Group shot

Writing the past two weeks or so has become increasingly difficult.  For some reason, even though there are words and thoughts which I could form into a post, I am less and less inclined to make the effort. 

I think at least in part the reason for my inertia has to do with the outside work Tal and I have been doing.  In itself limbing the pine grove and clearing away underbrush is not more than I can do.  But that, combined with the house and meals and dealing with bills and incoming mail, does add up to a certain amount of physical weariness.  Plus, my practice had become to stay up late to write.  That could only go on for so long.

We've been away.  It was a special time I don't want to let slide past without note.  And, it was a time of wonderful focus beyond the normal everyday.  My mother celebrated a major birthday last week and the weekend saw a gathering of family at Pawleys Island all dedicated to honoring her.  My three siblings, three of our four spouses, Mom's brother and sister-in-law and Mom went meal-to-meal from Friday dinner to Sunday breakfast.  Food is a basic way we humans express our love for each other isn't it?

This photograph was taken at Brookgreen Gardens at mid-day on Saturday
(a week ago tomorrow) --the ten of us at a bench placed in a lovely spot
overlooking the Dogwood Pond in memory of Dad.

I look at this photograph and see, in a manner of speaking, my whole life, people I know the best and have known the longest.  Relationship tried and true.  That short of anchor on a life make the ebbs and flows less troubling -- the writing to the not writing, even.  It'll all be OK.

The bench

Today Mom and I went to Brookgreen Gardens, so I could see the recently installed bench given by the staff and volunteers in Dad's memory. It's outside the walled garden, backing up to the Dogwood Pond and facing the arboretum. It's a pretty and hospitable location with a lovely breeze.

And, the bench is popular already. Mom and I had to wait to get near it, as we found a group of four settled in with their lunch. Earlier in the week when Mom and Joyce went to see it, they had to wait, too.

Ann Tarbox resting with Dad's memory on the Tarbox bench

I hope many people find peace in this inviting spot. The spirit of Gurdon Tarbox is there -- fervently whispering to everyone who might happen to linger that hurrying isn't all it's cracked up to be. It is my dearest wish that everyone who loved him in this life will somehow perceive that message -- whether they get to sit on that lovely, comfortable bench or not.

Hiking along Stevens Creek

We are almost within the final two month period before our June adventure to Alaska (Alaska: Enlightenment under the Midnight Sun). Road Scholar (a division of Elderhostel) has sent out a detailed description of the excursion, advocating some conditioning prior to meeting the group in Fairbanks on June 20th. Ever obedient, our walks are beginning a shift from the flat of the roads in our neighborhood and the gentle hills of the nearby golf course. Yesterday afternoon we headed out to explore a portion of the 12 miles along Stevens Creek in McCormick County.

The day was utterly georgeous and I felt better than I had in a couple of weeks. Given those two plusses (which can quickly become minuses), we agreed to try to refrain from being overly ambitious. Since neither of us had thought to wear a watch and since I'd left the cell phone (which includes a clock) on the kitchen counter, we couldn't walk for a pre-determined length of time and turn around. We were grateful, once on the trail -- beginning at the bridge on SR23 near Modoc -- to see that the distance is posted every half-mile. This is Tal as we turned around at the 2-mile marker. (He indulged my effort to get the marker in the foreground by walking into the distance.)

It's along Stevens Creek that the famous and endangered Rocky Shoals Spider Lily will begin blooming next month. Although we weren't treated to that sight or scent today, we were blessed with another lily ... I think the Atamasco ... growing along tributaries to the main creek and in low glades. I managed to muddy both knees, but getting these shots (and several more ...) nourished my soul this Easter day.


This flower isn't new to me. As a child I was privately convinced that it should have been the real Easter lily. I remember (perhaps wrongly) that they bloomed at Eastertime on either side of a brick waterfall near the Youth Taming the Wild pool at Brookgreen Gardens. An enchanting spot in my memory to be sure and one, to my surprise (and I have looked), that I did not photograph during those early years.

Walking the perimeter

Tal and I spent the afternoon at Brookgreen Gardens, an outdoor museum of American sculpture on the Waccamaw Neck and the place where I was fortunate to grow up. The afternoon was perfect -- the weather, the company, the location.

The original and primary garden at Brookgreen is walled, the main event in a manner of speaking. But, there is plenty to see no matter where the visitor ends up. We spent our time outside the wall: along Brookgreen Creek, on the boardwalk overlooking the rice fields, at the animal displays. It was frustrating to realize that the time was terribly short and that we couldn't linger to enjoy the late afternoon light -- a definite disadvantage of the earlier-than-normal change to Daylight Savings Time.

Time passes by so fast. Sad to say, there are moments for me when that fact is almost paralyzing. Being paralyzed, of course, unable to chose for fear of choosing wrongly, is to miss out pretty much completely. Every decision we make means deciding for one thing and not deciding for a variety of other things. We have to choose and sometimes unchoose. Making the mistake isn't the problem. Not making what amounts to course corrections, when necessary along the way, is the real mistake.

The perimeter was wonderful. There was so much from which to choose and I think we chose well.