It's official…summer is officially over. The sun has set marking an end to summer's last day before the kids return to school. Although I realize the need for the kids to head back to school to dust out the cobwebs from their brain, it's not without a twinge of sadness. Even after the teeth had been brushed, I was looking for a way to make one final grasp for summer's pleasures. In one last hurrah, we headed to Dari Serv to savor the flavors of summer for one last time. In reality, the year truly begins in September despite what the calendar on the wall may challenge. Armed with new pencils and untattered notebooks, September brings so many new hopes and challenges for our kids. This year, both kids will navigate the triumphs and pitfalls of their middle school years. In new schools, Kate and Peter will find themselves opening their new notebooks to a blank page filled with possibilities. As bedtime approached their general enthusiasm seemed to wane into nervousness. Their ice cream high was gone and they both wore their game face. They seemed uneasy with the thought of whats ahead. I remember the feeling well as I sat on the starting line of waiting for the gun to go off during rowing races. Questions saturate your head. Am I ready for this? Am I doomed to failure? Will I be able to reach my locker? Armed with enthusiasm, I went into their bedrooms to say goodnight and assure them that they would find their way. I would suggest to be sure not to leave the bathroom with toilet paper stuck to your foot or walk into an 8th grade classroom looking for seventh grade history. For Kate, as the bus rattled up the road, what only mattered was one's hair in the rainy weather. A constant readjustment would ensure that the well crafted outfit would stay in tack. 7th grade was only minutes away and she had waited for this for quite some time now. She and her high school friend Abby would enter this world together today. As she climbed aboard the bus full of high schoolers, I couldn't help but recall her first day of kindergarten when the kids could barely see over the windows. This different scenario would make my throat tighten feeling nostalgic. Peter's story would be all together different. I was happy that he remembered to brush his teeth on this important day. He would jump from puddle to puddle ensuring he was just dirty enough for his first day of middle school life. His potential would now be in hands of his capable teacher. I felt excited for him and for all the others who were having a fresh start in the new school. With the good bye, the quiet feeling would be replaced quickly with the many ideas and goals for myself for this school year. Even we grown-ups start fresh in September. But for now, my ceremonial hot chocolate must first be consumed. Everything else will just happen.... For the kids can expect a conversation like this today:
1 Comment
A great venue for photo shoots.The tree-line in better days.When the cut limbs are cleaned from the bottom, there will be nothing left but empty space. It's been a difficult day. I came home from a photo job and walked into a disaster going on in my back yard. I find myself sleepless at midnight thinking of how our rights as citizens have been violated. After Irene's wrath, we were relieved to find our ancient trees had been spared. Like everyone else, we cleaned up, helped our neighbors out and got on with our lives. On Miller road thankfully only one line had come down. The line that had fallen apparently goes into one, maybe two homes. So as a neighborhood, we fared well by comparison to many other places. I pulled into my driveway and heard the squeal of chainsaws coming from the vicinity of the backyard. We own two acres of land, one of which is field behind our home. The field has towering( I mean really towering) white pines that were planted years and years ago to act as a barrier to our neighboring properties. There are probably 20 of them. We have some great neighbors, but everyone likes privacy. Because of the trees, we had complete privacy from our immediate neighbors to the left and they from us. As the chain saws buzzed, I was presented with massive gaping holes along the entire tree line that had once been perfect. Branches were left on our side of the property, but approximately 60 percent of the rest of the trees' circumferences had been clear-cut sheered. The top 30 percent of each tree had been spared, but it looked obscene. For the neighbors, what had happened to their view of the towering pines was apocalyptic, as they left not a branch on the trees except for little tufts of of greenery capping the treetops. Aside from stripping our trees, almost every tree in their side yard was sheered or removed. Our side was spared slightly more, but not without extensive damage to the trees. I ran over to the neighbors yard in shock ready to tackle down anyone with a chainsaw. Let me give you a heads up that I am no tree hugger. Jeez, I couldn't tell you the names of most trees if I tried. But something had gone terribly amiss. As a verbal tussle volleyed back and forth, my neighbors just watched. While I believe they felt helpless against this apparent policy of CL and P, I was surprised at their complacency about the destruction. Did they not feel the same despair? After taking thousands of real estate photos, I can promise each and every one of them, that their home values have been greatly reduced today. One electrical line was saved that should have been buried underground anyway over the years. To add fuel to the fire, the culprit limb that had caused the fallen line wasn't even the white pine trees that were being punished. Rather, it was a dead tree that lost a branch in the neighbors side yard during the storm. Rather than cut a "C" along the electrical line that is customarily done in a situation in wooded areas, CL and P thought this was the best solution. We were never informed of their decision to do this so we could do our best to monitor and minimize destruction. By the time we got home, it was too late and the man suggested that "we build a fence". My neighbor did his best to comfort me in saying that our trees would begin to show recovery in about 2 to 5 years. I believe they may need a miracle to hold on despite their scars especially now that they are all weighted so heavily to one side. I realize that this blog is supposed to stay positive for a friend that has been sick. I try every day to see miracles in people, nature and the world that brings them together. I do my best to always look at the bright side of things. But today I was made sick to my stomach by the rash and irresponsible decision by CL and P that I can now only see as power mongers. I was told that the "arborist" department would reply to my complaint on Tuesday. I am sure the trees would like to have a spokesperson if they could talk. I understand that CL and P's job is to keep lines clear, but today they stepped over the line in their desire to take care of the situation. In the years that we have lived here I have been incensed three times by feeling violated in my own neighborhood. That percentage is pretty low for someone that's a half-blood of Italian and Irish. Anyway, first was when the massive power lines that grew like a cancer throughout Durham and Middlefield. The next was a story for another day and now this. So while I can't sleep, at least I'll be able to see if our neighbors can't sleep either. Apparently, hurricane Irene should have been named Hurricane CL and P because within it's wrath we surely were not spared.
Little girls just aren't supposed to grow up. Almost seven years ago to the day, we moved into this little town. Within minutes of pulling into the driveway two sets of eyes peered through the bushes. Soon Abby and Michael would prove to become tried and true friends of Kate and Peter. Despite their differences in age or ideas they would always seem to find a way to be companions. Our yard would be a meeting place for countless impromptu play dates. In my kitchen, we would go through vats of mac and cheese to see them through these years together. Peter would learn what it feels like to have a brother while Kate would learn of the kinship of having a big sister. Hundreds of buses would come and go and hundreds of times the boys would horse around while waiting. The basket filled with weapons for all situations would solve all their issues of restlessness. The girls would spend countless hours creating Playmobil worlds and dressing up American Girl dolls. Today, Abby showed up at my office door dressed so adorably that any little American doll would have been jealous. I immediately assumed that she needed some time in the spotlight. Kate saw how cute Abby looked and together they went upstairs to find something something equally as stylish. As Kate dressed, I was happy to get my photo gear together. By this time in the summer, any entertainment is welcome. 45 minutes of glamming it up for the camera followed as the girls showed me their best model smiles. It was a joy for me to be to photographing people. Getting some shots right and some wrong, sometimes makes you feel like your playing roulette. Things can go amiss; the model blinks, a screwy exposure and you adjust and adjust and adjust. Then the ball falls on your number and your spot on. The model angles herself perfectly, the light is right, and exposure spot on. Afterwards, editing is like opening Christmas gifts and you cherish your favorites. For myself, editing the photos creates the final icing to the cake that lay beneath. When all is said and done, you have connected in some way and everything feels right. Seeing the girls meet once again in our yard gives me comfort in the fact that despite the fact that they are growing up, they still have each other to look to and feel at ease with. I am lucky to have captured just a few minutes of it, but it promises to stay with me. Beauty and the Beast |
Archives
July 2018
|