March 3, 2015

March 3, 2015

All photos are mine unless otherwise noted.

To see images full screen click on any photo.


    We spent the weekend with the Eastern Maine Camera Club in Bar Harbor, Acadia, and the environs of Mount Desert Island. A good group of people, easy to be with and most welcoming and helpful answering any questions that arose about anything not just photography. People here in Maine gravitate toward community and truly enjoy being with like-minded people. I am most fortunate to have found this community where the love of photography is shared and enjoyed. 

   The first eight images are from this trip.

" The Present Moment always stands long enough 

for the photographer it has chosen. "

                                                                                                       Minor White

Fall in love with light.

Allow the soul to be illuminated, creating aliveness 

with the open eyes of the heart

as you reach out to the illuminated subject -

not with the camera but with every breath you take,

searching and holding what is there,

and there, and there.

The camera is only a device to record the What Is -

The moment at hand is all that is important.

Images taken only serve to prompt memory,

of what was truly seen

and truly experienced.

The morning light welcomes the new day once again

- The tree that went to sea -

If the door to transcendence is closed,

take the ladder to where you are going.

   I heard a loud hammering a few feet away and there was a Pileated Woodpecker stopping for lunch!  17-19 inches beak to tail with a 30 inch wingspan - bores into trees for insects and often tears strips of bark away to get at food. This is a big bird.

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- Community get-together -

- Tired of Winter this house owner put out a sign -

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Some rural humor:

Until next post,

            Bill Lagerstrom

February 22, 2015

February 22, 2015

All photos are mine unless otherwise noted.

To view full screen click on any image.

   I have begun to meet with a group of people who gather in the farm house of an Episcopal priest who lives in a small town by the name of Freedom, here in Maine, about thirty miles from where we have our home. These are intentional people and I will join them every week, God willing. Rick, who returned here to be with his mother and family in the house he grew up in is semi-retired and has opened his house to this group - a major blessing to be sure. 

   The town of Freedom is tiny with a 2112 census population of only 716 which says one ought not to blink when passing through town center. New England has been grown to a great degree with small towns and people who would not live anywhere else having found the right place to spend their lives in. Some may travel and work elsewhere for awhile, many years perhaps, but some return to Maine and find home here, while others are ex-patriots of another part of the country as we are. I have heard this story of return quite a few times and I understand after ten years why they come back, and why I will never leave. There is no other part of the East Coast that has the same appeal for me. Space to breathe and grow without the stress of a big city, good people who are not the stereotyped distant New Englanders of common lore, viable community, and for the most part non-existent traffic issues. 

    All the photos below were taken in the township of Freedom a few days ago.

    

Homeward bound

    

 Every where I go I leave tracks,

Footprints, words, resentments, joys, all echoing endlessly.

My scent is left behind in lingering distant memories –

Some for the compost pile hoping to nourish others,

Some are only rubbish, residues of the ego.

"Be useful." the Buddhist Nun said.

Adding, "That is all your beginnings. Be useful."

Understanding the directives I set out on the path,

Seeking the place of the Present Moment;

Learning to be useful to myself so I may be useful to others.

Finding the gales of the Spirit's Wind in the Present Moment,

Past glories and failures are blown to the horizon behind –

The future has become inaccessible to the demanding self.

Keeping these feet on Holy Ground while in Love's Raging Storm,

This moment, so hard to find, becomes the Gift of Sanctuary.

                                                                          Bill Lagerstrom 2010

The rain does not practice falling,

Nor does it rehearse its journey after the fall;

To the stream, and the rivers and ocean to come –

Rain surrenders, and goes with the flow.

The currents of life are caught only in this Present Moment,

Not in what has already happened, not in what may happen.

Stand on the cliffs of what has past, and what will pass,

Then, be a raindrop falling into surrender, to all that is God.

     Once we find the first small stream after yielding to Gravity,

The Sacred Now will be Our Companion always –

What is behind is gone, what is ahead,

Is where we will be when we arrive.

Practice nothing !

Dive in !

Become one,

   with The Living Waters.

                                                          Bill Lagerstrom  2010

Red sky in morn,

travelers on the seas of Winter

be warned,

snow is always on the way.

Some Humor: (Big city and small town.)

Peace until next post,

                             Bill Lagerstrom

February 13, 2015

February 13, 2015

All photos are mine unless otherwise noted.

To see images full screen click on any photo.

   Snow, snow, everywhere, piled so high that it is not possible with the short show shoes we have to walk without sinking at least a foot with every step. With another twenty plus inches on the way this weekend I offered to buy a ladder so we could climb on top of the snow in case of emergency. It is not really that bad, it's just what is. A local reporter asked a waitress in a downtown Bangor restaurant how she coped with the "terrible conditions outside." Her reply was classic as she said, "Look, it's Maine. We know how to deal with Winter" Sweet revenge on the weather terrorists that abound on every air wave predicting the worst as soon as Winter sends the gifts of white to cover the land once again.

    The first image below shows the snow that fell in the five days after January 28th of this year. The squirrels have an easy time of getting to the feeders along with a red squirrel who burrows under the show each year. A day after this photo was taken this critter exited directly under the feeders. A wise survivor of the backyard tempests. 

    To date I am told we have had 97 inches of snow - proof that the Farmers Almanac was correct in its predictions for this 2014-15 season. The weather people predicted a mild winter last Fall. Tonight we will hit minus 12 degrees which is not a low mark - several years ago we hot 25 below for a stretch. 

   "It's Maine. We know how to deal with Winter." I for one do enjoy the weather and the wonder of the snow covering the ground everywhere, never getting the city patina of dirt and car exhaust that prevails in every metropolis where snow falls.                     

I will sit on the chair in three or four months ...hopefully.

A view of a country road in the town we live in.

Lee arriving home from work exiting from her car 

which is fully dressed in snow tires.

A scene just a mile of two away from our place.

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- Stop –

Stop.

Look around.

This, is where you have been heading,

this Present Moment –

Journey's end.

Welcome Home.

One needs to stop to know arrival,

this day, this moment, this place.

All else is ego's constructions,

dreams of destination,

ever just out of reach.

                            Bill Lagerstrom, 2015

     "I've lived too long where I can be reached by the world."

                                                                                 Rumi

A redpoll on the backyard feeder.

   This bird travels in large flocks, our visitors have around 70-80 that visit 

twice or more each day. They are an irruptive species, meaning that there is not any rhythm to their migration to specific places each season. We haven't seen them for 2-3 years until this Winter. 

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Three photos from the museum at Colby College in Waterville, Maine, 

last weekend.

Something about the somewhat dated leisure society.

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     Look at a soap bubble, the kind children blow into the air,

     Colors, an image of the scene outside its fragile life appears inside.

     Then, suddenly it bursts apart, leaving no trace of what was.

     The air of the world was its only support, brief fleeting beauty.

     The life external to our true nature has a short span,

     Offering only brief encounters with the heart's senses –

     Destroying itself quickly lest it is found to be fraudulent.

     Yet, each meeting with the Ineffable, however transient,

     Is God leading us to the place where all becomes Reality.

                                                          Bill Lagerstrom , 2015

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Some humor:

   

   Peace until next post,

                         Bill Lagerstrom