If all mankind minus one, were of one opinion, and only one person were of the contrary opinion, mankind would be no more justified in silencing that one person, than he, if he had the power, would be justified in silencing mankind.
– John Stuart Mill, philosopher
He who knows, does not speak. He who speaks, does not know.
Lao Tzu – philosopher
A man may fulfill the object of his existence by asking a question he cannot answer, and attempting a task he cannot achieve.
– Oliver Wendell Holmes
Instead of worrying, get moving.
From The Art of Simple Living – By Shunmyo Masuno
Updated Comment: Some of my posts are pre-scheduled, and with today’s coronavirus precacutions, we can’t go too many places, but perhaps we can accomplish some other tasks we’ve been delaying.
Or we can go for a solitary spring walk, like this great blue heron.
I must say, my most dreaded public closing has happened: Our local library will be shutting down after today, until who knows when. Thankfully, they will still offer checkouts and returns via window service.
A windy day at the water last fall. I snapped this photo which captured the interesting geometric pattern formed by the waves amid the rocks.
It’s winter today, but it won’t be long before we can enjoy balmy days at the beach.
I love to visit Lake Erie in any season. These dark waters are as fascinating to me as the clear blue ones of bright July days.
The sediment stirred from the depths and surrounding shores, I view as a necessary cleanse, in the same way an angry day with a partner sometimes clears the air for better times on the morrow.
Don’t the clouds mirror the water’s surface perfectly? Heaven and earth, in harmony.
The air may seem chill, but the sun warms the sand.
A late season walk on the beach soothes soles, lifts spirits preparing us for the coming of winter.
I’m starting to get winter-itis already. The four inch snow earlier this week didn’t help any. The darkness is disturbing and slippery roads frightening.
But walks at the lake on beautiful days like this are sustaining. A reminder of the better side of nature and of life. So worth the endurance of the dark moments.
Sometimes when I gather glass and stones at the shore, I have a goal in mind. Once I spotted a stone shaped like a heart. It inspired me to seek more.
Other times, I look for some that I can use for my latest crafting plan. Though I often change my mind before beginning a project, as it seems sacreligeous somehow, to deface or repurpose such simple yet lovely examples of nature’s artistry.
Lately, I’ve simply glanced at the selections as I make my way down the beach, and reached for the ones which call to me. It’s a good way to tune ones sense of intution. I take them home and lay them in a sunny window, letting the light bring out their shapes and details, and the many lovely shades of gray.
Swimmers take to the water as the sun descends behind a curtain of clouds. It’s about eighty and muggy. A classic late August day. The last day, sadly, for those who love the traditional months of summer.
But September and October hold magical moments of their own – apple picking, county fairs, clear bright days when sunlight shines on painted leaves . . .
And more great days to visit the lake – to sit on wave smoothed logs and stare at the horizon line, stroll the beach, shopping for sea glass and stones – to imagine the bright future which seems possible when one is by the water.