Sometimes Mother Nature stares back at you with a face of her own.

Best not to look away.
Life on the Wicked Stage: Act 3
Musings on life, the theatre, technology, culture and the occasional emu sighting
Sometimes Mother Nature stares back at you with a face of her own.

Best not to look away.
“Every least thing’s important.”
So much can go wrong in life. Big things. Little things. Depending on your station in life what goes wrong determines so much of what comes after, it often tears at hope in our search for a peaceful existence. Train Dreams, directed and co-written by Clint Bentley, set in a more challenging era than our own, focuses on the big things and little things that shape us, in a revealing and poetic story of the life of one man.

In its small singular focus the film expansively embraces the life of an Idaho man who has never traveled far from home, through tough times, tragedies and the moments that define a life in the way trees populate a forest. If that sounds depressing, it’s the exact opposite. The cinematography by Adolpho Veloso and the acting take flight and lift the story far beyond the gritty and tangled undergrowth of the life it inhabits.
It’s a gorgeous film to watch that beautifully captures the mountainous northwest as it follows this lumberjack plying his trade, clearing trees to make lumber for the construction of the Spokane International Railway. It’s a dangerous life and one that takes him away for stretches of time from the family he eventually builds. The mostly peaceful vistas and views contrast with the travails seemingly necessary for this man to build a simple life, at times as sharply shocking as a gunshot in a quiet wilderness. Yet we’re reminded that all of that work literally is overtaken as the years go by with new growth replacing old.
The cast is superb. Joel Edgerton plays the lead, Robert Grainer, in a brilliant performance proving less is always more. Felicity Jones plays his wife, breathing life into him and the story. William H. Macy is exquisite as an older logger in the camps dispensing well worn wisdom. Much of the story is accompanied by the best use of narration I’ve heard in a movie, voiced by Will Patton. It comes and goes like a breeze through the trees seemingly perfectly natural and undisturbing each time it wafts in.
This movie is not going to be for everyone simply because its success requires participation in an almost passive vein. It doesn’t propel us into story telling, it lays it out for us to observe like viewing a valley unfolding beneath from a mountain perch. It’s not fast paced. It’s revelations come in a visual poetry that astounds, capturing the complexity of nature and how simple our small part of it really is, no matter how large or important we view the roles we play in the dramas we create for ourselves.
In the insanely paced tumultuous times we now find ourselves it offers a moment of exquisite reflection exemplified by two mirroring lines of dialogue. “The world is intricately stitched together, boys. Every thread we pull, we know not how it affects the design of things,” says Macy’s character around a campfire. That echoes back again towards the end, when a Forest Service worker reminds Grainer and us that “every least thing’s important.”
Both challenge the wisdom behind the cliché that tells us we can’t see the forest for the trees. But then the bigger picture of a life is always made of smaller moments stitched together if we pay attention.
You can also find more of my writings on a variety of topics on Medium at this link, including in the publications Ellemeno and Rome. I can also be found on social media under my name as above.
Stop and smell the roses
A Mastodon user sent me a direct message the other day asking why I felt so comfortable doing what I do every morning, which is posting a “Good Morning” toot featuring photos I’ve taken of flowers, tree leaves changing color, other shots of nature, holiday ornaments, etc….

The context of the query was criticizing how I could continue to do that every morning given all of the terrible things going on in the United States, things I also rightfully describe on social media as horrors.
I get it. Believe me I get it. I’m overwhelmed at times as well. But my response was and is simple.
Stop and smell the roses.
While there are indeed horrors happening in the world there is always beauty. If we don’t take a moment to see and acknowledge the beauty around us and the spontaneity of discovering it, whether it be in nature, in very human moments, in a museum, a gallery, a stage, a movie theater, a concert hall, a photograph, a child’s laugh, or in a story, then what the hell are we fighting for?
I’m convinced those we are fighting against don’t see or even care to see the beauty around and within us, unless it involves increasing their bank account balances.
Sometimes you need to stop and smell the roses. I prefer doing so in the mornings, before I put on my armor to meet the challenges of the day.
You can also find more of my writings on a variety of topics on Medium at this link, including in the publications Ellemeno and Rome. I can also be found on social media under my name as above.
Color me curious
Two things everyone in our circles are talking about. ICE raids and a late arriving Fall. As far as the usual colors we get every Fall, this year most of our leaves haven’t turned yet. We’re about to turn the calendar from October to November and most of the foliage is still quite green.

Many of the early turning golden leaves are gone and filling the gutters, and there’s the occasional burst of red among the green. But all feels late. It will be interesting to see how this season progresses.

Someone thinks they’ve found a friend.

Caught this fella in my lens the other day and thought I’d share the image. 
Caught a few snaps of Monarch Butterflies flitting among plants in the neighborhood yesterday.

Changes
I think we’ve moved out of the summer heat for this year. Temperatures have cooled. Humidity and the haze from Canadian fires have been replaced with direr air and crystal blue clear skies. It feels like we’re moving into Fall.

I’m not sure if it’s the real thing, or what some call Faux Fall. Either way I’ll take it.
Mornings are cool. Not quite crisp yet. Just cool. Midday temperatures are comfortable. And then the nights cool off again. We’ve experienced that in three different Midwest states on our travel recently.
The icing on the cake has been a steady stream of what my daughter used to call Cotton Candy Clouds. They’ve been floating through the crystal blue skies constantly since Saturday, regardless of where we’ve been.
I’m just going to call it all pleasant. Yup. That’s the word. Pleasant.
Of course we’re bound to have a warmup again at some point before things change for good and we complain about missing Summer.
Haunted by storms from my past
We’re all always watching the weather, especially as the dire promises of climate change become reality. Hurricane season in the Atlantic is swinging into the its most dangerous months after some guy who wants to build gigantic energy sucking and polluting server farms got let loose in the U.S. government and did his best to dismantle departments and the science that help us know more about what’s to come.

I grew up in the hills of central Virginia and survived a few dangerous storms during my childhood. One of those was Hurricane Camille in 1969. I wrote a piece about the night that the storm many had thought already dissipated dumped 25 or so inches of water on our county creating massive flooding and mudslides, and taking lives. That night haunts me to this day.
You can check out the piece on the Medium publication Ellemeno called The Thunder Never Stopped. I hope you go and check it out.
Thanks to David Todd McCarty and NatashaMH for letting me publish the piece on Ellemeno.
You can also find more of my writings on a variety of topics on Medium at this link, including in the publications Ellemeno and Rome. I can also be found on social media under my name as above.
Another lucky catch with the camera.
