Saturday Sojourn - Boston, Massachusetts

Come with me as I revisit some of the interesting and beauty-filled places I've been on my travels. Of course this means the actual trips I've taken, but it might also include trips of the virtual kind, from books, to movies, to great escapes through performances I've seen.

I love Saturday... a day of rest and ease and fun (usually) for me. I hope to share a bit of that feeling with you each week.

"It might be a good idea if the various countries of the world would occasionally swap history books, just to see what other people are doing with the same set of facts." - Bill Vaughan

If you enjoy history, food, music, art, and architecture, go to Boston, Massachusetts. End of story. It's as simple as that. Whether you have a day or a month, every minute will be well spent.

My daughter was moving to Maine in 2009, and so the Titan of Industry (husband) and The Scholar (#2 son) were conscripted into service to drive the little moving van filled with her belongings, while Andrea and I drove her little Dodge Caliber, filled to the brim, across the nine states to get there.

Convincing the Titan to go was easy enough (after all, we have only one daughter, and she has him sufficiently wrapped around her little finger). The trick was to convince The Scholar to leave the cozy confines of home to spend a few days in a small truck cab alone with the Titan .

Being the clever mother that I am, I knew the secret siren song that would call to The Scholar's heart...history. I promised a day long stop in Boston, and we were on. The Scholar could not refuse.

One day was hardly enough to begin to taste the flavor of this bright city, but we did our best. It was a marathon day of walking, eating, ferrying, and exploring, and yet we barely scratched the surface.

Few cities can compare with the depth and breadth of its historical significance, but combined with the great cafés, bars, and pubs...well, none can compare.

These photos were taken along the Freedom Trail, a 2.5 mile long walk along cobblestone streets in the heart of the city that lead up to the monument on Bunker Hill.  It's my kind of walking tour...one in which you choose your own pace, and your own pubs at which to stop along the way. The best part for me was the lovely brass directional plaques (photo above) imbedded in the streets, preventing even the most directionally challenged (me) to arrive where they intend.

What a memorable experience. If you have the chance to walk the Freedom Trail, I can guarantee you a fabulous experience.  The Scholar was in his glory, loving every moment of this very special day...well, up until the moment when he had to get back into the truck cabin with the Titan.






Historic buildings are nestled in among the modern.








Beautiful Boston skyline








Charming ethnic neighborhoods fill the city





Architecture of every style and period  are beautifully
 preserved and coexist in harmony








Boston Harbor







Granary Burying Ground and others like it are 
The resting place for near nameless children...









Heroes of American history...
John Hancock tombstone





...and intrepid pioneers
Tomb of Mary Chilton Winslow
First European female to set foot on Plymouth soil in 1620









The Old North Church from Paul Revere's Ride








The light filled interior of Old North Church









The organ loft in Old North Church







U.S.S. Constitution


Below is a link to a great performance of the Boston Pops Orchestra. Before you scoff at the obvious triteness, let me ask you; when was the last time you saw concert violinist Gil Shahon, the Boston Pops, and Arlo Guthrie together? Guthrie shares his humor, his ability as a pianist, and his own composition in this entertaining performance.

Try as I might to figure out how to embed this one, it couldn't be done. At least not by me. So please click on the link and give it a look. Enjoy...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=94QfeCIT_d8&feature=related

Heeding the Messenger

"There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness but of power. They are messengers of overwhelming grief and of unspeakable love." - Washington Irving



Après la Faute - Jean Bèraud, c.1885, oil on canvas
National Gallery, London


My heart is not smiling today. In fact, it's aching terribly for a dear friend who suffered a great loss yesterday. To pretend otherwise would be dishonest and disloyal. And yet I want to share my thoughts. I hope you understand.

To know that a friend is grieving is difficult enough, but when distance separates us at a time like this, it's wrenching. The truth of it is that there is not much one can really do but offer a warm hug, an arm around a shoulder, or a look of understanding, but we want to be there all the same.

Compassion rises up in us at times like this and we long to gather together to protect those that are hurting and DO something. If we were together--my friend and I, and all our mutual friends--we would cook. We would cook a lot of great, hot, comforting food. We would then gather at a huge table to break bread and raise a toast to the departed.  We'd reminisce, and laugh and sing and dance...and cry. Together.

Some of us gathered virtually last night to do just that. It was impromptu, and loving, and even fun. We drank martinis and wine, and toasted life, toasted our friendships, and toasted the dearly departed. Knowing that our friend was with family during this time of crisis was comforting, but I was comforted that much more by knowing that some of us had gathered together around our big virtual table to share our grief and our love for one another, too .

I have shed my sacred tears, and expect more to come, because, as Irving said, they are not a mark of weakness. They are the messengers of power...the power of unspeakable love and the power of overwhelming grief. They say we love and feel and hurt. They say we're human.

And though I cannot yet reach out to my dear friend with a warm hug, an arm around a shoulder, or a look of understanding, I know it doesn't really matter. We're together anyway.

Today, L'chaim!

"I know that the arms of friendship are long enough to reach from the one end of the world to the other" -  Michel de Montaigne

The following music is and excerpt of "Requiem" by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. This section is called the "Lacrimosa" which means "Tearful."

Be Still and Wait

Purple Night - Weldon Spring 2/2/11

I said to my soul, be still, and wait...

So the darkness shall be the light,

and the stillness the dancing. - T.S. Elliot

Be still. Wait.

Three insignificant words create two small instructions, and yet on some days they  are the most impossible to understand, let alone accomplish.

We are such a busy, busy people. We seem to think at times that our 'busy-ness' is a sign of how important or worthy we are. Be still? Our puritan genes rebel at the notion, equating it with idleness.

We are also an impatient people. Our drive and determination, which serves us so well in many situations, also serves to make us want what we want when we want it. Delayed gratification is an ancient philosophy to many who grew up in recent decades. Wait? The very word's anathema to us.

But what if, by being still, we can see the darkness become light?

What if, by waiting, we can witness the stillness become the dancing?

It is an exercise in discipline to be still. It takes a willingness to silence the chatter, to seek peace, and to look inwardly. It requires time.

It is an exercise in faith to wait. Knowing  that there is a transformation yet to come, a dance to come from stillness,  requires us to believe.

Storms rage. Governments topple. Families are in crisis. I'm not suggesting naively that we can turn all our problems around by sitting in a lotus position and thinking happy thoughts.  What I am asking is this; can finding a few minutes of stillness each day help you to feel more calm in the face of our difficulties? Can acquiring the ability to wait help us to see what may eventually transpire?

I believe it can.

Today I encourage you to be still and wait.

The music selection is Chopin's Nocturne (the word 'nocturne' means "painting of a night scene") in F sharp Major, Opus 15 No. 2. It's played by Polish pianist Krystian Zimerman, whom many consider to be one of the world'g greatest living pianists. What I love about him is the way he expresses himself completely as he plays, not just with his hands, but with his entire soul. Watch his face as he plays.

Though one can sense the stillness of the night in this nocturne, we also hear the winds of a storm brewing, and yet Chopin brings us back to peace in the end. He seems to be saying, "just wait...the dance is coming."

Brigid's Gate

Brigid's Gate - Weldon Spring, Missouri

"A hush is over everything, Silent as women wait for love; The world is waiting for the spring." - Sara Teasdale


Brigid’s Gate
Go out into
The chiffon sky
Where waits the frosty air.

To see the ice
On yonder oak,
Entangled in her hair.


Walk down the path,
Now clad in white,
And greet the misty morn.


For Winter’s day
Has come and gone,
And Spring will soon be born.


Now look among
The crystal trees,
So regal and so fair.


And find the gate
That guards her realm,
And I will meet you there.


She beckons us,
To come her way
With pansy and primrose.


Delighting us
With song and verse
And poetry of prose.


Oh, leave the weary night behind,
Come toward the dawn,
She sings,


She smiles gently,
Embraces us,
And we have found the Spring.

Joellen Floyd
 
 
Today may you find a glimpse of Spring.
 

not a soft white damn

the snow doesn't give a soft white damn

whom it touches. ~e.e. cummings

Ice Palace - Weldon Spring, February 1, 2011

I suppose that's true of ice, as well. It certainly doesn't seem to give a crystal clear damn about what it's touching here in Weldon Spring this morning.

I've been up since pre-dawn, listening to the ominous tink-tink-tinkly sound of the ice pellets hitting every surface ...the roof, the gutters, the tree limbs and power lines.  If I didn't know better, I'd think it to be a lovely sound, almost melodic. But I know better.

The sun is struggling to show signs of daylight now, and the entire atmosphere is filled with a deep blue glow. The ice, harsh and sharp and biting, has left a strange blurry softness around all the edges of the scenery. It's as if the view from every window is a photograph slightly out of focus.

This storm is a defiant one, coming in on its own terms, and not as the oh-so-earnest weather forecasters have predicted.  It's building slowly, and yet I feel its power. I think it means to end with a great crescendo of white. We'll see.

Today, the entire family will stay home. The Titan of Business (hubby) will, I suspect, have the phone to his ear all day. The Other Titan of Business (son #1) will, too. The Scholar (son #2) will be available as Our Personal Reference Book, and the Beauty (son #1's wife), will catch up on laundry and such.  

I plan on getting out a stack of jigsaw puzzles and keeping  Little Man and Little Sister busy with them today. I think we'll have a few days to put them together.

Jigsaw Puzzle "Monet's Water Lilies"

My friend Linda, of "Welcome To" blog in southern Ontario, posted a yummy looking recipe for apple pie complete with a topping involving maple syrup and yogurt...I think I'll get the little helpers in the kitchen for that one, too. Doesn't it look divine?

http://livingintheeasternwoodlands.blogspot.com/2011/01/if-apple-pie-can-be-good-for-you-this.html 

I'd also like to get some photos of the happenings outside my door, but I fear I would need spiked boots for that, something I forgot to pick up when I went to the market for the requisite bread, milk, and eggs.  We'll see about that, too.

In the meantime, the falling ice has picked up again, and the tink-tink-tinkly sound is getting louder. I'm waiting for the inevitable sound of branches buckling under its weight. Poor trees.

The sparrows and wrens and finches are beginning to gather at the feeder out back and I see it needs more thistle seed and suet. Poor birds.  Maybe I can dig out my old ice skates and get out there to feed them.

I wish you the warmth and comfort of home today.