Profound -- Before & After

(A Writing Prompt)

Where do you find the profound? 

I find the profound when I turn around. It taps me on the shoulder when I least expect it. It flies by my window when the wind blows. The profound never waits for me to get dressed. Nor does it care if my hair is combed. The profound like a persistent salesman simply shows up at the back door waiting for acknowledgement. The profound taunts me at the break of dawn and at the hour of midnight. I never argue. The mind opens and listens attentively. The profound sometimes whispers in my ear. The volume at times deafens with blaring trumpets. I have learned by now to keep a bag packed and ready. The profound you find may be the one you were looking for--so long ago.

Vacation Rebirth

Baptism by Sea

On the fourth morning of our Cape Cod vacation we watched another rebirth of sorts take place on the shores of the Atlantic. We had just pulled into the parking lot of a small beach near our hotel when a white Mitsubishi SUV pulled in behind us. There was an 8' wooden cross wrapped in a red cloth protruding through the open sun roof. It was a captivating sight that couldn't help but peak your interest.  We parked the car and waited. A small group of people gathered then walked quietly out onto the beach and over to the waters edge. A seaside baptism was about to blossom on the sands of Cape Cod. We walked up to an observation deck on the edge of the park and witnessed the joy of someone receiving a cleansing of their soul and spirit in a very real and invigorating way. 

The Cleansing Begins

The minister, an assistant and the parishioner waded slowly out into the cool waters of Cape Cod and the baptism took place. 

A Clean Fresh Heart Beats Strong

As the minister ended his ceremony he called out to the handful of witnesses on shore, "Is there any one else who wishes to join us?" Silently I responded, "Thank you Reverend, I already did." 

Gnawing Your Way To Happiness

"Gnawntucket"

Don't you wish someone would throw you bone so you could gnaw your way to happiness. Life would be so much nicer if we were able to solve our problems by lying in a corner quietly gnawing them into oblivion. Look how doggone happy this guy is. I'm pretty sure I heard him purring. He was totally engrossed in this hunk of bliss. It was a beautiful day on Nantucket. Even the pets were soaking in the warmth of this sun-drenched October day with a sense that there were few left on the calendar. As I passed the doorway of this colorful shop the scene above stopped me in my tracks. It was the calmness that surrounded this well loved animal that seemed to roll out on to the brick walkway and down the cobblestone street. Everyone passing by had a spell cast upon them. Smiles took over and babies stopped crying. Kids stopped whining and moms were overcome by a comforting ease. Dads opened their wallets with nary a flinch. Shop owners said, "Thank You"and "Please Come Again!"

Dogs

Nice Dog...

Are you dog person? What does that mean exactly? I love dogs. We don't have a dog right now but I feel like I am living in Dog Person World. Since my association with Jon Katz and our Hubbard Hall Writing Group began, I feel like a member of a club of which I am an outsider looking in. I now find myself drawn to dog scenes and photo opportunities. Spending a few days in and around Cape Cod provided many of them. The photograph above is an example. Although this handsome pooch is solid as a rock and cost nothing to feed the child petting him does not care. She is drawn to him and immediately began to pet him and speak softly as though he was as real as Lassie. I could not miss the chance to capture that gentle connection. We saw many similar scenes that day. I will post them as time allows. To all dog owners in the Cape Cod area today, if you see a gray haired man with a camera trying to sneak a shudder click of you and your loved one with a tail, it's only me -- a dog-less dog-person.

Dusk Lawn

Dusk Lawn 
By John R. Greenwood

There's something special about mowing the lawn late in the day in October. The smell and feel of the air has the heft of a bag of wet leaves. It sticks to your lungs in a good way. I love being the last man standing out there in the yard in that after 5 o'clock lawn race. It's that fall adrenaline rush of trying to get everything cleaned up in time for that first blanket of snow. Fall is my favorite season by far. Yes the colors are one good reason but the clincher is the air. The snap that it has revives my spirit. It brings me back to backyard football games and burning leaf piles. The first day you dig out your favorite fall fleece, sweatshirt, or corduroy shirt always produces an extra spark to your pace. I'm not talking about the first day you head out the backdoor to find a sheet of frost on your windshield. By that time the fall high has tailed off a bit. I like those semi-cool evenings when the leaves rest softly on top of the fresh high grass just waiting to be crushed into leaf-crumbles and ground down into the soil.

The tracks of the mower wheels are more pronounced, more deliberate in the damp fall lawn. Your hard work stands out more as if to say, "Look at me!" I am trim and fit and ready for Halloween. The lights of autumn help a great deal. Whether they come from a passing car on it's way to the mall or from the timed garage lights that seem anxious for you to go inside. The mixture of smell, touch, and light create a palette for the senses that linger year after year. I hate to see the summer end. So many more things I would have liked to have done. Oh well, there's always next year? 

So here I am after falling 57 times and each one has something new to offer. This one is being documented in photos and words. Thank you Mother Nature for your hard work and expertise. You put together another fine display this year. I appreciate you letting me be a part of it one more time. I look forward to many more. If you could possibly send us another winter like you gave us last year it would be great. Why the old Toro snowblower didn't even muss his hair last year.

It's getting late now.
I think I smell hot coffee...