(no subject)
It seems like a lifetime ago since I made a journal entry. Since that time my life has turned on a dime and now it's turned back again to the same old, same old. I fell in love, fell in lust, had a crush on someone I admired and desired for many years. I messed it up badly but it turns out I didn't have a snowballs chance in hell. She was just being nice to me and I took it as interest. I have so few interactions with women that I over-read things when I do meet someone. I laid it all on the line, so for once I have no regrets there. It's just that right now there is this big void in front of me where before I saw a future, had hope of someone to send a valentine to.
Even though this has been a winter with little snow here (so far), I managed to build a snowman for the first time in umpteen years. That was uber fun, I recommend it to anyone "feeling" old. I wrote a little story for the local newspaper and had many postive comments from the locals and people at work. I want to be this man I see in my head (writer, photographer, metal sculptor, lover, craftman), yet I am stuck in the fear of never having a lover. I'm old enough to know better, that the time for excuses is quickly running out. I want one magical night with a woman who makes my heart race and then I'll go on my merry way. A stripper once laughed at me when I told her I had never slept with a women, well I said it in a joking way but then the pain came up and I had to walk away so she wouldn't see the tears.
I had a taste of being alive the last four months of 2005, I'm not sure what will happen in 2006 but I want more from myself, more from life than frozen pizza, reruns of Friends & This Old House, looking but never touching, making promises I never keep.
A Fisherman's Morning
I am not a fisherman by avocation, nor an early riser but the morning of October first called to me. I've been meaning to take some sunrise photographs at Crescent Beach, Algoma for quite some time, today was the day. It was dark when I arrived but there were already several fishing boat lights visible on Lake Michigan, scattered across the wide horizon. The lighting from the marina sparkled across the lazy waves that lapped against the shoreline. Gulls congregated by the waters edge to pick at what the night washed in. The distant horizon was a pink dusty color, the sunrise not yet born. I am by no means an expert photographer but I snapped away, I took a few pictures then waited for the light to change, then took a few more.
While I waited for sunrise, I sat down in the sand, my back up against a volleyball standard and watched the morning unfold. The gulls sorted through the seaweed where the water met the land. They screeched and danced as the waves rolled in, some bobbing like a cork if a larger wave took them by surprise. Their silhouette against the pink horizon and the added harbor lighting gave just enough illumination for some rather nice photos. Gulls are often put down by some along the shoreline communities but I can't imagine them not being here. They were here before anyone ever thought of a lighthouse or words were invented to describe them. There were slender ones, fat ones, some aggressive in nature, some avoidant, mostly light colored, a few dark. Some were content in the spot they found, others constantly looking for something they hadn't yet uncovered. I'm not much more than a casual bird watcher, I never took the time to watch them puff out their chest and turn their heads skyward as they cawed out their message to the stars. I'm sure there's some simple zoological reason why they do what they do.
As the morning brightened so did my urge to catch that picture perfect sunrise. I gradually walked up closer to the gulls, hoping not to scare them off by moving too fast. The horizon was much brighter now but the glowing sphere had not yet appeared. A small fishing boat trolled off the south pier, eventually moving southeast into deeper waters. I could see the black outlines of people casting off the piers, considered that maybe fishing isn't all about the fish. Gulls constantly floated downward from the morning sky, landing on the damp shoreline, then flocks suddenly took off in flight for no apparent reason. Geese flew above me, never landing, I suppose a bit wary of my presence. I had to remind myself why I was here, the lighting changing minute by minute.
Although the sun hadn't yet appeared, I could now tell the location of it's rising. The band of pink now gave way to a stronger red, the view of the world around me expanding. There was a bit more traffic to my back, a lone man enjoying the Crescent Beach walkway, headed south. The domed red area, ready to erupt, the earth spinning into the sun's view. In what seemed like a blink of an eye the sun was half up, glaring bright red, then three quarters, then a full round ball, glaring so bright I tried to recall if the camera directions said to not point directly at it. I did anyway. I was amazed how quickly the moment was gone, grateful for the experience. I'll be back again some predawn morning and I'm sure it'll be different each time.
A part-time resident once asked me if I appreciated the beauty of this city and I replied "yes, I really do". I've traveled much of the USA over the years and we have much to be thankful for, beautiful sunrises just being one of them.
Even though this has been a winter with little snow here (so far), I managed to build a snowman for the first time in umpteen years. That was uber fun, I recommend it to anyone "feeling" old. I wrote a little story for the local newspaper and had many postive comments from the locals and people at work. I want to be this man I see in my head (writer, photographer, metal sculptor, lover, craftman), yet I am stuck in the fear of never having a lover. I'm old enough to know better, that the time for excuses is quickly running out. I want one magical night with a woman who makes my heart race and then I'll go on my merry way. A stripper once laughed at me when I told her I had never slept with a women, well I said it in a joking way but then the pain came up and I had to walk away so she wouldn't see the tears.
I had a taste of being alive the last four months of 2005, I'm not sure what will happen in 2006 but I want more from myself, more from life than frozen pizza, reruns of Friends & This Old House, looking but never touching, making promises I never keep.
A Fisherman's Morning
I am not a fisherman by avocation, nor an early riser but the morning of October first called to me. I've been meaning to take some sunrise photographs at Crescent Beach, Algoma for quite some time, today was the day. It was dark when I arrived but there were already several fishing boat lights visible on Lake Michigan, scattered across the wide horizon. The lighting from the marina sparkled across the lazy waves that lapped against the shoreline. Gulls congregated by the waters edge to pick at what the night washed in. The distant horizon was a pink dusty color, the sunrise not yet born. I am by no means an expert photographer but I snapped away, I took a few pictures then waited for the light to change, then took a few more.
While I waited for sunrise, I sat down in the sand, my back up against a volleyball standard and watched the morning unfold. The gulls sorted through the seaweed where the water met the land. They screeched and danced as the waves rolled in, some bobbing like a cork if a larger wave took them by surprise. Their silhouette against the pink horizon and the added harbor lighting gave just enough illumination for some rather nice photos. Gulls are often put down by some along the shoreline communities but I can't imagine them not being here. They were here before anyone ever thought of a lighthouse or words were invented to describe them. There were slender ones, fat ones, some aggressive in nature, some avoidant, mostly light colored, a few dark. Some were content in the spot they found, others constantly looking for something they hadn't yet uncovered. I'm not much more than a casual bird watcher, I never took the time to watch them puff out their chest and turn their heads skyward as they cawed out their message to the stars. I'm sure there's some simple zoological reason why they do what they do.
As the morning brightened so did my urge to catch that picture perfect sunrise. I gradually walked up closer to the gulls, hoping not to scare them off by moving too fast. The horizon was much brighter now but the glowing sphere had not yet appeared. A small fishing boat trolled off the south pier, eventually moving southeast into deeper waters. I could see the black outlines of people casting off the piers, considered that maybe fishing isn't all about the fish. Gulls constantly floated downward from the morning sky, landing on the damp shoreline, then flocks suddenly took off in flight for no apparent reason. Geese flew above me, never landing, I suppose a bit wary of my presence. I had to remind myself why I was here, the lighting changing minute by minute.
Although the sun hadn't yet appeared, I could now tell the location of it's rising. The band of pink now gave way to a stronger red, the view of the world around me expanding. There was a bit more traffic to my back, a lone man enjoying the Crescent Beach walkway, headed south. The domed red area, ready to erupt, the earth spinning into the sun's view. In what seemed like a blink of an eye the sun was half up, glaring bright red, then three quarters, then a full round ball, glaring so bright I tried to recall if the camera directions said to not point directly at it. I did anyway. I was amazed how quickly the moment was gone, grateful for the experience. I'll be back again some predawn morning and I'm sure it'll be different each time.
A part-time resident once asked me if I appreciated the beauty of this city and I replied "yes, I really do". I've traveled much of the USA over the years and we have much to be thankful for, beautiful sunrises just being one of them.