Send in your photos! *smiling*Sharla and Marcy
Hello All. Today will be an intense work day. I do have a couple of things this week that I am most looking forward to, besides work.
I am also looking forward to my guest blogger tomorrow: David Pereda. Stay tuned!
And! I am so proud of my friend Joyce O'Neil ...
BOONE – A fog-shrouded parkway vista by Waynesville photographer Joyce O'Neil has been selected as one of 47 finalists in the sixth annual Appalachian Mountain Photography Competition, co-sponsored by ASU Outdoor Programs, Virtual Blue Ridge, Mast General Store, Footsloggers, and other merchants. O'Neil's image was chosen from 918 international submissions. O'Neil's image, "Pounding Mill Overlook" was chosen as an outstanding here's the rest of the article and the image!
There's a lot of talent in these mountains.
I forgot - the other day on my book giveway question - Missy was first. She has a copy of Tender Graces to review, so Missy, let me know what you want me to do - send another copy of TG? Two other books? Email me!
I found this on our YOG -- right now I am in CHANGE; it's Good Change, but any change feels strange sometimes-- we can welcome it, or fight it,....so, I'll just leave you with the Yog Post:
Nothing remains static. The world turns with all our energies both expelled and absorbed from pre-beginning to after-end; we become a part of a greater energy. Everything is pulsating, a part of each other. So how could something so dynamic not change and morph? Even require it. There is The Good Change, and there is The Bad Change, and there are the changes that no one notices until one day they say, “Hey…wait…whatever happened to…” And there is that moment of bemusement, or maybe of loss for what wasn’t even missed until some fluke in the atmosphere caused a flick of the memory-wrist. And then there are the snapshots filed away in drawers, albums, and the parts of the brain made just for remembrance.
I have this snapshot shouting loud. It comes uncalled and unbidden, but it comes. It is winter, and the snow is falling, blanketing an already white-washed world. The backdrop is sepia-toned, shades of black and white with that tinge of old-timey photograph brown. I am dressed warm, and by my side are my husband and my two dogs. We’re on the Muse Trail, Level Two. I have my camera and I’ve set it to video and as I turn 360 degrees, I say, “Isn’t this lovely? Isn’t this the best life ever? Don’t you wish you were me?” My dogs, off their leashes, run in the snow, their paws kicking up sprays of snow and arcs of ice that hover for just a moment before falling back down to earth; some catch prisms—I know; I saw. The branches are laden with snow and some hang heavy, ready to smack a head and sent showers of cold upon them—I know; I was showered. We walk in the most perfect silence ever: you know the silence? The one that muffles footsteps, but makes bird calls ring so clear through the air that you hear it in perfect pitch. I have that snapshot because there have been changes come since that Perfect Day. Changes that make the memory one I am grateful for, even as I wish for all of it back, Human that I am. Yet, would the memory stand in such sharp gorgeous relief if the changes had not altered it beyond repair? No. I’d have taken it for granted, knowing I could have that feeling over and over again. That Perfect Day has become one I feel the most profound sense of gratitude for—I know; I was there before the change.
I have this snapshot shouting loud. It comes uncalled and unbidden, but it comes. It is winter, and the snow is falling, blanketing an already white-washed world. The backdrop is sepia-toned, shades of black and white with that tinge of old-timey photograph brown. I am dressed warm, and by my side are my husband and my two dogs. We’re on the Muse Trail, Level Two. I have my camera and I’ve set it to video and as I turn 360 degrees, I say, “Isn’t this lovely? Isn’t this the best life ever? Don’t you wish you were me?” My dogs, off their leashes, run in the snow, their paws kicking up sprays of snow and arcs of ice that hover for just a moment before falling back down to earth; some catch prisms—I know; I saw. The branches are laden with snow and some hang heavy, ready to smack a head and sent showers of cold upon them—I know; I was showered. We walk in the most perfect silence ever: you know the silence? The one that muffles footsteps, but makes bird calls ring so clear through the air that you hear it in perfect pitch. I have that snapshot because there have been changes come since that Perfect Day. Changes that make the memory one I am grateful for, even as I wish for all of it back, Human that I am. Yet, would the memory stand in such sharp gorgeous relief if the changes had not altered it beyond repair? No. I’d have taken it for granted, knowing I could have that feeling over and over again. That Perfect Day has become one I feel the most profound sense of gratitude for—I know; I was there before the change.
9 comments:
Scared me! Whew! Pulling up your blog and getting eyeball to eyeball with myself! LOL.
Already told you this, but I'm all up in that book. I'm trying to figure out where I'm going to fit it in tonight. Yes, I'm planning my evening chores around it.
I think you really need to get hopping on VK2 because there will be withdrawals.
The YOG post is beautiful, Kathryn. What a nice thing to read on a Monday morning!
What other book(s) would you have to send to me since I already have TG? Anything would be fine, really. I'm not picky! :)
And a fabulous, working Monday to you Kat. I hope you are being very productive:)
Kat - did you get the 2 pix I attached to me e-mail recently? Just checking.
Great post! Wonderful start to a Monday morning. Thanks Kat!
I'm sending my picture of me reading your book AFTER my haircut on Thursday:)) lol
Have a good Monday, but try not to forget to have a little bit of fun with all that hard work!!
Nice article. Keep up the writing. :-) Sounds like you've whet some appetites. :-)
Take time to smell the cawfee, ya hear? :)
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