Author: hartwish

Unimaginable

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Just as I stand speechless when privileged to view the natural treasures of this nation, I am beyond words when told that protection of our environment is less important than other economic interests addressed in the federal budget. How can that be? What amount of money, what project, what pressures, what argument for or against climate change, is of greater value than being awestruck by the wonders that have dazzled for centuries? Have we lost our sensibilities for that which is not man-made? Do we feel no responsibility for walking lightly on this earth, protecting humans and animals and plants from the carelessness we seem willing to tolerate from industry? We are fearful of so much these days; why are we not fearful of compromises to our air and water? We want governmental protection of our borders; why do we not demand government protection of our land?

The incredible nature photographer Ansel Adams (1902-1984) said it for me: “It is horrifying that we have to fight our own government to save the environment.” Horrifying, and completely unimaginable.

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Irish Reverie

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On a grey day like today, when my spirit is low, I often think of Ireland and the gifts it offers to mood shifts. Every day brings its own colors in which to pleasantly lose one’s thoughts. Thank you, Ireland, for your very rich and nourishing green.Ireland 1Ireland 2Ireland 6

Birds of a Feather

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In keeping with the idiomatic expression about flocking birds, I imposed a quote by John Locke (1632-1704) on a photograph of a painted bird house. In general, birds seem fairly content to follow their leader without judgment. I suppose that makes sense for most species.

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Reality Show

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Had this been a novel, I’d have found the story fiendishly clever and the product of a highly imaginative, complex mind, capable of spinning an exciting yarn with frightening implications. But it isn’t a novel. It’s reality. I have yet to wrap my mind around what has already taken place in our country, and what it portends. Read it and weep, or get very, very angry.

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Washington Wisdom

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I’m referring to George Washington, of course. A photograph I took several years ago at a gallery in Santa Fe, New Mexico seemed to me a good host for the powerful sentiment written by our first President. I can only hope that the same celestial spark is alive and well among those who work on our behalf in the city honored with his name.desktop_485_120629

Holding Pattern

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That’s what January feels like to me. I like it actually, and feel lucky that snow and sleet and misery are rarely part of my winter experience. Even so, it takes several days of compelling sunshine to motivate a visit to the UNESCO World Heritage Spanish missions near San Antonio post-holidays as a change from dark mornings and quieter days.

Operated by the National Park Service, the lesser known missions are short distances apart, several miles south of the Alamo. Spanish Franciscan missionaries worked to convert those who arrived for protection and food in the mid-1700s, building communities for “New Spain”.  Each mission, crafted by Mexican artisans with Indian labor, has its own story of hardship, success and failure. In varying states of restoration, several are still used as active parish churches. The mission compounds must have appeared as mirages to weary frontier travelers; I found them beautiful.

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San Francisco de la Espada

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Nuestra Señora de la Purísima Concepcion

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San Juan Capistrano

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Mission San Jose y San Miguel de Aguayo

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