Category Archives: Photography

Speaking of Huts…

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Wondering off the beaten path at the lake, I came across two distinct hut-like structures. I often wonder about those oddities that one finds in unexpected places.

Was it built to keep the heat of the sun off of the person who built it? Or, possibly it was built because rain was expected, and there was a homeless person/s living inside it, at one point. Maybe a family had a picnic and thought it would be fun to sit within a hut.

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Speaking of huts, Sukkot, or the Feast of the Booths or Tabernacles, begins the evening of October 8th, and ends the evening of October 15th. It is one of Judaism’s Three Pilgrimage Festivals.

It is a season of harvest, and a season of remembrance. The Israelites dwelt in these types of temporary dwellings during their 40 years of journeying through the desert. Let us remember their hardships and obstacles that they forged through. Agricultural workers also dwelt in this type of temporary dwelling during harvest season.

Jews celebrate Sukkot by eating inside a sukkah (hut, tent) for eight days (seven in Israel). All meals are supposed to be taken inside of it. Read about its history, here.

The sukkah is built with four species of plants:

etrog (אתרוג) – the fruit of a citron tree
lulav (לולב) – a ripe, green, closed frond from a date palm tree
hadass (הדס) – boughs with leaves from the myrtle tree
aravah (ערבה) – branches with leaves from the willow tree

You can read more about the custom/s here.

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The House on the Roof: A Sukkot Story, by David Adler, is a great children’s book. The story is a wonderful example of Jewish tradition versus religious tolerance, and it is based on an actual happening.

Chag Sameach!

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Faith, Bridges, Connections

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Bridges are connections, overpasses, passages over obstacles that take us from one side to another. They are also a spiritual symbol, leading us on a journey across a divide or an obstacle, that could connect us to faith and religion.

At times the bridge comes to an end, with no way to walk on any further, and one must turn around and retrace their steps, leading them ponder the paths they must bridge, or think about reconnecting with community, religion or family.

Faith builds a bridge from this world to the next. – Unknown Author

I like the poem below, by Emily Dickinson

Faith — is the Pierless Bridge
Supporting what We see
Unto the Scene that We do not –
Too slender for the eye

It bears the Soul as bold
As it were rocked in Steel
With Arms of Steel at either side –
It joins — behind the Veil

To what, could We presume
The Bridge would cease to be
To Our far, vacillating Feet
A first Necessity.

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Sunday Scenes: September 21, 2014

sundayscene

A man of wisdom delights in water. -Confucius

The marsh, to him who enters it in a receptive mood, holds, besides mosquitoes and stagnation, melody, the mystery of unknown waters, and the sweetness of Nature undisturbed by man. -Charles William Beebe (1906)

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Sunday Scenes: September 7, 2014

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I love to watch goldfinches go about their activities. Their illuminating tones bring smiles to my face. I find joy in watching them, other than when they are fighting for food at the feeders.

They become almost frenzied when waiting their turn at the bird feeders. They squawk, push others with their noses, flap their wings, hover, and do all sorts of physical maneuvers in order to get at the feeders.

I have bought extra feeders, hoping it will help with the feeding frenzy.

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Cliffs and Sea

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The Cliffs

They sing of the grandeur of cliffs inland,
But the cliffs of the ocean are truly grand;
And I long to wander and dream and doubt
Where the cliffs by the ocean run out and out.

To the northward far as the eye can reach
Are sandhill, boulder, and sandy beach;
But southward rises the track for me,
Where the cliffs by the ocean run out to sea.

Friends may be gone in the morning fair,
But the cliffs by the ocean are always there;
Lovers may leave when the wind is chill,
But the cliffs by the ocean are steadfast still.

They watch the sea and they ward the land,
And they warn the ships from the treacherous sand;
And I sadly think in the twilight hour
What I might have been had I known my power.

Where the smoke-cloud blurs and the white sails fill,
They point the ships to keep seaward still;
And I think—Ah, me!—and I think—Ah, me!
Of the wreck I’d saved had I kept to sea.

Oh! the cliffs are old and the cliffs are sad,
And they know me sane, while men deem me mad.
Oh! the cliffs are firm and the cliffs are strong,
And they know me right, while men deem me wrong.

And I sometimes think in the dawning gray,
I am old as they, I am old as they;
And I think, I think that in field and town
My spirit shall live till the cliffs come down
-Henry Lawson

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Bench B&W

bw bench

I often lay on that bench looking up into the tree, past the trunk and up into the branches. It was particularly fine at night with the stars above the tree.
-Georgia O’Keeffe

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