Meditations on Place and Time

 

Along the Road

Thoughts . . . like a country road—it takes you somewhere interesting, and these meditations in and of the city in which I live and the places I frequent. . . .

2/21

In this late-February day, only the last vestiges of snow (in banks, shoveled into piles) are left after a long freeze and storm.

Melted gradually, seemed out of place. . . .

But things, in the created world, take time to change—sometimes changing so slow it is barely visible. 

But change they do, and we find there is order and restoration in the universe once again.

3/21

The street lights fail to diminish the glow of downtown—skyscraper and far-off radio-tower lights—showing signs of civilization both near and far. . .

Reminds me of, as a kid, coming home from vacation with my sister and I lying down in the back of our Volvo station wagon, seeing street signs and street lights until we finally turn the corner onto our street, into a welcome and quiet, as-if-waiting house, bringing feelings of the comfort of return to what is familiar, but not quite wanting to let go of the fun and adventure also of seeing family in a far-away state.

3/21

Here in The Dalles, we meet—you and I, or you and someone else—at the frontier, at the confluence of paths, like the name says, of different currents and rapids gliding over rocks and between shores. . . .

Friendly people, an historic downtown: we meet kind of an openness—open people—open to the sky, to the mountains and river nearby.

Kids grow up there wanting to push their borders, expand beyond, to places like Portland—if not to live there, at least to visit this bustling city with all of its cosmopolitan vibe and attractions.

3/25/21

. . . Here we were, in the parking lot of Carl’s Jr., 

Praying for each other, praying for our families, for the good things change has brought our way, trusting our Maker truly cares for us. . . .

4/21

Seeing the Denny’s where so many of the older generation frequent, I’m reminded of each generation’s life, of their aspirations, their accomplishments and legacy. . . .

The heritage we share—how it matters, the details as well as the esprit de corps, the “ebb and flow” of relationship and communication.

10/21

Tonight the air is warm and balmy in this late-October, mid-fall day, after rain.

Leaves of various types cover the streets . . .

Children are beginning to get used to school and have anticipation of trick-or-treating or other activities on Halloween.

Families together think of fall activities—get-togethers with friends and hikes, reminding us again of what is most important.

2/22

Tonight, I’m thankful for the friendly man who “checked me out” at the food register, who seemed to “see” me, although we had never met before. . . 

That my mom was willing to stop here, to get some berries.

. . . For the friendly nurse at the orthopedic doctor’s office, for getting through a somewhat-painful appointment, for growing to learn and live in love.

2/22/22

This winter is definitely warmer than last winter, when we had the huge snowstorm.  Now, by looks but not in temperature, it seems to be spring or summer. . . .

Flowers are already shooting upward in various “earth colors”— yellow, purple, pink, light green, lavender, orange, white and various shades of blue.

 

2/24/22

The Northern Flicker outside my window nibbles and pecks at the vegetation in the garden box.

“Spring is coming!” It seems to herald—“Look all about and you will see signs of life—of rebirth and blossoming.”

3/11/22

Mom and I went to the French Quarter in Multnomah Village. . . I had a good time hanging out, being in the moment, seeing people with their dogs. . . .

Getting my muscles massaged. . . . My sister had gotten us gift certificates for massages, and it was time to use them. . . .

. . . hanging out, enjoying the decor, the friendly people and the food carts. . . .

Eating, making memories. . .

All in all, I would say this was a day of discovering a new “esprit de corps.”