A new morning, a new week, a new month.  It seems just the right day to resume writing a blog post a couple times a week.  Then, there's the long walk Belle and I used to make each morning, abandoned for some reason weeks ago.  As the skies brightened today, though, we were out the door.   

The trouble is with that -- with the morning walk -- is this:  Recreational walkers like Miss Belle and me have been banned from the golf course.  Our possible routes are paved  and mostly dead ends.  And worse, the views make camera work a challenge.  It's hard to avoid open garage doors, parked cars and power lines.

Continuing to pout, it seemed to me, would do nothing but put an end to the wonder of the new day, the new week, the new month.  Two months of lamenting the ban is entirely sufficient.  Without the unobstructed views of the tended course, what could I find to photograph -- besides, of course, leaves (see today's flickr image) and flowers, edges and curves, little things all? 

The choice was mine:  Pout or pay attention ...

There was --  is -- plenty to see.  Absolutely.  We came up a long slope and looked right.  The ground fog warmly illuminated by the sun, the pine and myrtle back lit, the sun peeking through the greenery.  I couldn't have asked for a prettier or inviting scene.  Belle and I stayed in that spot until the magic ended. 

And, I could have missed it -- by not going for the walk, by believing my worst, awful, negative self, by locking in on my expectations.  It sounds trite, but our expectations can limit us terribly.  While we keep our eyes focused on them, we miss the real and wonderful and invigorating view.  How I don't want to do that. 

The sky's the limit.  Happy September!

Life got in the way of my best intentions this week. One of those intentions was a post, or maybe two, to the blog. Day by day I highlighted on "the list" those items I'd accomplished. There sat "blog" under the Monday heading, increasingly by itself, decidedly un-colorful. Undone.

This morning, as I sat at the kitchen counter, sipping that delightful first cup of coffee and writing in my journal, I wondered at my willingness to let that particular item go. Why did I not write? Being on a regular schedule with the blog is something I am fairly convinced I want. A host of tasks important and not so important crowded it out, pushed their way to the front. And, I let them.

As I pondered all this I wrote "Why am I so reluctant to take the plunge? I'm not exactly leaping in with both feet here." 

Thinking about plunging is what brought to mind those trips into the Quetico Provencial Park, and led me to the photograph albums. But, not to another day of procrastination, of not writing. Not this time.

We were in the wilderness on these trips. With nothing but what we could carry.  With no way to get anywhere except in those canoes. We cooked over a fire and slept in tents. There being no facilities, we walked the "garden path" regularly. And, to bathe? One took the plunge -- into that clean, clear, cold water.

Because of the cold and my negative anticipation, I put it off for days on that first trip in 1991. I put it off until I couldn't stand myself another minute. With all the courage and determination I could muster, I leapt into a deep hole feet first and came up with a gasping scream. Which turned into shouts of triumph and maybe even joy. I'd done it! The hardest part was simply talking myself out of putting it off any longer. It wasn't as hard or as awful as I'd let myself imagine it would be.

Nothing but refreshing and worth it. So worth it.

"Blog" will appear early on a list this week. I shall remember Quetico and that first bath before I decide to take up another item in its place. 

Now, to go back to Monday's list with the highlighter! Yay.   

I have been working toward resuming blog writing for some time. As the moment approached to do the deed, I found myself face to face with the "how to start" dilemma -- which included what to call this new space, trying to be clear about why I want to write, and a host of other niggly things.

This isn't my first blog. I wrote VicarRidge during the last years I worked full time. Meanderings was intended to be a celebration of more footloose days after I stopped working.*  Neither of those efforts ended deliberately; I consider neither a failure. They simply ran down as I ran out of things to say and ran out of energy. That Write Light will be any different remains to be seen.

So, a blog about photography, which for me is a practice of contemplating light. A blog about observing life, which for me is a practice primarily of monitoring my own attitude. You will read lots more about that -- the attitude, I promise. In fact, despite the title I gave this post, I'm not really asking permission to begin again and I'm not inwardly snarling at myself for having arrived at a third beginning. Perhaps "three strikes and you're out" is no more accurate than "third try's the charm." 

I chose the photograph deliberately. It was made two years and seven days ago in Ward, South Carolina, on what used to be a regular driving route.  Almost without fail, I'd see those tracks and think I should stop. On that day I did.  The gleaming of the late afternoon sun on those rails was too much of a draw for me to tell myself yet again that I'd stop another time.

Now, I see all sorts of things wrong with the image.  The road crosses too near the horizontal center, bisecting the scene too evenly.  There's too much out-of-focus track in the foreground.  The highlights, especially along the rails, are clipped.  In other words, I would compose it differently now and I'd probably develop it differently, too.  After all, I know more about photography and the processing software in 2014 than I did two years ago.  And, I am a different person. These tracks though Ward help me remember and smile at that. 

Maybe one day soon I'll time a trip to stop in Ward close to sunset and photograph those tracks again.  But in the meantime, as I start over, I didn't make a new image and I didn't edit the old one. Letting it be seems right.

My big question?  Yes, I'd approach a new photograph of this scene differently now.  Will I approach writing a blog differently, as well?  We'll see, so stay tuned.




* Both previous blogs are available under the Blogs tag.