Time to write
Monday I finally got to meet up with my long-time lj friend seraphimsigrist at the hermitage of his friend Victor, who is the sole occupant of this little monestary nestled in the woods. This meeting was long overdue as anyone who knows S. would probably say, "You only live a couple hundred miles away, why did you wait four years!?" Also met canonjohn, another magnificent presence, and friends Mark and Peter, and Fr. Mike who I honestly do believe is a protagonist for at least some of S.'s posts as he suggested. I know many of you would have loved to be there, and I wish you could have enjoyed a bit of the vintage Port we shared before parting, although there would have been less for Mark, who I beleive could have consumed several bottles of it on the spot, such seemed to be his taste for it. I acquired this little bottle better than two years ago now just for this occasion, and it was worth the wait.
A wonderful little chapel is attached to the house Victor lives in, and a little sort of Mass was made. I am not at all familiar with the particular phrases, but I certainly understand something of their meaning, as I'm sure our minds were all turned to the same place. Saying to S. afterwards that at such moments it is hard to imagine there being any sort of strife in the world he commented, "Perhaps [at these moments] there actually isn't any." An experience certainly as memorable as the wine at least.
After an hour's conversation we were off to lunch, as Fr. Mike was on a tight schedule. You'd just guess that S. would have a way with words, but you just wouldn't know the extent by his journal alone, he is quite the charmer. Fr. Mike is not at all a man of too few words either. I believe our waitress was sincerely taken in, and she treated us well. S. came up with a blessing for her upcoming road trip to Virginia beach (regardless of the words, the intent is always the same, "May you resurrect and be guided by the Christ within"), Fr. mike had his schedule, another fast hour we were off to the next and final destination.
Down the road a short ways in Connecticut there was once a small summer community of Russian painters and writers, amongst other Russian folk. They built this little chapel, used perhaps once a year. Peter, though living less than a hundred miles away in NY, grew up here but hadn't returned for 48 years. Some pictures and words here: http://seraphimsigrist.livejournal.com/706297.html . We shared our glasses of that wonderful port on this spot before saying our goodbyes till next time.
A wonderful little chapel is attached to the house Victor lives in, and a little sort of Mass was made. I am not at all familiar with the particular phrases, but I certainly understand something of their meaning, as I'm sure our minds were all turned to the same place. Saying to S. afterwards that at such moments it is hard to imagine there being any sort of strife in the world he commented, "Perhaps [at these moments] there actually isn't any." An experience certainly as memorable as the wine at least.
After an hour's conversation we were off to lunch, as Fr. Mike was on a tight schedule. You'd just guess that S. would have a way with words, but you just wouldn't know the extent by his journal alone, he is quite the charmer. Fr. Mike is not at all a man of too few words either. I believe our waitress was sincerely taken in, and she treated us well. S. came up with a blessing for her upcoming road trip to Virginia beach (regardless of the words, the intent is always the same, "May you resurrect and be guided by the Christ within"), Fr. mike had his schedule, another fast hour we were off to the next and final destination.
Down the road a short ways in Connecticut there was once a small summer community of Russian painters and writers, amongst other Russian folk. They built this little chapel, used perhaps once a year. Peter, though living less than a hundred miles away in NY, grew up here but hadn't returned for 48 years. Some pictures and words here: http://seraphimsigrist.livejournal.com/706297.html . We shared our glasses of that wonderful port on this spot before saying our goodbyes till next time.