A sunny afternoon, blue skies overheard. Glorious weather. Reconnecting with my son after several months apart, getting to know his new lady love. Enjoying the wildflowers that gently swayed in the breeze. The rush and warmth of a mellow glass of wine feeding the exuberance of running through tall grasses. The sense of calm. Feeling relaxed. Freedom and joy, laughter and delight.

Elements, all, in creating a defining moment, a fond memory, a good time to remember and cherish. These are things that always make me smile.

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TargetShooting

While this ‘shot’ might lead one to believe I’ve worked to accomplish a tight cluster of marks at the shooting range, I view this instead as an achievement of another sort entirely.

Not so long ago I would have easily dismissed any notion that I might ever find myself handling, let alone shooting or owning a firearm. However, when my husband began researching and shopping around for a handgun a few years ago, I asked – on a whim – to hold one to see what it felt like in my hands. It was a huge sucker – a.50 caliber monster, that made me look and feel foolishly like Dirty Harriet but I was intrigued. When Bill and his brother enrolled in a class in order to get their permits to carry, I signed up as well.

Not long after that, I purchased a .22 caliber Browning beauty and we shot a few times – even joined the local Ikes that first year – although it’s been several months now since we have fired our pieces. Time is always a problem and while we enjoy target shooting it often takes a backseat to other interests. No matter. The important thing for me is that I stepped outside of my comfort zone and participated in something I would have written off before without having made any real attempt to understand or learn what it was all about. I’m no NRA, gun-toting, enthusiast (another discussion entirely but thank you – no); however, I do pride myself on trying something new and opening myself up to new possibilities!

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Quiet contemplation at Mills Lake in Rocky Mountain National Park…

Even when we met others on the trail, being there was a glorious exercise in solitude. A heady combination of beauty and grandeur – perfect for searching the soul and reassessing one’s priorities.

Re-blogging this wonderful piece from a dear blogging friend of mine. I haven’t “known” her for long but I very much enjoy her writing and her photography. What I know of her from her blog, she is one very amazing and interesting person. Good job Martha!

marthaschaefer's avatarTherapeutic Misadventures

The connotations of the word “intimacy” were flooding through my mind on the way home from work. Is intimacy the tiny details we pick up from daily interactions with people? I shared an intimate secret with a woman who is most easily described as a customer. We know nothing about each other’s lives except her love of cooking and her passion for inspiring ingredients. Her unconscious aroma is lemon. We talked about essential oils and I shared my signature scent, the perfume I have worn daily for over 30 years; Annick Goutal’s Eau d’Hadrien. I first found it while working in Harvard Square. There was a small, hole-in-the-wall shop that carried only finest European soaps and perfumes. You could find a real, boar’s bristle hairbrush, exotic toiletries, and you could test out wondrous scents from decades of ago.

The intimacy I witness in other arenas of life are the ones…

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