Tuesday, October 8, 2013


   All my life, even before I embraced contemplative photography, I have been guided by signposts.  These are things that appear unexpectedly and which let you know you are on the right path.  They are often metaphoric.  In fact, most of my signposts are in this category.  They are not overtly obvious but subtly indicative like learning the cove in Machiasport was called Howard's Cove, my friends last name.  The same friend whose cairn of remembrance I built on Campobello.   But sometimes they can be quite literal, like these examples.

   The wonderful blog by Mary A. DeJong, Waymarkers, is one I've been following for awhile now.    Waymarkers are like signposts...they mark a route and guide the pilgrim.  You have to be attuned to them and you can easily over look them in your day to day rush.  I like the term.

   I stopped for lunch at an Irish pub in Lubec while I was vacationing down east recently.  As soon as I sat down I glanced up and saw the sign above hanging from a rafter.  I was amazed.  Glendalough is the third leg of my Threshold Pilgrimage next year and I didn't expect to see a sign for it in Lubec, Maine.  Glendalough is not like Dublin or Galway or Limerick...those I would expect to see in an Irish pub.  But there it was, pointing East and it made me smile.

  Two days later when we ferried out to Deer Island, I saw this sign along the side of the road.  It was pointing to a little shop called The Pilgrim's Rest.  An odd, unexpected word to see on this little island in the Bay of Fundy.  I had been talking about pilgrimage to the group I was with and seeing this sign, again, made me smile.

   Coincidence my friends would say.  So would I except it happens to me constantly and in the most unusual places.  I prefer to think that when these signposts appear the universe is winking at me and letting me know it is fully aware of my intentions and approves of them...and that too makes me smile.

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