copyright © reserved 2010, Richard Lovison

I read a book, it seems ages ago, entitled Behaving as if the God in all Life Mattered by Machaelle Wright. It was at a time when I was caretaker for the Albert Schweitzer Center, a museum dedicated to the memory of Dr. Schweitzer. Machaelle’s philosophy in many ways is in parallel to Dr. Schweitzer’s “reverence for life”.

In the small community my wife and I reside in there are those who consider the vegetation growing in Shaw Pond, a small body of water near our home, an annoyance. I can understand their position as many of them choose to swim in Shaw Pond as well as use motor boats.

copyright © reserved 2010, Richard Lovison

I personally see the body of water as a peaceful pond, utilized by beavers, fish and snakes, visited by geese and populated with many forms of vegetation in the water along its shores… a beautiful body of water to canoe or kayak in. Those that wish to use motor boats and choose to swim see a need to trap and kill the beavers, chase off the geese and throw endless sums of money at what seems a losing battle of destroying a couple of invasive species of vegetation through the use of toxic chemicals or other less harmful methods.

I am not so sure this is a great idea. It seems so radical and lacks balance but I guess that’s just one person’s opinion. It just seems to me that the world has lost its mind. Nothing seems to be considered sacred. Everything can be made to bend to whatever shape to suit our will no matter what the consequence. I don’t know, maybe it has always been this way, though in my opinion, if we don’t soon change our ways, we can kiss this world’s natural wonders as well as all that lives, goodbye.

copyright © reserved 2010, Richard Lovison

“Who will provide the grand design?
What is yours and what is mine?
‘Cause there is no more new frontier
We have got to make it here

We satisfy our endless needs and
justify our bloody deeds,
in the name of destiny and the name
of God

And you can see them there,
On Sunday morning
They stand up and sing about
what it’s like up there
They call it paradise
I don’t know why
You call someplace paradise,
kiss it goodbye”

The Last Resort – Eagles

Pure Joy; copyright © NBC

What a beautiful though awkward moment last night when the Blackhawks finally won the Stanley Cup. Instead of jumping for joy at the precise instant Patrick Kane’s shot landed inside the Philadelphia Flyers net in overtime, I was stunned and confused. It seemed the puck should have been stopped or pushed wide of the net though the puck wasn’t visible nor had the goal judge or referee indicated a goal. The only one who knew for sure a goal was scored was Patrick Kane. He immediately made a dash for the other end of the ice, celebrating with immense joy while everyone else was as stunned as I was.

When the video review showed what really happened, it had finally sunk in… these guys had done it. They had brought the Stanley Cup back to Chicago after 49 years.

I was only five years of age in 1961 when the Hawks last won the Stanley Cup. I don’t recall watching any of the series with other family members though I do remember watching them lose to Montreal back in the 70′s and later to Pittsburgh back in the 90′s in the Stanley Cup finals. So this win was special. And it couldn’t have happened to a better bunch of guys.

The above image says it all. The happiness on that young girl’s face while John Madden helped her hold the cup sums up the feelings of all that played for that moment and for all that supported them.

And I bet some of you reading this post were wondering what this all has to do with photography. Here is an explanation to satisfy your curiosity. The digital image was taken of an old CRT television screen (yes, we still live in the stone age) at 1/25th of a second (click here for an explanation of why this speed was chosen) with a bit of “blur” applied (to minimize picture artifacts) in CS2.

Illusion; copyright © reserved 2005-2010, Richard Lovison

“We accept the reality of the world with which we are presented.”

Quite possibly there lies a miraculous truth, hidden ever so slightly, just under the perceived surface of our everyday world.

“…and in case I don’t see ya, good afternoon, good evening, and good night!”

The Sun – © copyright Mary Oliver

Have you ever seen
anything
in your life
more wonderful

than the way the sun,
every evening,
relaxed and easy,
floats toward the horizon

and into the clouds or the hills,
or the rumpled sea,

Cape Cod Sunset (Herring Cove Beach); copyright © reserved 2007-2010, Richard Lovison

and is gone–
and how it slides again

out of the blackness,
every morning,
on the other side of the world,
like a red flower

Cape Cod Sunrise (Dennis Port); copyright © reserved 2006-2010, Richard Lovison

streaming upward on its heavenly oils,
say, on a morning in early summer,
at its perfect imperial distance–
and have you ever felt for anything
such wild love–
do you think there is anywhere, in any language,
a word billowing enough
for the pleasure

that fills you,
as the sun
reaches out,
as it warms you

as you stand there,
empty-handed–
or have you too
turned from this world–

or have you too
gone crazy
for power,
for things?

***************************************************************

There are moments, very precious moments that when they happen, burn themselves into the very core of my being… life altering moments. Being presented with a book of poetry by Mary Oliver by the one I love was one of those moments.

I have never been one to be drawn to poetry. For some reason the way the words were usually arranged would cause mental short circuits and then frustration would set in.

This time was different. Immediately upon opening the book and reading the words within I felt at home. There were a number of passages that invoked such intense feelings that I literally cried out in joy and laughter.

I had never seen a sunrise or sunset with an unobstructed horizon before visiting Cape Cod in 2006. I cannot adequately put into words what I felt upon viewing such miracles though I can assure you, I didn’t leave Cape Cod the same person.

I have turned many times from the natural world in my own pursuit of “power and things.” I have weakened the connection though thankfully, never severed it. It’s time to return “home” for good and find my place “in the family of things.”

Thank you Mary.