A Hard Rain’s A-gonna fall…

I need to apologize and reflect on why so much time has gone by, life events, or just days melting into the past, makes me wonder about myself and my shadow.
I cannot write / publish to WordPress using my tablet, even though that is where I spend most of my time reading these days. Yet as many reviewers of eReaders note, a tablet is a terrible distraction, a book does not have a web browser built in, and there is no YouTube to drift into.
I am a fan / follower of Marshall McLuhan, ever since I heard “The Medium is the Massage” many years ago, after it was produced in audio form by Columbia special records.”There ain’t no grammatical errors in a non-literate society”
There are many distractions to my life in recent years, not the least of which is our relocation from New England, back to New York. Only this time not Long Island, but the foothills of the Helderberg’s in what has been called the “Burned Down District”. It is a region of the state where so much of the Revival Movement took place in the 19th century. Along the corridors of the Iroquois and the Mohawk, Leatherstocking region, and only a few hours drive from Herkimer Diamond Mines, and Palmyra, the place where Joseph Smith found the (in)famous Golden Tablets, that started the LDS movement.
In a sense I feel I belong here, yet I miss the ocean. I replace the smell of salt air, with fields of grass, and decaying leaves turning to clay, and layers of million year old slate.
I hike the Helderbergs, and have become friends John Boyd Thatcher State Park and its Indian Ladder trail, a huge escarpment that overlooks the Mohawk Valley, with sights that have stood unchanged for eons of time.
To the east Vermont, and the Green Mountains, to the north Saratoga and Fort Ticonderoga, Lakes George and Champlain, and the Adirondack Mountains – the foundation of some of the oldest rock on the face of the planet. Being a Scorpio I am absorbed in my work, having been laid off in 2016, and starting a new position as an IT manager at a local company in 2017. I’ve realized I’m good at what what I do, or best to say what I put my mind to, so whether it is IT , or blogging, it generally comes across well.
So, you see, there are distractions from my blog, yet I realize more and more, that in this time and place, this blog, this pseudonym of grandfathersky, is a calling, a way to share that “still small voice” with the world at large, even if at times it feels that I am singing to the choir.
So my friends, in so many words, I have been distracted, yes, I continue to write, and yes, I will share those words with the world, again, and again, and again … From my heart I say “Thank you” all for caring, for your many returns to the well. For those who thirst, like the Springs at Saratoga, there is always a new source of water finding its way through the shale to the light …

Photo : “The Dunes Sunrise” gfs 2018

New York Snow

I woke in the morning and knew it had come,
I couldn’t remember how good it had felt.
A blanket that cooled the city at night,
as it fell all around and would quietly melt.

In the hush of the morning of a new fallen snow,
the city would dwell in a lingering dawn.
Trying to find it’s way out of the doorways,
and onto its streets that were quiet and calm.

No, it wasn’t a sight for sore eyes I beheld,
and it wasn’t the usual day that became.
The message was clear, so peaceful and easy,
by changing the color it was cooling the flame.

Looking out on the moment life changed in my eyes,
by reflections of light from a crystalline dream.
The appearance of thought and emotion stood still,
as I found how my vision was changed in that scene.

I’ll always remember that New York snow,
I stepped out the door, turned a page in my book.
There the softest of colors had changed what I saw,
forever that morning things changed how they look.

Image: http://luirig.altervista.org/naturaitaliana/viewpics.php?title=East+Side+in+snow+storm,+New+York