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

A Tree, a Nest, a Dream

Tree of Life ©2013 Bo Mackison

Animal Kingdom’s Tree of Life © 2013 Bo Mackison

“Without leaps of imagination or dreaming, we lose the excitement of possibilities. Dreaming, after all is a form of planning.”   ~ Gloria Steinem

It was only a few weeks ago that I spent time at Disney World with my two daughters. While there, I visited Animal Kingdom for the first time, and I saw the centerpiece of the park, a re-creation of a huge Baobab tree. The tree has over 350 animal had sculpted in its concrete bark. The leaves were individually crafted in five colors, all 103,000 of them. It was quite the tree, even if it was born of a man’s creative vision.

We didn’t spend time near the tree, and though I admired it from afar, it wasn’t until I returned to Wisconsin that my interest in this unusual Baobab heightened. I researched the history of the tree, and discovered that this particular tree is called the “Tree of Life”.

I was curious, because this tree, or actually a variation of it, appeared in a recent dream. It was one of those infrequent dreams for which I had complete recall (or so I believe) and I wrote it in detail in my journal. Now I find myself frequently replaying the dream sequence in my mind. I think it’s an interesting dream, and important, too.

And so I’m sharing…

Tree of Life - with Animal Carvings

Tree of Life – with Animal Carvings © 2013 Bo Mackison

This is my dream: I am in a nest at the top of a tree similar to the Tree of Life, so high that my nest — large and very comfy, and woven out of a soft, gauzy material resembling bubble wrap — seems to barely touch the leaves. At first I am able to lean over the nest — it is about waist-high — and see the carved animals on the tree. The animals are alive and friendly, and communicate through facial movements and eye contact. I most remember speaking to a hawk that is very near the nest.

It is a sunny day. I can see an infinite ocean from one side of the nest; the other side overlooks a deep forest, far below, just the tree tops are visible. I am alone, except for one visitor — a very large, very dark raven that has intense, emerald-green eyes.

The raven keeps coming to the nest. He circles the nest, darting about, then pecks at my head while I try to protect myself with my arms. Finally he snatches a single hair from my head and flies away. He does this repeatedly. I am fearful when the raven pecks at me and pulls my hair, but after he disappears from sight, I feel very alone and wonder if he will return.

This happens a dozen times or so. All the while, the skies gradually darken as evening approaches. Then I notice several things. The nest shape shifts and it is now very deep. I can no longer see over the sides nor communicate with the animals on the tree. I can’t see the ocean or the forest. I can only see the darkening sky. A few stars appear, and then the night sky flickers above me. I am in complete darkness except for the far away stars.

Tree of Life - with Animal Carvings

Animal Carvings © 2013 Bo Mackison

Then the raven returns. This time, he flies towards the nest from high above me, soaring in circles, drawing closer and closer. He carries a light. When he is very near, I notice his claws have turned into the hands of a human. In his hands he carries a crystal globe about the size of a large softball. The raven hovers over my nest and gently places the crystal ball into my open hands. Then he soars away.

I hold the globe – it is perfectly spherical and glowing brightly. When I look into the globe, I see a sun as it brightly illuminates the nest, my surroundings, and me.

—————–

Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC.  She explores wherever she travels. And occasionally her travel experiences follow her home and appear in her dreams. She still marvels at the idea of holding a crystal ball filled with sunlight.

Tuba Reflection – A Self Portrait

Self Portrait in Tuba Reflection

Tuba Reflection – Self Portrait ©2013 Bo Mackison

We keep on moving forward, opening new doors and doing new things because we are curious and curiosity keeps leading us down new paths. ~ Walt Disney

 

The Main Street Philharmonic Marching Band.
Cardinal-red band uniforms, gold epaulets,
Shakos with white plumes.

A blue sky-fluffy cloud kind of day.
A tarnished tuba.
Sousa’s Fairest of the Fair.

Fantasy Land.
Where dreams come true, but still require hard work.

There’s always a new path to follow.
Explorations and adventures.

Take a photograph of the silver tuba,
and the photographer and her camera
shine in the reflection.

————–

Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC.  Magical photos happen in magical places.