Rising above again

I confess that I have trouble taking myself seriously as a photographer.

My body quakes whenever I venture from an automatic setting to manual.

Could it be all that camera terminology? I can’t help but wonder every time I pull out my instruction book.

Though more likely it’s my fear of technology.

Heck, I don’t even have a Smart Phone as I doubt I’ll ever figure out how to use it.

It seems I’ve missed ten tech upgrades during the last ten years while I was busy caregiving.

But I’m tenacious in my quest to keep trying, and to overcome those fears.

So Friday morning I was very anxious to capture the gulls flying overhead as I stood on a sandy beach.

It’s a special spot.

My mother-in-law and husband’s remains lie just beyond.

Moving in for the shot, I was ready to change my setting to manual until I suddenly found myself moving.

Sinking actually.

In what seemed like an instant, I was standing in a thick mix of sand and cool water rising above my ankles.

I quickly made my retreat.

Still I was able to snap one quick picture in transit.

I wasn’t leaving without it.

Maybe I’m a budding photographer after all.

Or more importantly, one now even more determined to rise above her photo fears.

Oh, and definitely any soggy sand bars.

Lets go crazy!

Yesterday Mother Nature stripped the lake clean, neatly folding up the last sheets of ice from winter.

This morning an assortment of sun worshipers suddenly assembled on the beach, each admiring the annual return of sparkling blue waters just beyond.

As our faces warmed, I noticed our smiles did as well.

Suddenly I found myself softly singing an old Prince tune, adding my own seasonal twist.

“Dearly beloved
We’re gathered here today
To celebrate this thing called ‘spring’.”

As a fellow Minnesotan, I think the royal highness would have honored our passion.

Turning to leave while the sun continued to rise, I shouted a quick “lets go crazy,” to the crowd.

And they did, each springing into a shiny motor boat, then speeding off into the distance.

All as happy as clams.

Journeys of Bliss

What most consider a vacation hasn’t been part of my vocabulary this year.

But no problem.

It was my choice.

I learned when you take retirement from one job on a Friday and start a new one the Monday after, you just have other priorities.

Especially when you’re moving into a new home as well.

Still, I know that a little relaxation is good for the soul.

So I figured if I’ve downsized my job and my house, can’t I do a mini-retreat?

Knowing I’d have a work break late yesterday morning, I grabbed my camera.

The early hours were predicted to be warm and beautiful.

And also full of light before the wind and clouds descended.

When the time was right, I made the short drive down to the beach.

Climbing out of the car, I studied two workmen as they prepared the weary docks for a long winter’s nap.

The local ice fishermen will be replacing them soon.

Then I traveled barefoot in the sand, stopping to chat to restaurant workers hanging Christmas lights, and preparing for their last patio lunch seatings.

Moving further west, I searched for the perfect place to rest.

A place to renew.

And close my tired eyes.

It didn’t take long.

Two sparkling chairs caught my attention in the distance.

The light surrounding them beckoned me over.

I grabbed one chair.

My dreams took the other.


Its always been my perfect destination.