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I remember that evening in the small one room cabin, probably an old sugaring house in another life. A wood stove kept us warm. It was late winter.
Four, maybe six of us, tucked into the “living room”, communing with spirits that rose up in the stories and songs and laughter we shared deep into the night.
We were young, and locked in tight to “being here now”. Who knew the season would pass? Who knew there would be other, different ones, to follow? Who knew back then there was a future?
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Jeff Cox builds his wonderful 1985 book, Seasonal Celebrations, around the Chinese lunar-solar calendar, which divides the year into twenty four distinct periods. They begin with the Winter Solstice, and are then demarcated by the new or full moon, (or the equinoxes and remaining solstice). The names given to the periods are pure poetry; right now we are probably in The Period of Awakening of Creatures (Ching Che), which in 1986 ran from the full moon on Feb. 24 to the new moon on March 10.
I think of that book now, because it’s where I first found a reference to “the most delicate pastel pinks and blues” in the skies at dawn and dusk in the heart of winter. Skies like I had a couple of days ago when I took this photograph. He writes about it under The Period of the Greater Cold, (Ta Han), beginning on the new moon on January 10 to the full moon on January 26 (1986).
I’ve seen those pastels mostly in early March, maybe because I’m out more at that time of the year, the weather being warmer. As it was on this day, about 55 degrees when I took the picture.
Tomorrow, for comparison, I’ll be posting a smartphone picture of this same scene, taken at the same time of day.
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This photo was taken a year ago, but the fraying flag seems to have a different resonance now, given the political winds blowing through our homes and neighborhoods, all across the land.
If there’s any upside to the recent election results here, it’s that many of us are working out new paradigms for being a citizen – and a human being – in these challenging times. Digging deeper for inspiration and information,* and at the same time reaching for the longer view, if you will.
Unfortunately (spoiler alert), we’ve been here before. History is replete with profoundly difficult circumstances, no matter the time or culture.
Perhaps not altogether unrelated, I’ve found myself back in the 13th century with Genghis Khan and the beginnings of the Mongol Empire. It started rather innocuously;** my eye catching a new title on display in a local library, “Genghis Khan and the Quest for God” by Jack Weatherford, which explores the remarkable notion that Genghis Khan allowed freedom of worship to all those he conquered, AND that this approach to governance found its way to Europe and eventually the American colonies.
Then it was off to the races with the first three of Conn Iggulden’s five volume work of historical fiction on Genghis and his empire.
And finally the historian Frank McLynn’s amazing biography, Genghis Khan: His Conquests, His Empire and His Legacy, a remarkably detailed and sometimes overwhelming account of the man, with over 100 pages (!!!) of bibliography and footnotes and a wonderful photo of present day Mongolian horsemen by Rick Sammon worked onto the front cover.
Yes there is a rise and fall of civilizations, with remarkably similar stories. Explore any one and you’ll probably understand them all.
* The New Yorker has some suggestions here.
** Actually it started in high school; our athletic teams were nicknamed the “ Golden Horde”. I knew then it had something to do with the Mongols, but only recently understood the specifics: the Golden Horde was the name given to the successors of Genghis that ruled the northwestern most regions of the Mongol empire after his death.
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Two of the youngest participants in the Old Saybrook ‘Sister March’, which drew over 1000 people from the area on 1/21. These gals – Ella and Sophia – were the photo op stars of the event.
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The joint is jumping in the summer, but come the offseason, not so much.
Today I was talking about FL with a Tai Chi classmate (local Y, great class) who was telling stories of Key West: ” You have to bring another liver…”
It’s that time up here in New England when we start dreaming (and talking) about white sandy beaches and warm breezes (even though it was in the mid-50s a couple of days ago).
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A magnificent, gently curved cobblestone pavilion was built at this CT park in the 1930’s by the WPA. This view is from the tunnel beneath it, on a New Year’s Day with temps in the 40’s.
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One last image here for 2016 – one that’s been percolating for the past few days. Not so much a summation of the past year, but more about the way forward into the next.
It surprised me that after looking at all the images that I gravitated to this one: fiery, passionate, fierce, and decidedly not from the flowery old school. But then again, waging peace calls for every bit of talent, skill and discipline we can muster – separately as individuals and together as communities – day in and day out.
I want to thank Andrea and her family, who, like lighthouse keepers of yore, keep this flame burning bright, right there on a main road in Old Lyme. And a special thanks for lighting it up a little early for me tonight.
Happy New Year to all, and may 2017 bring you some pleasant surprises!!
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