In the Grotto Iona - a moment of peace

It is true that I am not Catholic nor any longer a follower of any religion, but during yesterday's coffee break I stopped at the Grotto Iona, built by the Mahoney's both as a place to bury their dead and as a place of prayer, open to all who seek solace. I did not pray, but I did find a feeling of peace there. I will take peace wherever I fan find it, and for however long I can hold it.

Here, you will find a larger slide of the image.

The young writer, Shoshauna, Study #4; a shot of Tequila on a cold day; Mary in the Grotto - five studies; he walks his pet scorpion

The young writer, Shoshauna, Study #4: On this day, I had to buy my own coffee. That's okay - everybody should buy their own coffee now and then. I would have bought a cinnamon roll, too, but other customers had already eaten the entire day's supply.

I did not want any of the other available pastries, so Shoshauna retrieved a basket full of biscotti and then sorted through them, telling me what kinds they were. I settled on cranberry with a white chocolate frost.

I think that I enjoyed it as much as if it had been a cinnamon roll.

Sometimes, one's day gets out of order. I actually encountered this dog earlier, before I drove up to the Metro Window. It is Tequilla, and she is trying to frighten me, even though she knows I know her better than that.

As this was the first picture that I took of the day, I was going to put it at the top of the post, but then I decided that I would rather have the image of Shoshauna greet my readers than this one of Tequila.

After I left Shoshauna and Metro behind, I drove off sipping the coffee and crunching the biscotti and soon found myself passing by Grotto Iona. It had been a long time since I had actually stopped and gone into the grotto, but on this day I felt that I should stop and go inside. So I did.

There was very little daylight left. I pushed my ISO to 6400 and then underexposed by at least a full stop and then lightened it up a bit in Lightroom/Photoshop.

Thus we have:

Mary in the Grotto - Study # 1

Mary in the Grotto - Study # 2

Mary in the Grotto - Study # 3

Mary in the Grotto - Study # 4

Mary in the Grotto - Study # 5

And this one from India:

One day, while walking through an ancient site the name of which slips me at the moment, Melanie, Vasanthi, Murthy, Buddy and I came upon this fellow who was out on a morning walk with his pet scorpion.

As this is the first time that I have ever pulled it out of my India take, I never showed this picture to Sandy or told her of it, so I cannot say for certain how she would have reacted, but I think I know.

As far as I could tell, Sandy loved all creatures. She found cobras to be cute, she gently held praying mantises in her hand and would bring her blurry little camera close to even bugs of a sort that many might find horrid and repulsive and would take the sweetest, most heart-felt photo imaginable.

I believe that if I could show her this picture, she would adore the scorpion. "Chooo'weet!" she would say - "chooo'weet" being a word that she also used many times to decribe puppies and kittens and Kalib and Jobe, who she never met but loved through my photographs. If anything about this picture bothered her at all it would have been the way that the string had been tied to the scorpion's stinger.

Now, when I made it a project to drop in random shots from India on a somewhat regular basis, I stated that I would do so without direct reference to Sandy, but that the photos themselves would be silent evidence that I was thinking of her.

And now I find I keep dropping the pictures in and writing about her, anyway.

After this one, though, I am going to try to go back to my original plan. I will let future photos stand in silent memorial.

View as slides

Three studies of the young writer, Shoshauna; two studies of the aging photographer/author whose blog just won an award / two sisters

The recent great drama for the moon, of course, was the total eclipse that overtook it just as winter solstice began. Even after the drama, the moon would linger, in full, throughout the solstice.

As all who frequent this blog know, I am a person who must get out into the open air and do something every day - walk, ride my bike, cross-country ski (at least before I shattered my shoulder and I hope very soon again) but lately I haven't.

Until yesterday afternoon, I had not taken a single walk since I last strolled across the lagoon in Barrow almost two weeks ago. I just have not been able to make myself do it and I have been atrophying. Yesterday, I decided that I must break through this and so I went walking.

As I walked, I could not help but think that this winter solstice day marked one month from the morning that I received the news that Anil had been killed in a car crash.

And today, this day, when I sit here writing, marks one month since I got the news that Sandy had followed her husband.

One month, yet I feel ten years older than I did when I awoke November 21.

I have been resisting the idea of old age - it has been my theory that old age is concept that applies to other people, but not me - that no matter how many years I accumulate, I will remain a young man.

Right now, it doesn't feel that way anymore.

Still, I intend to fight it.

Late last night, I also learned that this little blog of mine had been voted in as the Best Photography Blog of 2010 in the Blogger's Choice Awards.* For this, I would like to thank all of you who have cast votes on my behalf. And thank you, smahoney, for nominating my work in the first place.

I feel great sorrow that I cannot share this news with Sandy. I will share the news with her, and I will feel that she knows, but I won't know this for certain.

Or maybe I will.

Even when you feel something in certainty, it is hard to know for certain.

After I learned that I had won this award, I went into the house and told Margie. She did something she does not often spontaneously do that much anymore. She spontaneously reached up, put her arms around my neck, lifted her face to mine and kissed me right on the lips.

"That's wonderful," she said. "I'm not surprised. Well, I am surprised. But I'm not surprised."

It was a nice moment.

This woman has gone through so much, sacrificed so much, including anything even resembling security as old age approaches, just so I could follow my dreams and be a photographer/writer in Alaska - wandering here, wandering there, never working for money but always for love, sometimes bringing in a sudden flush of money but most of the time accomplishing quite the opposite.

Thank you, Margie.

Even before my walk ended, I started the car with the remote from about 100 yards away. I then poked my head into the house and told Margie that I was headed to Metro Cafe. OK, she said.

So here I am, pulling up to the drive-through line at Metro Cafe.

As I saw the people inside, I remembered the words from Cheers that Ice Road Truck Driver and India's Most Dangerous Road driver Lisa Kelly employed to tell CNN why she likes to go to Metro Cafe.

"Sometimes you just want to go to where everybody knows your name."

I don't think that everybody who was inside Metro Cafe on this day knows my name. 

But Shoshauna does. Shoshauna knows my name. And she had a smile on her face as I approached.

When I got to the window, Shoshauna informed me that, once again, an anonymous person had bought my coffee and my cinnamon roll. I have an idea who this anonymous person might be - in fact, I think there might be more than one anonymous person.

Whether I am right or wrong, I appreciate it.

Study # 3: Shoshauna, the young writer, preparing my coffee.

I was still sipping that coffee when I drove across the Little Su. I had finished the cinnamon roll.

I turned around at Grotto Iona, A Place of Prayer, and headed back towards home.

Along the way, I saw this car.

And this from India - Two Sisters:

Actually, I do not know that they are sisters. They may have been cousins, aunt and niece, teacher and student, mentor and apprentice - or just friends.

I know nothing about them, other than what you can see in this picture. I took it in a flash of a moment through the window of a taxi, hired by Murthy and Vasanthi, to take Melanie and me touring about southern India with them - and with Buddy.

I cannot even tell you what village we were passing through. It was one of countless.

*Two other Alaska-related blogs won Blogger's Choice Awards: Palingates, for Best Political Blog and conservatives4palin for Worst Blog of All Time. Congratulations to the both of you.

View images as slide show

One image from breakfast, three from coffee break: the resolute couple; Metro portrait; Mahoney Ranch; hitch-hiking to the State Fair

This morning, I was wise. I cooked oatmeal and ate it. But these images are from yesterday and yesterday I was foolish and did what I wanted - I got up, dressed, said good-bye to the cats and headed over to Mat-Su Valley Family Restaurant for breakfast.

As I sipped coffee and waited for my ham and eggs, this couple left the restaurant and then walked by my window, resolute to the face the day.

Somehow, the day is a little easier to face after a breakfast at Family.

Sure, today I had oatmeal and that was the right thing to do, both in terms of my economy and health.

But how am I ever going to face this day?

At the usual time, 4:00 PM, as All Things Considered came on the radio, I headed to Metro Cafe for my afternoon coffee break. It had been awhile since I had shot a Through the Metro Window study, so I shot this one:

Through the Metro Window Study, #444: Carmen, Lily, Willow and Nola.

Again, I took the long way home, the route that goes by Grotto Iona and the Mahoney Ranch. Tim Mahoney was out pitching hay. I was going to shoot the picture in the usual way, from the car as I drove on by without stopping, but I suddenly decided to stop, get out of the car, shoot a couple of frames and chat a bit.

So that's what I did. Among the stories Tim told me about was how he had once been out near Council, when he looked up the embankment that rose over him and saw a big musk-ox standing above him and above the musk ox, a red falcon observing.

As I doubled back down Church towards home, I saw this young couple hitch-hiking. I used to pick up hitch-hikers all the time, but quit because too many bad things happened to others who did. But, somehow, I knew this couple would do me no harm, so I picked them up.

They had badly overslept but were up now, headed to the State Fair in Palmer. So I drove past the turn to my house, took them two-and-a-half more miles to the Parks Highway and dropped them off there, where there would much more traffic coming by than on Church Road.

I do have my Era Aviation ticket now and I fly north early tomorrow morning.

It could be awhile before I blog again, but I can't say for sure, so please check back, anyway.

View images as slide show

Pictures will appear larger and look better

On their way to the grotto to pray; Rowdy and Oscar; an iPhone look back at New York - young couple on subway, man down on sidewalk

I had stopped to visit Ron Mancil when Patrick Mahoney, owner of the ranch where Ron works, came out from the back on his motorcycle with Mary Angela Wassillie, who lives near Metro Cafe. Mary's mother was ill and in the hospital. "We're on our way to the grotto to pray," Patrick told me.

I pulled out onto the road and they pulled out behind me.

I drove at turtle speed, so that I could take this snap as they passed me.

They then turned off into the grotto - Grotto Iona - to make their prayers. I thought about stopping, too, to visit a little more there, perhaps take a few more pictures. As I related last summer, on that day that I pedaled my bike past the topless lady and then wound up on my knees before the graves of Patrick's parents, I have given myself the assignment to learn about this grotto and the couple who built it and now lie in it.

But I had just met Patrick and Mary. So I drove on and left them to pray alone. There will be time in the future. 

That was two weeks ago, this is yesterday:

I had gone to town for a business meeting and on my way back, I pulled off in Eagle River. Charlie's mom had sent me a Facebook message, asking me to stop sometime when I was passing by. So I stopped in the parking lot by Jitter's coffee shop to call and find out where Jim and Cyndy lived.

As I called, this old car and this young man riding a bike passed by in front of me.

This is Rowdy, ten years old, and those are the hands of Cyndy, Charlie's mom. Rowdy literally smiled at me when we were introduced. I am not kidding. It was a genuine smile. He smiled a few more times and I got my camera out and tried to photograph it, but Rowdy is not named Rowdy for nothing.

He was continually in motion and then he apparently decided that we had known each other long enough and now he didn't need to smile all the time.

So now I have another assignment - to catch Rowdy's smile.

And this is Oscar, their sixteen-year old cat. Not so long ago, Oscar was down to skin and bones and the pigment was gone from his nose. Cyndy and Jim believe it is the homemade food that they began feeding him that has restored him.

That is why they asked me to stop by - Jim had made another batch of food for Royce.

Three leftover iPhone images from New York:

This is from what was supposed to be my final night, before I got stranded at JFK. I had just left Chie Sakakibara and my camera battery was dead. I could not resist this couple riding the subway with me, however, so I used my iPhone.

After the couple got up, these people sat down where they had been.

When I came up the stairs that lead from the subway to the street, I found this scene. I was not exactly certain what was happening nor how I should react. I asked if everything was okay. The man who has a grip on the wrist of the one down on sidewalk said it was. He gave me the impression that he was a police officer, said that he had everything under control. He did not try to stop me from taking a picture, which I figured that someone who was up to no good would do.

I walked away. But now I wonder - what if he was not a cop?

Maybe I should have called 911.