"Islands are different than continents--not that long ago, within my grandfather's lifetime even, the only way to get to them was by boat. Flying wasn't an option....You had to sail. Not only that, I think the same thing holds true today, you've still got to sail to these places to truly appreciate them."
--Andy Schell, "Islands in the Atlantic" for Sail Magazine, August 2019
The concept of seasons has been on my mind lately, perhaps it is the start of summer that has me thinking. However, I have been reflecting not so much on the annual seasons, but the seasons of life. Some are long and some are short, and I am much more aware of these seasons of life than ever before. I think of a number of seasons in my personal life:
In the midst of these seasons, the experiences and associated feelings seem permanent: injuries will never heal, wedding invitations will come every year, dogs will play forever. But then these seasons end, and strangely, as time passes, the very opposite occurs: the seasons which occupied so much of our lives now feel very distant.
Time flows by. Like water in your hands, we can never hold onto it. I believe photography is a coping mechanism that helps us deal with the stress of passing time: we can capture images—freeze moments in time—that live permanently on the screen or paper. Grandma is still in the garden, babies are still babies, and summer is still summer.
I loved living in the Caribbean, the weather was essentially the same every day and the hours of sunlight changed very little from winter to summer. I remember returning home several times from dog walks, wiping sweat from my face, and looking up and seeing football on TV. I would be very confused, because it was still “summer” outside. The flow of time was far less perceptible there and I felt at peace. For example, I didn’t’ feel the pressure in August to pack in as much summer activities as I could as the days began to shorten. When living in the Caribbean, if I didn’t do something “fun” this weekend, it didn’t matter, because there were 51 other weekends with virtually the same conditions. Unfortunately, that season of my life has passed, but I have to admit, I wouldn’t mind revisiting it again someday—it was such a calm, happy time.
Today, I find myself in a season that is hard to define. Perhaps it is best described as a season of wisdom—a time to both pursue greater knowledge—through reading, travel, conversation, experience—and a time to share what I have learned with the next generation. I am enjoying this season, although I would prefer to be somewhere like the Caribbean where I do not feel the strong current of time passing by. And I wonder what season is next and what it will hold for me.
On Wednesday, June 5th at 8am local time, US Army Rangers will scale the cliffs of Pointe du Hoc to honor the WW2 Rangers from Operation Overlord and the D-Day Operations. You can watch the live stream at www.facebook.com/USArmyEurope/ or watch it afterwards on their Facebook page. I ask that you take a few moments to watch and perhaps share this with the younger people in your lives. June 6th marks the 75th anniversary of the D-Day landings in Normandy. There are almost 11,000 interred at the Normandy American Cemetery alone. It is in remembering that we express our gratitude.
I just finished reading "Brief Answers to Big Questions" by Dr. Stephen Hawking. It is a very short book, with brief chapters. I would read one of the chapters before going to sleep, but then I found I was up for several hours wrestling with the information. His first big question, “Is there a God?” You can forget about going to sleep for a few nights after reading that one.
At the end, he provides one of many quotes that stood out to me:
"And one final point--we never really know where the next great scientific discovery will come from, nor who will make it. Opening up the thrill and wonder of scientific discovery, creating innovative and accessible ways to reach out to the widest young audience possible, greatly increases the chances of finding and inspiring the new Einstein. Wherever she might be."