6th Annual Photo Alphabet – Elephants to Highways

E is for Elephants.

Magic Kingdom

Flying Elephants © 2013 Bo Mackison

Realizing a dream can be as unlikely as seeing a flying elephant.

Once upon a time, I used to ignore the elephant in the living room. Eventually I accepted the elephant, figured out what needed to be done about its occupancy, and I did the work.

Now I go in search of flying elephants.

And, once in a while, I find one!

~~~

F is for Freedom.

Pelicans in Flight, Kure Beach North Carolina

Free Flight © 2013 Bo Mackison

“. . . as we fly, we still may not know where we are going to. But the miracle is in the unfolding of the wings. You may not know where you’re going, but you know that so long as you spread your wings, the winds will carry you.” ~ C. Joybell C.

There is a certain freedom that comes with spreading your wings and taking flight.

Whether that flight is to a new country, a new home, or a new idea, embarking on a new beginning has a freeing quality. One can never leave the past entirely, but dragging it all along makes for slow travel. Leaving the baggage behind makes it easier to let “the winds carry you.”

~~~

G is for Gifts and Grandmothers.

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Grandmother © 2013 Bo Mackison

I grew up in a house filled with grandmothers.

Or so it seemed to me. There were two grandmothers – a grandmother and a great-grandmother.

I do not remember playing with either of my grandmothers.

But I do remember being unconditionally accepted, appreciated, and deeply loved by them.

I remember learning to be of help. If my grandmother was sewing – she was a seamstress, a business woman, a solopreneur  in the middle of the last century – I was given the job of sorting thread by color or winding yarn or finding a dropped needle. If my great-grandmother was making noodles, I cracked eggs and kneaded dough. My grandmothers usually included me as they went about their work.

One of my earlier memories was after dinner, when the family gathered to relax and read the daily newspaper. I always impatiently waited as they slowly read each page, every column, every want ad.  Then they discussed the news in detail. But once my grandparents finished with the paper, they would call me.

“Dear, I circled a letter for you in this headline. Do you know the name of the letter?”

“Yes,” I’d eagerly reply. ” A ‘P'”.

Then I was given a colored pencil and told to circle as many ‘P’s’ as I could find in five minutes. When the timer buzzed, we’d count the circles together, and I would proudly write the number on the kitchen wall calendar. No pressure, no goals, just a loving, learning practice.

Routines, rituals, traditions. Another way to express love.

This October, I became a grandmother. What an amazing experience. As I look into the eyes of this three-month old baby, my heart swells with love.

It is my hope that I offer my granddaughter a fraction of the gifts my grandmothers gave me.

~~~

H is for Highways.

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Desert Highway © 2013 Bo Mackison

Nothing heightens my anticipation and excitement more than a road trip.

I love following highways, especially the kind that zig around mountains, pass through open spaces – desert, prairie, grasslands. This year I discovered that I love driving the open road, solo. Stop wherever I want, photograph whatever and whenever for as long as the subject holds my attention, take a detour just to see what is beyond that next rise in the road.

Traveling cross-country from the Southwest to the Midwest this past spring was ten days of delight.

Only once did I question my sanity — when driving on a 12,000 foot peak in Colorado, negotiating hairpin turns with no reassuring guard rails. It was  the first spring snow melt which scattered mini-avalanches of snow and tumbled rock on the road. But even that turned into quite the adventure. Once I descended the celestial roads, I knew I’d negotiated those roads with care and good sense, and conquered my fear of mountain driving on the outside lane.

I took my time, pulled off at the designated places for plenty of calming and rest, took a few photographs, had a snack and a drink. I gave plenty of space to the passing timber trucks, whose drivers had much more experience on these roads than I did (or so I hoped), and I planned my route so I was settled in a town by evening.

I acknowledged my limitations, and appreciated the skills I possessed.

~~~

Want to read Part I? Here it is — Arizona to Desert

Coming tomorrow, Part III : Invitation to Labyrinth

Not Just Beach Friends

Kure Beach in Duotone

Kure Beach Boardwalk © 2013 Bo Mackison

If we are to honor the gift of being human, we must embrace our true nature and teach our soul to fly. ~ Michael Teal

I spent the last week on the Carolina Coast, visiting a friend.

We first met when we began following each other’s blogs in 2008. We connected in a big way. We are both nature lovers and photographers. We are writers and naturalists. We are explorers and caretakers of the earth. We even use the same camera!

For years we conversed through blog comments, Facebook, emails, and telephone calls, and as the years passed we were amazed at the many similarities in our lives. We even have birth dates – not just birthdays – only two days apart!

And so…we embraced adventure and made plans to meet in North Carolina.

We walked the beach every day — sometimes in mist, usually in sunshine. We walked during sunrises, we walked mid-day, we walked as evening shimmered into twilight. Always the sound of the infinite waves wove its way through our conversations.

We traveled the coast, drawn to the same sites: out-of-the-way, funky shops and consignment stores; an amazing aquarium; historical parks; river walks along the Cape Fear; historic architectural districts.

We took ferries to coastal towns that were so much like sacred places, they spoke to our spirits. We wandered through art galleries and walked boardwalks through salt marshes and maritime forests. We explored fishing piers, gardens, outsider art, and diners. We chatted with fishermen, a leatherback sea turtle specialist, artists and photographers, a shark tooth collector, and fellow oyster-shuckers.

It was a magical, mystical time of connection.

We laughed, shared stories, took a thousand photographs, inspired each other, and solved a few of the (smaller) problems of the world!

When I boarded the plane to return to Wisconsin, I waved so long to Debi, but we didn’t say goodbye. We’ve already made plans for Tucson in 2014!

Carolina Coast

Kure Beach Sunrise, November 8, 2013

Kure Beach Sunrise © 2013 Bo Mackison

“. . . I creep out into the Night or the Morning and see what majestic and what tender beauties daily wrap me in their bosom, how near to me is every transcendent secret of Nature’s love and religion. . .” ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

I am visiting the Carolina Coast.

I’m staying in a lovely place, only a block from the Atlantic Ocean. Yesterday, I awoke to a shifting sky, and slipped across the street as dawn was nearing. It was cold and dark.

I stood in silent awe as the waves crashed upon the sands and retreated, relentlessly, infinitely.

A thin line in the dark sky shone red, then orange, and then the clouds fringed with scarlet light. The sun slid above the cloud line; the sea shimmered in tremulous gold.

Ah, ocean, I stand and watch, grounded in the shifting sands.

Exploring the Eastern Coast

Kure Beach

Kure Beach © 2013 Bo Mackison

“The desert and the ocean are realms of desolation on the surface.
The desert is a place of bones, where the innards are turned out, to desiccate into dust.

The ocean is a place of skin, rich outer membranes hiding thick juicy insides, laden with the soup of being.

Inside out and outside in. These are worlds of things that implode or explode, and the only catalyst that determines the direction of eco-movement is the balance of water.

Both worlds are deceptive, dangerous. Both, seething with hidden life.
The only veil that stands between perception of what is underneath the desolate surface is your courage.

Dare to breach the surface and sink.”

~ Vera Nazarian

Endless Waves

Endless Waves

Endless Waves © 2013 Bo Mackison

“You never really know what’s coming. A small wave, or maybe a big one. All you can really do is hope that when it comes, you can surf over it, instead of drown in its monstrosity.” ~ Alysha Speer 

The view spreads beyond, endless.
Faraway, a blue thread separates water from air.

Waves constant, but ever changing.
Waves ever changing, but constant.

The thread so easily binds; the thread is so easily cut.
And still the waves sweep the shore
ever constant, ever changing.

We walk the ever shifting sands.
In stillness we stand grounded.

The beauty holds our gaze.
Ever constant, ever changing.
The beauty holds us dearly.

—————

Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. She reconnected with some of her most beloved people this past weekend, and fell in love with the endless ocean landscape.