Isolation, Longing and Forbearance

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It’s been quite a week, starting with a very intense forty-eight hours of helping a stranger, who has become a friend, to move into a new home.  This whole experience put several things into perspective;  The demons of my adolescence had to be put to bed, for good, over the LAST forty-eight hours.  These were the nattering voices of “_________ is way out of your league”, “A loser like you couldn’t get out of the batter’s box with ________”, “Give it up and make do with so and so”.  I had to sit myself down last night, and say it plainly “Gary, come on.  We are talking about FRIENDSHIP here, not some wild and crazy emotional blow-out.  Besides, where are all those hotshots today?  Either they are stuck in humdrum marriages, are living just like you are, alone and searching, or they’re dead.”

The fact is I HAVE made a new friend.  Yes, she is physically beautiful, but that’s NOT the main draw for me.  This person is for real; no airs of pretense and no hidden agendas.  It’s all about the company I might keep, the time we might spend together, the enjoyment of life we might share.  I say “might”, because I still don’t want to be a nuisance.  As much as I love being with her, I have to respect her space.  So, I will wait, let her know, in little ways, that I think of her often, and hope for a call or a message.

I did not “make do”, when I entered into my first post-adolescence friendship with a woman.  It turned into a marriage, and a darned good one, though it was stormy at times, and involved a lot of growth by both of us.  Not all friendships between men and women, however fond they are of each other, become marriages.  Certainly, my long distance friendship with a person in another state, which will last forever, is decidedly not romantic and will not translate into such.  My newest friendship is just that, a friendship.  I love her, and would do anything honorable for her, any time of day or night.

So, I have to be forbearing- with my critics, with well-meaning friends and relatives of my friend, who are just trying to look out for her, with those women to whom I am not attracted, but who still want my attention, with the men who ridiculed me, back in the day, and, most importantly, with myself.

It was a very intense week, last week.  My new friend is recovering from all the stress.  I pray for her, in that regard, and for her happiness.  I am recovering from what I now see has been a long 2 1/2 years of emotional night, with false starts, blind alleys and strange interludes.  M, I  care for you and don’t care who knows it.  I just can’t say it enough, and if I don’t see you, have a nice day and a good week.

From Home to Home, and Back, Day 22, Block Island,Part 3: The Payne Steps to New Harbor

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I undertook the Payne Steps, from the overlook to the seashore, as I can’t pass up an opportunity for a cardiovascular workout, especially when faced with luscious New England seafood.  SAM_6956

These are examples of cairn art, a pastime I have seen elsewhere along the New England coast.  It seems to be in full flower here along Block Island’s eastern shore.

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Here is a piece of detritus, actually adding some ambiance to the beach.

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This “catapult” is of recent vintage, though several indigenous nations counciled here in the 17th Century, around the time of King Philip’s War.

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The gypsum and limestone cliffs that ring the island provided a measure of protection for the gathered nations.

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Moving inland, just a bit, one finds static, catchment-type ponds.

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Along the approach to the glacial moraines of Rodman’s Hollow, an invitation to take a few swings at life.

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Then, we get to Rodman’s Hollow.

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Once out of the glacial moraines, I passed the airport and New Shoreham’s Town Hall.

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Back in town, en route to New Harbor, I passed three more of Block Island’s great hotels.  First, is the  National.

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Next is the Surf Hotel.

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Finally, here is the Harborside Inn.

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I came to New Harbor, a mile west of the Old, as the day was drawing to a close.

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There is “lethal” twist to New Shoreham’s rather formidable line of restaurants.

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Finally, as the ferry back to Point Judith pulled out, I caught the sunset.

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This island, like its Massachusetts and New York neighbours, is a place of dreams.

From Home to Home, and Back, Day 22: Block Island, Part 2: Eastern Resorts to Payne Overlook

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I spent about two hours on this stretch of the walk, and found it the most varied in scenery.  The crowds congregated around the great houses, between New Shoreham and North Point Fibers.SAM_6909

Here is the Manisses Hotel, owned by the Abrams family.

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Lightburne House is a bed and breakfast, just south of the Manisses.

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The Abrams’ also have an organic farm and exotic stock ranch.  The animals may be fed with pellets, which are purchased outside the pens.

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As it happened, only the donkey was much interested in eating.

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Tank, the Galapagos tortoise, was just glad to be out and about.

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I have always liked long-haired, shaggy-looking Scottish cattle.

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This seems to be my summer for emus.

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The dromedaries were making a racket, but kept back from feeding.

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The Birds of Paradise were not flying up anyone’s nose, in this early afternoon.

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Free-ranging alpacas are the sources of wool for North Light Fibers, whose store is adjacent to the ranch.

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1661 House is the southernmost of the Abrams Family properties.

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The Spring House is the last of the great resorts in the southeast quadrant.

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Occasional views from the road reminded me that there is good reason for these resorts to be expensive.

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I arrived at Southeast Light House around 2:30.  The house is unoccupied, but is maintained by the Block Island Historical Society.

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Like other communities, Block Island suffered a loss on September 11, 2001.

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The view from Southeast Light is, nonetheless, breathtaking.

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There were other gems awaiting:  Payne Overlook, and its Steps to the Shore, and Rodman’s Hollow.

These will be featured in Part 3.

From Home to Home, and Back, Day 22: Block Island, Part 1- New Shoreham

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The small island that lies between Rhode Island’s southern coast and Long Island’s eastern tip has elements of both New England and New York.  New Shoreham, the village on the north side of the island, is the business and administrative center of the island, and is home to most of the 900 or so year-round residents.

It is to New Shoreham that regular ferry boats come, each day, year round, from Point Judith (Galilee), RI, New London, CT and Montauk, NY.  I took the 11 AM from Point Judith, arriving in New Shoreham at noon, on Friday the 13th.   It turned out to be a fine day, and no one was brandishing a scythe.

I spent the day on foot, exploring much of the eastern portion of the island, from New Shoreham  to Rodman’s Hollow and Black Rock Point. This post shows New Shoreham, and Ocean View, its town park, overlooking the sea to the east.

Here are some views of North Point, as we steamed towards the island’s Old Harbor.

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Around noon, we came into New Shoreham.

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The Visitors Center greets one and all.

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I enjoyed lunch at Finn’s, choosing an al fresco table.

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Old Harbor Inn is one of nearly two dozen establishments where one could spend the night.  I, of course, was a day traveler.

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The island’s sole rotary is in the middle of New Shoreham.

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Another Cape Cod style structure is the chapel on the hill.

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Just east of the chapel is Ocean View, with its meditation pavilion and short, but scenic trails.

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Here are the stairs to nowhere.  Actually, the area is a remnant of a small farm house, from the 18th Century.

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A small cenotaph memorializes a fisherman from New Shoreham.

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From the overlook, one can see Ballard’s Beach and jetty.

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The inland trail takes one around to a small farm, run by the town’s public school.  Ruins abound, of the abandoned farm.

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The children decorated and laid these stones.

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From Ocean View, the path took me past some other small farms.

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Next:  Part 2, East Side resorts to the Payne Overlook.

From Home to Home, and Back, Day 20: September 11 at the JFK Presidential Library

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I have been intending to visit the John F. Kennedy presidential Library, in Boston’s south side, for a long time.  Having been to Ground Zero two days prior, I decided to head to the museum that honours our 35th President, as a 9/11 activity.

There were several views of the Boston skyline, and of the Boston Harbor islands, from this peninsular vantage point.

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Inside the Library itself, photography was prohibited, in the exhibit halls, but not in the Flag Hall.

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Outside, one may see the pleasure boat, which the President and his family enjoyed so much at Hyannisport.

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The exterior is also imposing.

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Finally, my fellow travelers and I viewed some beach-type vegetation, in the Cape Cod style garden.

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This was my last full day, in the Boston area.  On Day 21, Thursday, I headed down to southern Rhode Island.

Next:  Block Island, Part 1:  New Shoreham

From Home to Home, and Back, Day 18: The Trees of Brooklyn, The Towers of Liberty

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I made two very distinct stops, during my first visit to New York City in nearly 20 years:  The headquarters of Slow Food USA, in Brooklyn and the emerging Liberty Towers in lower Manhattan, on September 9.

Slow Food USA is an outgrowth of a movement which began in Italy, several years ago, as a reaction to the proliferation of fast food restaurants in Rome and the cities of the north.  Today, many countries have Slow Food movements, promoting the gathering of people around a carefully-cooked meal, preferably one with fresh ingredients.

I joined the HQ team, arriving at the tail end of their lunch break, as the younger members began to move back towards their desks.  The following photos show the area of Brooklyn near the Headquarters, and the office itself.

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Once back outside, I took a few moments, while walking along Brooklyn’s busy streets, to admire a community garden, across the street from Slow Food, and a few tall buildings, en route to the subway.

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Below are some views of Santa Maria SS Addolorata Catholic Church, in a still heavily Italian neighbourhood.

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A few other spires caught my eye, from a distance, just outside Mocha Bagel Shop, near the Carroll Street subway.

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Upon arriving in the area of Ground Zero, I sought solace in St. Paul Chapel.

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Memorabilia of the horrible day are on display in the Chapel.

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I found looking at the site, a good deal less daunting than I had anticipated.  It is still jarring- a work in progress, where once, there had been majesty and strength.  Now, at least, there is resilience.

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Somehow, whenever I feel trepidation, or any other time I have needed it, one of these shows up- on the sidewalk, on the trail, or in a rock formation.  This one is of oak bark, and I found it on a Brooklyn sidewalk.  Someone looks out for me, all day, every day.

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From Home to Home, and Back, Day 17: Connecticut Interlude

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On Thursday, Friday and Saturday of my first week in Massachusetts, I basically kicked back, visited with a childhood friend, and attended a Navy Band concert at Breakheart.  On Sunday, Sept. 8, I drove down to Killingworth, CT, to visit with a member of the Baha’i community in the New London area.

Tom S. is a Renaissance man and has as many ideas in his head, as I have hairs on mine.  Here is a look at his garden-bounded home.

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I will long remember this Sunday, in the serenity of Connecticut, as turmoil starts to build in my life, once again.

From Home to Home, and Back, Day 14: A Trip Back to Lynn

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The place I  knew as “downtown”, to which I ran errands for my mother by taking the bus, to which we went to the ocean for a swim, where we often went hiking in the woods, was Lynn.  One of the earliest towns in Massachusetts Bay Colony, a bastion of Puritanism, Lynn became, in the Industrial Age, known as the “City of Sin”, for its gin mills, pubs and houses of ill repute.

The city is now moving forward with recognizing its heritage, and is taking steps to expand a long inchoate Museum of History.

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It was to Lynn Woods, though, that my feet needed to go, and so, after a half-hour walk around the museum, I headed five miles west.

The Preserve has wide bicycle paths, a small rose garden and a shore along Lily Pond.  Mostly, though, there are the trees, and rocks, that are the legacy of a glacial period.

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Once arriving at these two rock gateposts, know that you have arrived at the park’s western limit.

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Views of Lynn’s Walden Pond (not to be confused with the eponymous body of water in Concord, MA), are off to the north.

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Of course, there is no connection between Penny and this bridge, but it touched my heart, anyway.

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This encounter with my youthful past reminded me that there are good things, marvels, in anyone’s life, at any stage.

Mesa Verde’s Wetherill Side, Part 2- Step House

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Here are several more specific scenes of Step House, which is the self-guided portion of the mesa.  Long House, which I will visit sometime in the future, is only accessible via guided tour.

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Then, it was time to climb back out of Step House Canyon.

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In the end, a lone bird made the statement that nature is the most resilient of forces.

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So, another fine visit to Colorado came to an end, following dinner at Jack and Janelle’s, in Cortez, on August 1.  Ironically, a second such visit will end on Thursday.

Mesa Verde’s Wetherill Side- Part 1, The Gate to Step House

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Wetherill Mesa, on the west side of the park, is one of the more patience-building areas in our National Park system.  This is because it’s off-limits, much of the year, and is only open 6 hours a day, when it is accessible.

I recognize the reason- the narrow road, with sheer drop-offs in spots, would be horrific places to end one’s life.

Here are some scenes from this final stop on my earlier spiritual quest, on August 1.

This is in two parts.  First, from the gate to the trailhead for Step House, one of two preserved ruins at Wetherill.

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A hawk graced the sky overhead, on that warm day.

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Much of the area was ravaged by wild fire, in 2011.

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Much of it is coming back, however.

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There are a fair number of pictographs and petroglyphs, along the approach to Step House.

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Next: Step House’s Preserved Ruins