Monday, May 30, 2011
This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with new meaning, 'My country 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring.'
And if America is to be a great nation this must be true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania. Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado. Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California. But, not only that, Let freedom ring from Stone Mountain Georgia. Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee. Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.
And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, 'Free and last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!' "
~Dr. Martin Luther King
Washington DC 1964
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Doors open at these moments. The only question is, will you walk through it, or stand at the threshold and hesitate?
A moment later, and the light is gone, the clouds have shifted in the gentle evening breeze. The shot is gone and the planets have rotated just a bit off center.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
I was born and raised not far from here. Growing up in a sleepy little town steeped in New England heritage and family history. I left in 1978 and have lived in Pennsylvania ever since. But, to me, this is still home.
A woman got off the train right behind me. She spent some time pawing through her bag and eventually she pulled what looked like a map out. She looked at it for a while. Eventually she turned to me and asked me if the bus came by here. I paused. I was trying to be kind. There has never been a bus anywhere near here. She read my look and said she understood, I must not be from around here either. No, I said, I guess not.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Friday, May 13, 2011
Times have changed. The farmlands surrounding Downingtown are now sprouting sub-divisions. Spreading neighborhoods. One acre yards of grass replace stoop and block. Most of the mills and factories are silent. Their buildings filled now with trendy restaurants.
But, still, a whisper of history lingers. It is in the air. A whisp of twilight glow connects past to present.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Together we will wander down this path.
Into the woods on a spring day.
The sky is clean and clear.
The leaves vibrant fresh in their newness.
We can take our time.
The air is cool.
The sun bright.
The days longer now.
Take my hand.
Into the woods we go.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
I have driven by this red barn for over 40 years. I have had to stop on ocassion to allow the cows to come home on a summer evening. I have slipped slowly around the corner on snowy New England winter days.
I have come and gone many, many times. Never stopping to bring the view truly into focus. Today I drove by, intent on making it to the house in time to get a shower after an afternoon spent with my camera. Out of the corner I saw the sky clear.. Today, I turned around. Today, I brought Oppenheimer's home with me.