, I found myself on the web, googling the price of condos at the Jersey shore, where I spent my summer vacations when a little kid. (And yes, it is a lot like how it is depicted in movies and TV). Anyway, I digress. Your Mom is so lucky to have you there to help her thru this transition, which I'm sure is pretty huge for her. I hope you are both doing well and the move goes smoothly. The part of your reply to Owen's comment about your Mother having every letter you wrote since leaving home, well my eyes just welled up with tears...
ReplyDeleteStickup,
DeleteI moved around a lot when I was young. Even within the same city I'd often change apartments. Leases didn't exist. It's funny how when a person is young the urge is to move away from what one has known as home; but at some point in life there seems to be a longing to return to one's roots, or at least be able to touch them again. I don't honestly know what the Jersey shore is like, but I can imagine its emotional undertow for you.
You're right, my mother is relieved to have moral and physical support around her now. My sister arrived last night and Pierre's flying in tomorrow to help. It is a huge step for my mum in so many ways and she's coming through with flying colours.
I'm interested to read those letters she kept, to see how much I've forgotten and to try to read between the lines.
It must be sad for you and yours to have to say goodbye to this home.. this beautiful space. But life changes and of course we either change along with it or get left behind. Your mother will adjust and I'm sure find happiness in her new space. Hopefully before too long, she will find that it fits her like a glub. ;)
ReplyDeleteHilary,
DeleteIndeed, a situation that must be handled with kid glubs.
That is a very beautiful view from your family home, I can imagine it must be hard to say goodbye to it. Moving can be such a nightmare, hope this move goes smoothly for you.
ReplyDeleteGillian,
DeleteThe move went surprisingly smoothly and all the dust has settled. Just the emotions that are still in need of a little tidying and rearranging.
Louciao, I'm sorry you're leaving this view behind--it's such a lovely one! But I'm certain you'll find one just as lovely in your new place and I for one can't wait to see photographs of your new window view! :)
ReplyDeleteBella,
DeleteMy mother's new vista now involves an ongoing parade of dog walkers, so that keeps us amused. The water view had to be sacrificed for more mundane conveniences and comforts. I plan to put together a little book of photos that I took from my old bedroom window so the view will live on for us.
Beautiful photographs, I like to admire such unusual views. I am greeting
ReplyDelete