Life is a Blur

Plans are for making
Constantly pushing
Constantly breaking

It was a Sunday. We spent the day prepping and painting. As the day was closing we sat at the top tier of the new property, exhausted. Peering through the trees, I spied the orange of the blood moon rising. A slight tinge rang up my spine. “I should be set up somewhere with a tripod and a decent lens making some images of this event.” It echoed in my brain like the nagging sore muscles that covered my body. It was a split second visceral reaction engrained into my psyche from the last eighteen years of concerted efforts in photography.
We drove home back to the old homestead of thirty-two years. The forty-minute drive was quiet. We were both thinking the same thing “what have we gotten ourselves into?” Neither one of us would say it. Now was a time for resolute dedication. There was no room for second guessing.
As I exited the car I gazed up at the beauty of that blood moon. It was so compelling and awe inspiring. It’s red-orange smokiness harbored eons of superstition and lore. Imagine entire kingdoms, generals and seers warning of impending doom based on the omen in the sky. Who could resist?! I made a quick monopod set-up and made some images with my 200-600. There was no getting focus, no matter what I tried. After several minutes, I gave in. I simply didn’t have the strength to continue.

That was twelve days ago. Since then, most of the paint is done. Much of the new floor needs installation. All of the baseboards need replacing. Today, one week after move-in we got hot water (another story). Yesterday, we figured out why our internet connection wasn’t working. We fixed it ourselves.

Tomorrow we finish cleaning the old home and turn over the keys. That little place is full of memories, laughter, tears, struggles and victories. Our grown daughters lived out their childhoods there. Now they have their own beginnings and it’s time for ours.

Tonight, I stood at the top tier of the property again. The mountain behind us is calling. It’s chaparral has its own secrets and tales ready to be seen and told. Soon enough, when the dust is settled and my knees are a little less sore we will meet and speak to one another. Who knows what will happen next?!

A very banal view from the rear of our property. Soon enough I can make time for good light.