I had the best time.

Before Belle and I set out on our morning walk I checked email for details about today's prompt in Susannah Conway's 2014 August Break community project.  Oh, my ...  "today is."  Previous days certainly have been easier was my first thought.

I gathered up our stuff: plastic bag, leash, camera.  Today is.  Today is.  What?

Well, first of all I've been in something of a fog the last few weeks.  Head down.  Doing what I had to do.  Not not OK.  But, not with it either.  I've really tired to pin down reasons, to understand, to move on -- beyond whatever.  But, I've been a little stuck.

Today?  An "aha" before we reached the end of the -- very short -- driveway.  I don't like going for walks anymore.  I don't like going for walks anymore.  We moved here a year ago and walking the golf course before it opens and after it closes has been a lovely priority, an anchor for my days.  Yes, I did know that the owner of the course doesn't like recreational walkers.  And, yes, I had read the prohibition against it in the "Declarations of Rights, Restrictions, Affirmative Obligations, and Conditions Which Constitute Covenants Running with Certain Lands of Golden Hills, Inc."  (Couldn't resist charming you with that title.)

But, there's always a but ...  Lots of people quietly walk the course anyway.  Like Belle and Janet.

In early July all homeowners received a friendly reminder from the course owner which outlined all the "thou shalt nots" involved in living here.  Not wanting somehow, somewhere, someway to be made an example of I took the walking rule to heart.  Belle and I now traverse the narrow streets, which we have to share with cars and their drivers.

It was this morning that it hit me just how much I miss it.  The water; the birds, animals, insects; moving water in Twelve Mile Creek; early morning sunlight glancing across clipped greens; the closeness to the woods; the leading lines of the cart paths; the quite places simply to stand and look. 

By no means am I blaming my 2014 summer fog on the owner of Golden Hills.  Fogs are just part of life, part of the deal.  I am, however, realizing that my current state might have been less extreme had I not been relegated to the pavement.  Had I had the comfort of more nature, of less busy surroundings.  

This post's title mentions turning a corner.  Its first sentence declared I had a good time.  I think I have.  I did.  With the photo prompt for the day as my guide I looked for and made photographs of the sadness, or the powerlessness I feel, photographs of how much I don't like being put off the course, photographs of the things that tempt me to grind my teeth or to whine or to act out.  Miraculously I do feel better. 

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.