Living, Photography

Swinging into Home

It’s true that you wake up one morning and suddenly realize you’re a different person.  In the midst of the transition, you’re usually at the bottom of some pit, miserable, whiny, and thinking the end will never be in sight.  But even when you’re able to say definitively that a change occurred, you still can’t pinpoint exactly when it did.  It just happened at some point and now things will forever be different.

view from the top

We put up a swing set in our backyard.  It was a grand neighborhood adventure.  We purchased it from a neighbor whose children had outgrown it, but who had kept it in fabulous condition.  He organized its transport to our yard, two houses over and one up.  I met a neighbor – and his much-appreciated motorcycle-turned-tree-house-trailer – that I never had before.  Two other neighbors brought their children to play and watch with mine while they helped the other men.  The seller and his son stayed on to help my husband finish assembling it while the kids called to them, saying hello and ‘can we go on it yet?’  Many hands make light work and I was so appreciative of their efforts and how happy they made my children.

After the excitement died down and just our three children swung and my husband and I surveyed the scene, I realized it.  I realized our life is forever altered.  We are different people here.

But in a totally positive, wide-open way.

We ask for and accept offers of help from our neighbors.  We relax on our porch and watch the trees blow in the breeze.  We have places to sit and read, whilst our children do some other activity nearby.  We have spots on the floor perfect for laying out vintage matchbox car tracks complete with loop-de-loops.  We have hooks for towels.  And room to swing around in the bathroom without smashing into some manner of porcelain.  There are dormers and transoms and skylights and fanlights.  There are angles and peaks, nooks and crannies.

Our entire perspective has changed.

The neighbor who sold us the swing set said it still feels like vacation even after living in his home for nearly two decades.  The light, airy feeling of vacation is nice, wonderful indeed.

But looking at that swing set to the profile of our home beside it, I realize this plot of land, this place and time we’ve landed in is a dream come true.  The realization of some nebulous idea I formed as a child.

Suddenly and unequivocally, this is home.  I can’t say exactly when it happened, but I can now say with certainty, we are home.

It never is a straight path ;-)

It never is a straight path 😉

Advertisement
Standard
Living, Photography

Moving Day

On the year anniversary of our moving day, the family traveled to two of the fall festivals we missed last year because we were schlepping boxes.  Maybe because I’m a glutton for punishment and need to pack as much into a day as humanly possible (well, inhumanly, but I always did have unrealistic expectations) or maybe because I felt like I had to make up for time lost last year, we visited a farm open-house of sorts to celebrate their yearly press of apples for cider and then a local park arts-and-crafts-music-storytelling-farmers’ market-hayride-proceeds-benefitting-the-community-garden extravaganza.  It was the quintessential New England fall day.  The leaves and fields and skies just opened up in a beautiful way.  In a way that they can nearly anywhere, I suppose, but which seems to be happening more since we’ve moved.

Gourd neighbors

Gourd neighbors

I half expected Wayne Carini to come walking up

I half expected Wayne Carini to come walking up

headon

Beautiful buggers

Beautiful buggers

maplsyrup

 

 

Standard
Living, Photography

Scenes from a Sun-kissed Morning

 

The days are warm enough, the nights cool enough that each morning my girls ask me if it’s rained. Caught in a ray of sunlight, the fog tricks you into thinking it’s misting, which it is, I suppose. The dew clings to every angular surface.

 

 

I feel like a studio photographer!

I feel like a studio photographer!

So delicate.  I love the texture of the buds and petals.

So delicate. I love the texture of the buds and petals.

 

hydrangea

Standard
Living, Photography

Scenes from a Secret Neighbor

Walking in a woodland wonderland . . .
I have woods! In my yard! And the woodland creatures that come with!

Quite a difference from our little suburban plot.

After a hurricane, a blizzard, the taking down of six trees, and the impending purchase of a wood stove, we’ve got lots of wood laying around. Lots to chop, split, stack, etc. In the meantime, the piles have become part of the landscape. So much so, that little friends have moved in. This little guy peeking out is going to be supremely pissed when we clear everything out!

Can you see me now?

Can you see me now?

Standard
Living, Photography

Seaside Scenes from September 17

As I walked onto the beach, the sand and sea elicited the same feeling in me that it did years ago on a shore many miles away.  The calm, the awe, the inspiration.  I could dig out the essay I’d written that day, but I dare say it’d be the same today (though hopefully a bit more linguistically advanced!).

Sometimes it’s nice when place and sense take us down a familiar path.

Block Island, full speed ahead.

Block Island, full speed ahead.

A ribbon of sea and sand

A ribbon of sea and sand

pink house

Rose hips and tide rips

Rose hips

 

 

Tides of rip . . .

Tides of rip . . .

Gifts from the sea

 

 

Standard