Along the Way
Serenity is a much-sought commodity these days. It certainly is for me. I think that’s true for many people in these “interesting” times.
Maybe it’s just me, but it seems that the situation on this planet is getting worse instead of better. Most of the time, I don’t want to watch the news. We can’t seem to find a way to stop killing each other. We’re obviously poisoning the planet in myriad ways. The primary occupation of most of the rich seems to be to rob from the poor. The litany of human perversity goes on and on.
It’s no surprise, then, if I seek moments when I can steal away from the troublesome day to come and find peace in the beauty of my adopted land.
Driving to work in the morning often provides such opportunities.
As I turned onto Coronation drive this morning, the Finnesterre Mountains were brooding across Astrolabe Bay looking bluer than the sea:
I crossed the road to have a look at the shoreline. The muted light made the mossy rocks glow fluorescent green:
To the northeast, the glassy sea reflects the morning sun crashing through the clouds:
I got back into the car and drove up the road to Machinegun Point. It’s one the spots that I love to photograph:
The image above reminds me that change is a blessed thing. Just as a photographer notices the change of light, atmosphere, and context when he composes, I notice changes in life’s circumstances that drag me along, kicking and screaming, to new experiences – new vistas, if you will. One day I’m dismally wondering, “Is this all there is?” The next day, circumstances change – new forces come into play. I may be facing a new life that promises new opportunities.
Certainly, not all changes are beneficial. Often circumstances beyond our control bring about undesirable change.
But we can control the changes that we craft of our own volition. When we opt to change ourselves for noble reasons, we are truly human in the best sense. When we choose options that better our family or community relationships, we benefit the whole.
It’s trite, but true; when we cease to change, we die.
Related posts:
- Driving to Work How many people enjoy driving to work each day? Come with me. It’s only about fifteen minutes. I’ll show you the scenes that I see every day on my way to the office. A few minutes from my house, as soon as I get off the dirt road, I hit...
- Monday Is Nearly Tuesday You can tell that I'm desperate for material when I come up with titles such as this one. See the amazing not-machinegun at Machinegun Point....
- Mountains on Mountains If you’re seeing this it may be because I’m On The Road. I’ve prepared a few posts to be automatically published unless I intercept them and substitute a travel post. When I leave my house each morning, I pass through a gate at the edge of our compound and this...
- Oh My. The Sky! Have a look at some of my personal skies from Madang, Papua New Guinea. I'm willing to share them. - Jan Messersmith...
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- The Sea is RISING! . . . or IS It? Ten years or so is nowhere near enough time to make any kind of statistically reliable statement about sea level changes. That’s unless the West Antarctic glob slithers into the sea or the Greenland ice cap gets all frayed and falls apart like an old baklava. If something like that...
- Blue Mountain Majesty When I leave my house in the morning I can see the Finisterre Mountains as I come in on the Airport Road. That is usually where I decide if I am later going to turn on Coronation Drive to grab some images. If the mountains look crisp and blue, then...
[...] When I leave my house in the morning I can see the Finisterre Mountains as I come in on the Airport Road. That is usually where I decide if I am later going to turn on Coronation Drive to grab some images. If the mountains look crisp and blue, then I’m going to have a fifteen minute detour on the way to work. [...]
[...] There is a large wood-chipping factory just outside the gate. The reddish stuff is tens of thousands of plantation-grown eucalyptus trees all chopped up into little chips about the size of a playing card. Once every few months a giant ship comes in and hauls them away. The blue mountains in the distance are the Finisterre Mountains. Here is another shot that I grabbed just outside of our gate: On the way into town, I happened past just as this pretty scene was unfolding: It is a ship way out on Astrolabe Bay. The big Casuarina tree in the foreground makes a nice contrast. I have some other amusing shots of the mountains and the bay here. [...]
[...] It is a well-known landmark in Madang. You can see other images of Machinegun Point here, here and [...]