Long Obedience in the Same Direction

I love it when something I read causes me to pause and then go back to read it again so it sticks. This morning it was this:

Great achievements are so often the product of a series of small things regularly done well over an extended period of time. Or, as the late Christian pastor Eugene Peterson liked to say, it’s a “long obedience in the same direction.”

I plan to memorize that.

Laying Down Diamonds

It’s my favorite kind of day today. I call them Sparkly Water days.:) . Even though it’s really cold outside, the sun is shining and the sky is the prettiest shade of blue. There were five adult eagles and one juvenile fishing on the river in my backyard this morning. It’s still one of my favorite things about winter and about living here in this place. The lake just up the river from here is the largest winter roost of any urban area in New York state. That’s just so cool. There was an article in the paper a few days ago with a photograph of 46 eagles in a tree at the lake’s south end. I don’t even have to leave my home to enjoy the benefits of being on their fishing route.

There’s a flock of seagulls out there now, dipping and diving like it’s the middle of a warm summer’s day. Yesterday, a pair of swans, 3 blue jays and a cardinal joined in the fray. It’s odd, but it almost seems to me that they are enjoying this weather. Maybe it’s because all the people go away and hide in their homes and businesses and the world around them quiets, giving them free roam of their domain. Whatever the reason, it’s lovely to watch.

Someone once told me that the sun lays down diamonds for me on the water.

I am rich, indeed.


This morning I open the curtains to a wall of white. It isn’t snow… it is cold, frozen… if you can imagine it. There is a thin sliver of a moon hanging over my head and the colors pink and orange are vying to be the main attraction, in this winter show. Nothing, save the river - is moving. Even that is crawling with the heaviness that comes from temperatures that dip this low. I see a bird sitting still at the very top of the willow tree and I think… how? How can you stand it? The pink parachute of a cloud over his head, drifts slowly by as the sun illuminates the sky, the softest gold and blue. It looks like there’s a cloud hovering at midlevel and I am suspended in it. How grateful I am that this window to the outside world shields me in my warm little cocoon.

These are my thoughts on opening my eyes.

It’s a new day and I am still here. I will rejoice.


It’s been awhile… and I think I might like to separate words from photographs here sometimes. I suppose there are some things I still want to say without relying on photographs so much. I’ll let them drift onto this page when that happens. I will admit they’ve been fewer and farther between, these days… but they’re still inside me somewhere, wanting their way out. It’s true what they say, you know. Cracks are where the light gets out.

I seem to have trouble following through on all the thoughts that ramble from my head and heart onto a page. Maybe this year will be different. Maybe I’ll do more, or better, or less, or something? Or… maybe this is just me, in all of my vulnerable and imperfect glory. I don’t know. If you want to listen to me while I’m working that out, I’ll be writing in this space. If you want to see through the lens of my camera you’ll find that in the menu up top. Both will offer you a glimpse into the life of the person behind the art.

Today would have been my brother Cory’s 48th birthday. I miss him today, and every other day. I miss all my brothers… but that’s a story for another time and place. Not for today. Not in this place.