Seeing the Unseen...

       

Everyone sees the unseen in proportion

to the clarity of their hearts.

- Rumi

   I am asked countless times, "How do you see what you see?"  After all, we all have the same eyes, we can stand on the same spot in the landscape and yet, we all see things differently.  I've thought a great deal about this idea, the idea of perspective, because it all comes down to that in the end.

   We are confronted everyday with an overwhelming and, at times, over loaded range of visual imagery.  When you go out with your camera you have literally millions of choices.  Why do some people "see", or choose to frame, certain parts and not others?  Rumi suggests it is a "heart thing".

   I also see it as a "why thing"...why are you making the photograph in the first place?  Is it merely to record a place and time...freezing it for you to savor later on?   Or are your responding to the whispers of the landscape?  Is seeing more a function of hearing?  That is the basis of all my visual listening exercises.

   Perspective is also dependent on circumstance.  What is happening "out there" effects what can go on "in here".  Mood shapes perspective in sometimes alarming ways.  

...what we see is what we are.

-Ernst Haas

   So I suppose we come back to the Rumi quotation I began with.  What I see, my ability to see the unseen, is totally dependent on who I am at that moment in time.  Tomorrow I will see something totally different and that is a wonderful thing.  That's why I can go back day after day to the pond, even stand in the exact same place, and see a whole different reality.  That is the essence of seeing for me, to bring new eyes and an open and receptive heart to the experience each time...

Seeking the Stones...

   Henry David Thoreau wrote in his journal on September 23, 1858 of Dogtown,

It's "hills strewn with boulders, as if they had rained down, on every side..."

    That is a very apt description of this wilderness area...everywhere there are stones of immense size scattered randomly through the landscape. This is what we had come to see.

    Seventy three years after Thoreau's visit, Marsden Hartley came and painted those same rocks, fascinated by their form and intensity of presence.  Just three years after Hartley's work in Dogtown, another man came to leave his mark, quite literally, on the self same stones.

     Roger W. Babson hired out-of-work stonemasons during the 1930's to carve many of Dogtown's largest boulders with mottoes.  After visiting the site of the now broken Whale Jaw formation, we set out to locate some of these motto stones.  It wouldn't be as easy as we had thought.

  I'd left our map in the car.  It wasn't that good anyway but it may have helped us avoid a two hour hike that took us up and down hills, along the railroad tracks and right back to where we had begun with no sighting of the famous boulders.  We were hot, sweaty and discouraged.

   On our way back to the road and our cars, we tried one more turning and there, just a few hundred feet off the trail we had hiked in on two hours before, were three of the stones! 

   Perhaps Mr. Babson was having a bit of fun with us or, more likely, we were able to see the lovely landscape above, along with many other sites just because we got "lost". 

   I've often said that some of the best things I've seen in my travels were discovered when I'd gotten side-tracked from my original destination...today was no different. 

   We were only able to see three of the twenty four Babson Boulders and vowed to return in cooler weather to see the others.  If you would like to see what they look like, you can visit the link below but if you are able, make your own trip to Dogtown.  You might want to bring along a map or just let your internal GPS lead you along, either way, you won't be disappointed.

The Babson Boulders

 

Returning to Dogtown...

...as with sacred places, so with the murderous spots. The record of events is written into the earth.

  - Henry Miller

The Colossus of Maroussi

   The last time I was in Dogtown, on Cape Ann in Massachusetts, was in 1974.  I was a freshman at university and my photography teacher had taken us on a field trip that autumn to walk the wilderness trails of Dogtown.  It was the first landscape I had been in that had a powerful energy and sense of place.  Forty years later, it is the kind of landscape that I fervently seek out.

   I really hadn't thought of it for decades until a serendipitous occurrence brought it flooding back. I'd asked a friend to give me any unwanted magazines for my SoulCollage® work. One of the ones she gave me was a copy of the Cape Ann magazine which featured an article on Dogtown.  That's all I needed.

   I knew she and her husband had lived on Cape Ann before coming to Maine so I asked them if they would like to visit the famous, or perhaps infamous would be a better description, landscape.  They said their friends, the ones who had given them the magazine in the first place, would welcome us to stay with them so we were all set.

 

   The area is about 3,600 acre's so we knew we couldn't see it all on our brief visit so we chose two parts.  The first was a walk to the Whales' Jaw formation...one of the ones I had visited forty years before on my field trip.  It had, sadly, been inadvertently destroyed by some people building a fire under the big stone, heating it up to such a degree that it cracked and broke away.  Now it is a sorry sight, covered in even more graffiti and surrounded by cast away beer cans, not an auspicious start to our outing.

   I wish I still had my photographs from that field trip in 1974 but they too, like the whale jaw, have disappeared.  It was time to make new memories, as well as new photographs, so we didn't tarry very long at the broken jaw.  

An old photograph of the Whale's Jaw.

   Dogtown is a mysterious and haunted location, one that you are advised not to hike in alone  It was the location of a horrific tragedy just ten years after my visit which has added to it's tarnished reputation.

   A fascinating book, Death and Enchantment in a New England Ghost Town: Dogtown, written by Elyssa East, will give you the complete story. In my next post I will tell you about my own minor adventure in this fascinating place. I had returned to Dogtown by a series of interesting coincidences which simply said to me that I was meant to return.

  

A Trek to St. Columba's Bay on Iona...

   It was an arduous trek, out to St. Columba's Bay on Iona, but I was bound and determined to make it. I was still not feeling 100% but I wasn't going to let that stop me.  I had to do the ritual I had read so much about.  After all, part of this pilgrimage was to let go of past hurt and anger and this ritual does just that. It was a threshold I was eager to cross.

   Legend has it that this is the spot where Columba first set foot on Iona with his twelve monks on the day of Pentecost,563.  Port a'Churaich (the harbor of the curragh) is steeped in legend.   The colorful stones reminded me of the stone beach on Campobello I visited last September...another beach of metaphors.

 I gathered two stones, the grey on with the two white rings was my wishing stone.  The small green one is called St. Columba's "tears" and is much sought after.  It is the green Iona marble that sailors on the island carry in their pockets for good luck.

   After focusing all my thoughts on things I wanted to be released from, I threw the grey stone as far out into the sea as I could.  The green one will travel home with me.  I could use a little good luck right now!

Labyrinth at St. Columba's Bay

   I found a wild goose feather on the island the day before my trek to St. Columba's Bay.  The wild goose is a symbol of the holy spirit here on Iona and I couldn't help but think about St. Hildegard's admonition to travel like a feather on the breath of God.  I found a feather at Campobello too...a lovely connection.  Weary as I was from the trek to the bay, I felt a lightening of the heart as well.  It seemed I passed into a new way of being if only temporarily.  That is what these rituals are meant to do.  They give us a physical acknowledgement, an acting out of an intention.

   One thing I decided to do here on Iona was to write a note to myself and mail it off so it will be there when I arrive home.  I wanted to remind myself of the serenity I found on this island.  I plan to do this a couple of more times before I head back to the states on June 8.

Contemplative Souvenirs from Iona...

   I have no desire for Abbey refrigerator magnets or tea cozies shaped like sheep but I did want a souvenir of both my time on Iona and for this pilgrimage in general.  I found them in a lovely silversmith shop across from my hotel.

   There is a long tradition of silver smithing here on Iona. A young woman as taken up the craft.  She makes lovely contemporary pieces and showcases other artist's work, like the ring I got.

   It is in two parts and depicts the elevation of the island as you sail around it.  I loved how it symbolically denotes the "thin place" between heaven and earth...sometimes pulling apart, sometimes coming together. I couldn't have designed a better souvenir!


   The second souvenir I chose is called "The Wee Moon".  She is making it for me and will send it to my home in Maine in June but this is an example from the shop. It will depict the exact phase of the moon on my 65th birthday. It will actually be opposite this example.  The day of my birthday, the moon was just off full with just a sliver of dark along one edge.  She will inscribe the event on the back. 

   You can see her work online here.  Aosdana means people of the art, craft or gift.  I'm giving her shop a little plug because I was so taken by her work.

   Finding handmade pieces that reflect the meaning of your journey is what makes for a contemplative souvenir.  Next time you travel, look for something that is a memento you will look at and remember.  An object that will forge a connection to your experience. Photographs are, of course, lovely souvenirs but an object, hand-made by a local artist, is also something to cherish.

Fingal's Cave on Staffa...

   An Uamh Binn (Musical Cave) or, as it is more commonly known, Fingal's Cave, has enthralled and inspired travelers for hundreds of years.  Staffa is an hour's boat trip from Iona and well worth the time.

   Compared to this what are the cathedrals and palaces built by men! Mere models or playthings, imitations as his works will always be compared to those of nature.

 - Joseph Banks, 1772

   As I wrote in yesterday's post, life is a series of choices. When I arrived I had to choose between seeing the puffins and the cave. I chose the cave. I can see puffins off the coast of Maine.

   I was enchanted by the seals I saw on the way to the caves so I was quite content with my choice.  I was lucky to have the cave to myself and the acoustics were amazing. The sound of the sea was truly magical. You could almost feel the pull of the energy within the cave as the sea breathed in and out.

  It so inspired Felix Mendelssohn that he wrote the Hebrides overture (Fingal's Cave) after his visit to the island in 1829.  You can listen to the overture here.   After being in the cave, I can see the influence of it when I listened again to the music.

   I felt a real connection between the abbey and this cave...one sculpted by the hand of man, one by the hand of God.  Both are awe inspiring to say the least...both sacred spaces.

Details from Iona Abbey Cloister: Meditations in Stone...

Agony of the Soul

Receiving the Cup

Breaking the Bread

Descent of the Dove

   These carvings are 20th century interpretations of Medieval iconography.  Most of the capitals in the cloisters are also new interpretations.  I like the way the restorers didn't try to duplicate ancient work opting instead for a fresh contemporary approach.  What one takes away from viewing these meditations in stone is up to the individual.

   I've walked around and around the cloisters.  It is,in a way, a form of walking meditation as are labyrinths. You can glimpse the sky and the grass but you are on the edge...in a boundary place between the sacred and natural world.  Walking on the edge, you glimpse two ways of being, in light and in shadow, and you move seamlessly between the two.

Descent of the Spirit

   This is why I love islands.  You are surrounded by a border.  You are contained while being able to look at the "other world".  There is a sense of detachment and, yes, isolation on an island but the isolation is really an illusion.  With the internet you are not really unconnected...both a good thing and a bad thing.  There is a small primary school on the island and the island population has increased in recent years...always a good sign.

   Iona is a very special place and the residents have tried very hard to not let commercialism tarnish your experience. You feel the heartbeat of faith here that welcomes all and that is wonderful feeling.

Am fear a theid a dh'l,

theid e tri uairean ann.

A Gaelic saying meaning those who come to
Iona will come, not once, but three times.

   The cloister sculpture was created by Jacques Lipchitz. The inscription on reads:

Jacques Lipchitz, Jew, faithful to the religion of his ancestors, has made this Virgin for the better understanding of human beings on this earth so that the Spirit may prevail.

The Abbey of Iona and the Second Threshold...

View Across to Mull

   Iona has a very long tradition of pilgrimage.  As a sacred site it holds a place of honor.  People have been making the trip here for over 1,400 years.  And it is not an easy place to get to either!

   First a two hour train ride from Glasgow to the coast.  Then there's a 45 minute ferry ride to Mull.  You then have to get a bus for the cross island trip which takes about an hour and which takes you through breathtaking landscapes.  Finally, you take another ferry for the short 15 minute journey to Iona.  Getting to Iona is as important as being on Iona.  You have to really want to be here.

Evening light at the Abbey

   You will be rewarded in so many ways when you do arrive, this view across to Mull is just one.  There is a shimmering light here that is especially wonderful and in the late afternoon the Abbey is illuminated...the high crosses casting shadows on the church facade.

   This is not just another museum but an active center for ecumenical Christian practice.  It's not just a relic of the past but a place of the future.  You can find out a bit about the Iona Community here.

   St. Columba, whose name in Gaelic means "dove of the church", founded the monastic settlement here on Iona in the 6th century.  Here the Book of Kells was illuminated and it was a center of learning for centuries.  It seemed the perfect place to look at the second threshold of my pilgrimage, spirituality for the second half of life.

White Doves at the Abbey

   My friend in Glasgow gave me a fitting quotation for this leg of my journey...

That man is little to be envied whose piety would not grow

 warmer amongst

the ruins of Iona.

Dr. Samuel Johnson

19 October 1773

   How please Dr. Johnson would be to see the Abbey resurrected to a new life...no longer a ruin!

A Place of Passage and Threshold...

   The priory here on Inchmahome is very impressive.  One can wonder in and out of the stone walls, crossing into spaces of light and air or spaces of dark enclosure. 

   About where I was standing to make this photograph, there would have been a rood screen of carved wood.  It separated the secular outer nave from the choir area by the high altar.  By passing through this rood screen, you were taking an important step - from the temporal world into the private world of the sacred.

   The ancient church felt it was necessary to created this point of demarcation so that one could fully enter into the proper mindset.  I thought this was an important idea to apply to thresholds in general.  It gives the moment of crossing over more significance and import.

   Like Corcomroe Abbey, the first sacred site I visited, Inishmahome is a place of passage and threshold.  Each place within the priory is clearly defined and as I wandered in and out...from the dark to the light and back again...I felt the spirit of the place wrap around me.

   The Celtic knot design took on more meaning for me in this place.  This intertwining weave, going first over and then under, gave me another way to consider thresholds.  There was a distinctive Alice in Wonderland quality to the place and you could find yourself a bit disoriented.

   Perhaps that is what happens to us when we get really old.  Our memories become twists and turns.  We drift in and out of the past.  In the end, however, just as it is at Corcomroe and Inchmahome, our spirit, our soul's essence remains no matter what ruin our body becomes.

A Visit to the Holy Island of Inchmahome...

   I had been a bit disappointed that I wasn't able to get to the holy island in Ireland during my stay on the Burren.  But as I am always going on about, you will get what you need when you need it.

   When I stayed with friends in Glasgow for the weekend, they took be on a days outing to celebrate my birthday.  We went to Stirling Castle and to Inchmahome...a holy island in the scenic Lake of Menteith northwest of Glasgow.  It was a spectacular place and the walk around the island took us along paths edged in a profusion of bluebells.  It was absolutely enchanting.  The lime green moss was a wonderful contrast to the bluebells.

   This is one of several 500 year old sweet chestnut trees on the island.  Their twisted and enormous trunks had huge hollow places.  It was amazing to realize that when these trees were planted America hadn't even been colonized and here they still stand, surrounded by bluebells.

   This was the very best of birthday presents.  I honestly could have wandered around that little island for hours.  In my next post I will show you a bit of the Augustinian Priory on the island and talk, no surprise, of thresholds.

 Leaving the old, both worlds at 

once in view, that stand upon

the threshold of the new.

- Edmund Waller

A Visit to St. Colman's Well...

   The highlight of my stay in the Burren was our journey to St. Colman's well and cave.  To say it was a magical location is not to do it justice.  The mystical presence of the place took one's breath away.  If fairies do exist, they would live here for sure. 

   After a 3/4 of a mile walk through the magnificent stonescape of the Burren, you enter a wooded glen of moss covered ancient trees and ferns. The woods were full of wildflowers and the air dripping with mystery.  You almost found yourself whispering so as not to disturb the atmosphere.

   The tree by the well is covered with "clooties", little cloths tied on by pilgrims.  Each represented a wish or hope of the person.  We all whispered our prayers and tied on the cloths I'd brought with me for just this purpose.  Then I splashed water from the sacred spring all over me, praying for recovery and strength and a meaningful pilgrimage.  All the while the only sound we heard was the bubbling of the stream and the plaintive call of the cuckoo.

    I read the legend of St. Colman to my friends as we picnicked in the  ruins of the tiny chapel build hundreds of years ago on the site.  Weaving the stories into the landscape is an important part of this pilgrimage for me and I was so happy to share it with my friends.

   This is one of the "secret" places of the Burren...one few people bother to visit.  It is such a wonderful experience I hope, should you make your own journey to the Burren, you take the time to visit this enchanted glen.

    

Go with the flow, Bend with the Wind

   The wind is a constant presence here on the Burren.  Both nature and the inhabitants work with it rather than fight it.

You can't change the wind, adjust your

 sails instead.

   Here is a photograph that illustrates both approaches.  The tree grows with its back to the wind allowing the gales to blow safely over it.  The people build their stone walls with gaps so that, again, the wind can pass through.  How much of our life would be that much easier if we just learned this simple lesson.  I think this will be my Icon of the experience here in the Burren.

   With my medical condition, I have had to adopt this approach.  I can't change what is tormenting my body.  I have to take care of what I can and not push myself.  I may not be doing all the things I'd hope to on this journey but the lessons and the experience can still be enriching. My little Vade Mecum is giving me all sorts of inspiration and comfort.

   Today I celebrate my 65th birthday with friends in Glasgow, Scotland. A BIG threshold met and crossed.  Now I can take advantage of the senior citizen discounts!  How odd it sounds to say that...

 

Corcomroe Abbey Reflections...

   I spent some wind swept time at the Corcomroe Abbey, one of my favorite places to photograph in the Burren.  I was able to have the place totally to myself, one of the benefits of traveling off season.

   This is the effigy of Connor O'Brian, the grandson of the 12th founder of the abbey.  Buried to the left of the high alter, he has laid tranquil and undisturbed for centuries.

    The landscape around the Abbey has remained essentially undisturbed as well.  As I sat there I could hear the cuckoo's distinctive call and the wind whistling through the ruin.  It was such a timeless feeling.

   I didn't make very many photos this time.  I'd missed photographing the effigy on my last visit, caught up as I was in the atmosphere of the place, so I wanted to record that peaceful face and that strangely shaped arm!  It is very easy to get so entranced by a location that you forget to "record" it. This is certainly that kind of location.  This day I was, again, content to just sit and soak in the energy.  One can almost hear the chanting monks!  I was happy to just contemplate and not worry about the photography part!

   Unfortunately, I've had a set back health wise. I spent a couple of hours in a clinic getting a new round of medication.  I will just need to get myself to Cork airport today and my friends will meet me at Glasgow airport.  I will welcome some time to rest and let the medication kick in.  The amazing thing about yesterday was how I was able to find everything I needed.  The man in the parking lot that got me the coins I needed for the parking, the taxi that appeared out of no where when I couldn't walk another step, and the clinic that took me right in and ordered what I needed, no waiting.  It bordered on the miraculous.  This too shall pass....

Eroded by time...

   The limestone pavings of the Burren are like organic, free form shapes.  They have been eroded over centuries by the wind and rain.  I couldn't help but think of the Taoist idea of the power and centrality of water.  Nothing can resist it given time yet it remains fluid, reflecting the sky, conforming to whatever container it finds itself in but remaining the strongest, most enduring element.  A good role model I always thought.

   I will soon be reaching my 65th milestone.  I must admit that I sometimes feel a bit worn down, like these stones.  But what I noticed is that unlike the smooth, bold boulders, these pavings are so much more beautiful in their softly undulating forms.

   Showing your age should not be a problem except in our youth focused culture.  I don't mind crossing that threshold, into my "golden years".  Whenever I complain about a creaky knee or some other random ache, I will remember these stones.  Time has sculpted me as well and I wouldn't exchange those experiences for anything in the world.

  

Another Kind of Threshold...

   The Polnabrone portal tomb is over 5,000 years and is a Burren icon.  I make a stop at it every time I visit the Burren, usually a couple of hours after I get off the plane, usually severely jet lagged. It still impresses me!

   This time I looked at it as a monumental threshold...into a resting place...into the womb of the earth from which we all came and to which we all return in time.   It is not a morbid thought at all.  In fact, it is quite comforting.  No use worrying about something that is inevitable.

   I learned, this morning, of the death of a dear colleague from my teaching days in a tragic accident  and it made me think of something John O'Donohue wrote:

Your soul knows the geography of your destiny...it will

take you where you need to go, but more important it

will teach you a kindness of rhythm in your journey.

John's grave at Fanora

   Ancient bones have been excavated here and when it was made it would have been covered over with earth forming a mound with a single entrance.  People have inhabited this remote landscape for 10,000 years.  There is a pull, a magnetism here that you can feel right down to your toes. Those ancient people knew it, it is why they came. Things happen to you here and you will be changed on a very elemental level by the experience.  That is one definition of a thin place.

   I continue to struggle to get my health and energy back but this too, as awful as it is, is part of the journey.  It has brought me face to face with my own vulnerability and made the concept of "community" all the more important for me.  Every pilgrim knows that we can't avoid adversity.  We must accept what does come our way...we will find the way to get through it with the help of friends and loved ones.

  

On Location - The Burren

   My first "On Location..." post on my Threshold Pilgrimage!  Stepping back into this amazing landscape nearly made me weep...I love it so.

   I've settled into "John's house" and I feel right at home.  On this leg of the pilgrimage, I am looking at "community", especially my relationship with it.

   A serious medical event the week I was to depart has left me weak and trying desperately to recover.  My friends have been so supportive but I know that I must modify my days...be gentle with myself.  I'm here, and there was a brief time last week when I wasn't sure I would be, and that's the most important thing.

   Writing, walking, just breathing in this transcendent place is such a blessing, I am so grateful.  You will understand that these posts will be a bit shorter than normal.  I hardly want to stay inside when I can walk in wonder in this spectacular landscape!

   For four Sundays in June, I will be writing a post for A Sacred Journey on my pilgrimage.  I hope you will follow the series.  The link to the site is in the right side bar.

Flowers in Paradise...

   Photographing "Eleanor's Flowers" on Campobello in September had me looking more closely at the flowers on St. John.

   When your eyes are opened to a new subject,  it alters how you approach each subsequent landscape you walk through.  What you would normally pass by you stop and behold.

   Whereas the dahlias of Campobello were so familiar to me, St. John's flora is exotic.  I do agree, however, with O'Keeffe's sentiment above.   We usually never take the time to look into the tiny faces of flowers.
  

   Everyday, as we trudged up the driveway to our car, we walked by these little flowers on the right.  One day, I stopped and really looked closely at them.  The centers seemed to glow with an interior light.  They were absolutely lovely and I couldn't believe that we hadn't noticed their glorious display!

   I think the real lesson I've learned during my stay on St. John is the importance of taking the time to notice the tiny "insignificant" things.  The magnificent landscapes are a wonder to behold but so are natures small miracles, like this flower.  The pink sand beaches and flaming sunsets are mirrored in this delicate flower and the experience is just as stunning.

   I've decided to make my "Good Crop" of images from St. John a collection of 12 of these exotic flowers.  I hope you enjoy gazing into the tiny faces...

A Good Crop from St. John

Discovering a Sense of Place on St. John, US Virgin Islands

   Discovering the sense of place whenever and wherever I travel is very important for me.  I don't think I've really "gotten" a location until I can name at least five unique distinctions that separate it from another place and, more importantly, that I have experienced those distinctions first hand. This is my second trip to St. John so I think I'm ready to make my list.

#1  The National Park:  This is the chief reason to visit St. John.  The hiking trails and historical sites are wonderful.  Last time I visited, my walk to the petroglyph site was the highlight of my trip.  It is a haunting and magical "thin place" and a unique characteristic of this island.

   The sugar plantation ruins, like Annaberg and Catherineberg, are a great way to spend an afternoon. There are many ways to approach them but just sitting amongst the ruins and listening to the wind and the birds is amazing.  Bring along a book on their history.


#2 The Beautiful Beaches: There are lovely beaches all over the Caribbean and I've been to many of them but the beaches of St. John really stand out. Trunk Bay is consistently ranked one of the most beautiful beaches in the world.   Contemplating the elements of wind, water, fire and earth along these shores is uplifting. And yes, before you ask, the sunsets can be just that pink!

#3  The Donkeys:  The Jerusalem donkeys that roam free on the island are a treasure.  They are well looked after by the National Park and residents take a special pride in them.  A baby donkey was born two weeks ago and there is already a website soliciting ideas for a name.  Animal lover that I am, I can't resist these sweet little faces.

   Their ancestors were brought to St. John by the Dutch plantation owners to work hauling sugar cane.  I think it is a form of justice to have their descendents live in complete freedom now and it makes me smile to see them lazing on the sandy beaches.


#4  The People:  Meeting "Miss Olivia" was a wonderful moment on this trip  I love to hear the voices and stories and the music in the places I visit.  There is a Carnival festival every June - July which I would love to see sometime.  The costumes and parades are fascinating.  But for now, Miss Olivia will be my "face of St. John".

   I've mentioned this before but it bears repeating.  When you travel, get to know the "locals".  Stay at a small B&B instead of the large chain hotels.  Eat where the locals eat, like Joe's Barbeque in Cruz Bay. Attend local fairs and farmer's markets.  You'll eat better and cheaper and you'll meet some wonderful people.


#5 The Sticker Shock:  I can't end this post without adding one feature of the island that is a bit less endearing.  It is not called the "Beverly Hills of the Caribbean" for nothing!  Gracious me, it was startling to see the prices in the super market.  I never looked at the price tag until I got to the beach with the crisps that I'd bought  to go with the sandwiches we made.  Yes, you're seeing that correctly...$12.95!  Next time I'll  pay closer attention!

   The most mesmerizing thing you can do on St. John is to go snorkeling.  It is a magical world beneath the sea and I can only share it with you through a video.  To float suspended above waving fan coral and schools of stunning fish is an experience not to be missed.  Be sure to adjust the setting to HD to get the full experience of this silent and beautiful world...

Spotted Ray

Snorkeling in the National Park on St. John

    This post wasn't so  much about photography as it is about experiencing the location you are in.  But in the end, that experience is what best informs your camera work.  You will see beyond the "postcards" and gaze into an intimate sense of the place.  That will only enhance the photographs you do make on location.

   I leave the island tomorrow so  I will return to other topics in these daily posts. (Of course, once I get home and look through my images, I will have a few more reflections I'm sure! I have to share my "Icon" with you and I'm working on my "Good Crop" so we're not completely through with St. John yet!)

   I hope you have enjoyed a vicarious journey to St. John but we all know, a time must comes when we have to return to reality.   I'm not looking forward to the 25 degree temperatures in New England...Brrrrrr...but I will have warm memories of this lovely island.  I do hope you  will be able to visit someday!  If you do want to visit, begin with my board on Pinterest....

On Location - St. John

  

It's All Uphill from Here...

   Pathways...all year I've mused on their message, their meaning for me.  Here on St. John I confronted them yet again.  This is the driveway at the B&B I'm staying at in Fish Bay.  Believe me when I say, ALL the roads and driveways on the island look like this!

   St. John, like most of the Caribbean islands are really volcanoes jutting out of the water. That is why you have to fly into St. Thomas and take a ferry to St. John.  You would have to take a helicopter if you wanted to fly to St. John.  Because St. John is such a small island, it has very little "flat" land.  It is like driving on a roller coaster!  You also have to drive on the left side but the cars have the steering wheel on the left as well all of which makes getting around on St. John a bit of a challenge to say the least.

   My friend, who owns the B&B, parks at the top so her guests don't have to walk up and down the drive.  It was my daily challenge and also my daily reminder of my creaky knees.  Each year it seems to get more and more difficult.

   You do what you have to do and even if it seems all "up hill from here", you go on.  Who knows what awaits you at the top...around the bend...or down the other side?  It is the question and the quest.

   It reminded me of my trek to the top of Mont St. Michel in France last year.  It seemed so daunting but you do it because it is a much greater emotional pain to not do it!  After all, pilgrimages have their element of physical strain and discomfort.  If it was easy it wouldn't be as meaningful and I've never been one to take the easy path.



 

The Annaberg Sugar Plantation Re-Visited...

See note below...

   One of my favorite experiences when I visited St. John in March of 2012 was the visit to the Annaberg Sugar Plantation.  (You can read that post here and you probably should re-read it just to set the stage for this post. ) In March it was a startling encounter for me.  This time I wanted to see if I would see it and, more importantly, feel it the same way.

   On this visit it was a grey, overcast day.  In March it was a steamy day with a blazing sun.  My friend accompanied me this time and the experience was quite different but not initially.

   When we walked up the road approaching the mills, with the ruins of the slave quarters on our left, I started to get that same oppressive feeling I had the last time.  We went in and out of the ruins and I tried to describe my feelings to my friend.  She agreed that there is definitely a feeling about the place and it is not a happy one.  But then we met Miss Olivia...

Miss Olivia

    Miss Olivia met us at the door of the cook house where she was making johnny cakes as part of a National Park's cultural event.  It was like the sun came out with that smile.  She told us all about the process of bread making while we nibbled on samples of the warm johnny cakes with papaya jam and her sweet iced tea.

    She seemed to radiate goodness and kindness and in the process dispelled our initial gloom.  It is a good example of how putting faces with the places makes such a difference. Last time I walked around by myself and there was nothing to lift my spirits from the overall sadness of the place.

   Although I still had the feeling of this thin place that I had felt before, my encounter with Miss Olivia created the counter balance I needed this time.

   Lesson for today...be sure to engage with local residents when you travel.  Seek them out and listen to their stories.  Embrace the place through their eyes and not only yours.  It will make all the difference in the world to your experience.

For an in-depth story about Annaberg's history visit this link.....

Note: You can see the type of construction that is used on the island. Stonewalls are filled with whatever the mason could find...old bricks, pieces of coral, and sea shells. It makes for a lovely textured surface and today you see this type of wall everywhere in new construction. This is a little detail from the house I am staying at...Treetops.  People become very creative with their wall construction!

   Each location I've visited around the world has its own unique eccentricities that add to the sense of place.  These are what you must seek out and embrace.