The
evil humidity let up for the weekend, so it was possible
to breathe. It's a little humid today, but not nearly as
oppressive as it was last week. It's actually possible to
sit in my study and use the computer without sweltering,
though I am still worried about the flaky power as I hear
distant rumbles of thunder.
Anyway, I can sort of hold my
camera steady and take pictures now. It will be a shame
to be unable to do that again for three months after the
rotator cuff surgery but such is life. Seeing the movie,
Rivers
and Tides, about
installation artist Andy Goldsworthy made me want to take
pictures on Saturday. It also made me look at
Waterfire
differently. I can never take enough photos of Waterfire.
I keep trying to get the definitive image, which of
course I can't ever do. Fire moves. Water moves. Water
and fire and boats and people interact. Then there's the
smell of smoke and the sound of the music. No still photo
can ever capture what the reflections of the fires do in
the wake of the gondola or the water taxi or the stoker
boat when they come around to put more wood on the fires.
No still photo can ever capture the moment when the wind
changes and the smoke blows in your face and smells like
a whole childhood summer of campfires at Otter River. But
I take pictures anyway.
When
camping at Otter River back then I used to stare into the
fire, into the red hot spaces between the logs, and
imagine small fire people who could walk around in those
passageways and explore them as they changed. I wished I
could be a fire person and walk in those spaces too. I
talked about that one night by a camp fire in New Mexico
at a Nightwalking workshop, totally unaware than the
people running the program had planned a firewalk for the
end of the workshop. So I kind of got my wish - walking
into and exploring the fire. It was a bed of hot coals
after the fire had burned down, not flames, but it was
definitely fire. And yes, it is possible to walk barefoot
across hot coals and not get burned. I'm not sure if it
changed my life, but it was kind of fun.
Speaking of Otter River, I was
leafing through the latest issue of Travel and
Leisure and came across an article on luxury camping.
Leaving aside that "luxury camping" is an oxymoron, I was
amazed to see Otter River State Park, Baldwinville,
Massachusetts on the list of campgrounds with special
amenities for luxury camping. It turns out they now have
yurts, which you can rent for $30 a night, with
electricity. They sleep six. I immediately set down the
magazine, powered up the computer, and fired off email to
BiB (No Prob Bob) and Kevin with this unbelievable news.
I figured Donald and Thomas wouldn't remember enough
about Otter River to be amazed/amused at its ascent to
luxury status. I wonder if the road between there and
Lake Dennison is paved now.
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Today's Reading
The Natural History of Moray by Charles St. John,
In the Land of the Blue Poppies by Frank Kingdon
Ward, Birding on Borrowed Time by Phoebe
Snetsinger
This Year's Reading
2003
Book List
Today's Starting
Pitcher
Sox have an off day
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