I'm so sorry to have missed this earlier .. I admire your courage in sharing, and hope you know that with this courage you've planted seeds of gratitude for each day.
Thanks Doug. Yes, gratitude is what it all boils down to for me, which is likely why gratitude became the subject of my follow up post https://johncharlton.substack.com/p/the-warkworth-gratitude-project - How can I wallow in self pity, when I have so much to be grateful for.
I’ve just now learned of what you have been going through, as I have not been keeping up with everyone’s essays/posts. I did not realize your wife was ill. I am so sorry for your loss. You have written tenderly and beautifully about her and about your goodbyes. And the photos tell the story with equal beauty. May your memories of her sustain you through your loss and the grieving that will follow. Thank you for writing and sharing this.
Thank You Georgia. Not to worry, I don't expect anyone to keep up with my ramblings but I am grateful that you are here now and thank you for your kind words. My wife was not ill, depressed about her mobility situation - yes, but quite well otherwise. Her illness came like a lightning bolt out of the blue. It took us unaware and knocked us to the ground. It hardly gave us time to react.
Such a beautifully written, heartfelt piece. Wow, the image of the lily pads and heart-shaped leaf, and the timing of it. Ruth will be there with you now on your hikes, however difficult the trail. Peace and love to you John 🙏
Thank you Tania. I have thought of that. In fact, when I went outside right after her death I asked her to join me. She used to love walks down the driveway. I look forward to many adventures with her in the future.
Very moving post John. So sorry for your loss of Ruth who you clearly felt so strongly for and had made such wonderful memories with.
Your pictures really complement and add expression to your written thoughts and I appreciate how you openly share your deep inner experiences with all of us. Our thoughts are with you.
John, you have put together another beautiful tribute to Ruth. When Andy and I met you this summer, before the storm, we talked about cameras and photography. You mentioned you wanted to practice writing. You are a writer. Thank goodness you and Ruth had some angels to help a little bit, to shepherd you as best as frail humans can do. And thank goodness you have your camera and your writing to help get you through this terrible time.
What a beautiful tribute to Ruth. Man, we had great music growing up. We thought then it would always be this way. Not only in music, but in everything. Man, we were wrong. So much change; so much loss The last song has special significance to me.
Yes, change. We don't want it and yet it keeps coming. At an ever faster pace it seems. Why can't things just stay the same? As we grow older, our tolerance for change lessens, and yet our ability to manage change is our greatest challenge. Darwin's theory of evolution is often summarized as survival of the fittest, which is not something he actually ever said. But if he were to interpret what survival of the fittest means in the context of his theory, he would likely say something like... survival of the fittest means survival of those species most capable of adapting to change.
I threw that last song in at the end. It's the 11th song in the list of 10. I had it floating around in the back of my mind and when I listened to it in full it seemed perfect, even sublime, for my intended use. But Ruth wasn't a fan of the Mamas and The Papas. She wasn't into the Beach Boys either. We didn't share interests in all things. She had her likes and I had mine. We agreed on most things, but not all. That is normal. The last two tracks are not two she would have chosen, but then she didn't write the article. Neither am I very fond of some of the things I know about the lives of some of these musicians. Like any of us, we are imperfect, sometimes more than a little. I like to listen to music on its own terms and try as best I can to separate the music from the creators. I'm glad the song holds meaning for you. In my experience, music can soothe the soul in a way nothing else can.
A beautiful piece of writing and of photography, John, in tribute to Ruth, the one you loved, with whom you shared many things. Of living and of life. It is hard to see another suffer. I can't say I find meaning in suffering.
Nature provides us comfort and solace and, of course, beauty and truth, signs & wonders into another way of seeing. Your photos show us at least this much. Probably more. Windows into the soul of Nature. Windows into your own soul.
As for the music of our youth (I am 66), the 1960s and '70s cannot be beat. And the beat goes on.
Thank You Perry. Nature holds all of the answers because nature is really the only thing which is real. When we stop doing and just be, nature is who we are, not something outside of us, but a tiny component of the universal wholeness of existence. When our creative output aligns with this core foundation of nature, we become healed. Like yourself and Ruth, my foundation in music centres upon the music of the 60s and 70s. Experts say this is due to brain development. That we align to this music, these beats, this sensibility within our lives as teenagers. But I have found that if I open my mind, and opening one's mind is easy to do when listening to music, that music has never died. That it evolved and continues to evolve, which is more than can be said of the crap that comes from most radio stations. The Internet has opened up unimagined opportunities for both musicians and listeners. And yet, it is a paradox of modern living that unlike the golden years of rock where you didn't have to work at hearing the best music imaginable, today we must swim through oceans of polluted commercial mediocrity to find ourselves basking in isolated pools of brilliance every bit as good as the best of our youth. I never listen to radio. I grow tired of golden oldies stations by the second song played. But there is music these days being made that is every bit as good as the music of our youth. All of which is to say, yes, the beat does goes on. The day the music died has not yet arrieved and I believe it will never come. These modern offerings will never supplant the music of our youth because that is a personal treasure trove that no one can ever take away from us, but keep your ears open, your heart open for the music of today, because to close yourself off to it, would be a crying shame.
I am open to it, John, but the good music today is as rare as a pearl in an oyster. So much drek. There is also auto tune, AI and not enough musicianship working against my interests. The past set such a high bar.
I mean, is there something today as comparable to “Nights in White Satin”? (the song just popped into my head).
There is, however, a different kind of music in Nature. I think you know what I mean. Take care.
John, so sorry for your loss. This is a beautiful post about love, loss, resilience and photography. Thank you for sharing it with us. Love all the images. Take care.
I'm so sorry to have missed this earlier .. I admire your courage in sharing, and hope you know that with this courage you've planted seeds of gratitude for each day.
Thanks Doug. Yes, gratitude is what it all boils down to for me, which is likely why gratitude became the subject of my follow up post https://johncharlton.substack.com/p/the-warkworth-gratitude-project - How can I wallow in self pity, when I have so much to be grateful for.
My heart goes out to you.
Thanks very much Simon. You are a good man.
I’ve just now learned of what you have been going through, as I have not been keeping up with everyone’s essays/posts. I did not realize your wife was ill. I am so sorry for your loss. You have written tenderly and beautifully about her and about your goodbyes. And the photos tell the story with equal beauty. May your memories of her sustain you through your loss and the grieving that will follow. Thank you for writing and sharing this.
Thank You Georgia. Not to worry, I don't expect anyone to keep up with my ramblings but I am grateful that you are here now and thank you for your kind words. My wife was not ill, depressed about her mobility situation - yes, but quite well otherwise. Her illness came like a lightning bolt out of the blue. It took us unaware and knocked us to the ground. It hardly gave us time to react.
I’m so sorry.
Such a beautifully written, heartfelt piece. Wow, the image of the lily pads and heart-shaped leaf, and the timing of it. Ruth will be there with you now on your hikes, however difficult the trail. Peace and love to you John 🙏
Thank you Tania. I have thought of that. In fact, when I went outside right after her death I asked her to join me. She used to love walks down the driveway. I look forward to many adventures with her in the future.
"Suffice it to say that life can turn on a dime, and reality can change from predictable to un-sure or even a nightmare in the blink of an eye."
Indeed John. Indeed. 🙏🏻
Hold fast to the beauty of the world. 🌱
I will. Now, more than ever. Thank You.
Very moving post John. So sorry for your loss of Ruth who you clearly felt so strongly for and had made such wonderful memories with.
Your pictures really complement and add expression to your written thoughts and I appreciate how you openly share your deep inner experiences with all of us. Our thoughts are with you.
Thank you Andy.
John, you have put together another beautiful tribute to Ruth. When Andy and I met you this summer, before the storm, we talked about cameras and photography. You mentioned you wanted to practice writing. You are a writer. Thank goodness you and Ruth had some angels to help a little bit, to shepherd you as best as frail humans can do. And thank goodness you have your camera and your writing to help get you through this terrible time.
Thank you Michelle. Yes, thank goodness. I take solace in the goodness in the world.
What a beautiful tribute to Ruth. Man, we had great music growing up. We thought then it would always be this way. Not only in music, but in everything. Man, we were wrong. So much change; so much loss The last song has special significance to me.
Yes, change. We don't want it and yet it keeps coming. At an ever faster pace it seems. Why can't things just stay the same? As we grow older, our tolerance for change lessens, and yet our ability to manage change is our greatest challenge. Darwin's theory of evolution is often summarized as survival of the fittest, which is not something he actually ever said. But if he were to interpret what survival of the fittest means in the context of his theory, he would likely say something like... survival of the fittest means survival of those species most capable of adapting to change.
I threw that last song in at the end. It's the 11th song in the list of 10. I had it floating around in the back of my mind and when I listened to it in full it seemed perfect, even sublime, for my intended use. But Ruth wasn't a fan of the Mamas and The Papas. She wasn't into the Beach Boys either. We didn't share interests in all things. She had her likes and I had mine. We agreed on most things, but not all. That is normal. The last two tracks are not two she would have chosen, but then she didn't write the article. Neither am I very fond of some of the things I know about the lives of some of these musicians. Like any of us, we are imperfect, sometimes more than a little. I like to listen to music on its own terms and try as best I can to separate the music from the creators. I'm glad the song holds meaning for you. In my experience, music can soothe the soul in a way nothing else can.
A beautiful piece of writing and of photography, John, in tribute to Ruth, the one you loved, with whom you shared many things. Of living and of life. It is hard to see another suffer. I can't say I find meaning in suffering.
Nature provides us comfort and solace and, of course, beauty and truth, signs & wonders into another way of seeing. Your photos show us at least this much. Probably more. Windows into the soul of Nature. Windows into your own soul.
As for the music of our youth (I am 66), the 1960s and '70s cannot be beat. And the beat goes on.
Thank You Perry. Nature holds all of the answers because nature is really the only thing which is real. When we stop doing and just be, nature is who we are, not something outside of us, but a tiny component of the universal wholeness of existence. When our creative output aligns with this core foundation of nature, we become healed. Like yourself and Ruth, my foundation in music centres upon the music of the 60s and 70s. Experts say this is due to brain development. That we align to this music, these beats, this sensibility within our lives as teenagers. But I have found that if I open my mind, and opening one's mind is easy to do when listening to music, that music has never died. That it evolved and continues to evolve, which is more than can be said of the crap that comes from most radio stations. The Internet has opened up unimagined opportunities for both musicians and listeners. And yet, it is a paradox of modern living that unlike the golden years of rock where you didn't have to work at hearing the best music imaginable, today we must swim through oceans of polluted commercial mediocrity to find ourselves basking in isolated pools of brilliance every bit as good as the best of our youth. I never listen to radio. I grow tired of golden oldies stations by the second song played. But there is music these days being made that is every bit as good as the music of our youth. All of which is to say, yes, the beat does goes on. The day the music died has not yet arrieved and I believe it will never come. These modern offerings will never supplant the music of our youth because that is a personal treasure trove that no one can ever take away from us, but keep your ears open, your heart open for the music of today, because to close yourself off to it, would be a crying shame.
I am open to it, John, but the good music today is as rare as a pearl in an oyster. So much drek. There is also auto tune, AI and not enough musicianship working against my interests. The past set such a high bar.
I mean, is there something today as comparable to “Nights in White Satin”? (the song just popped into my head).
There is, however, a different kind of music in Nature. I think you know what I mean. Take care.
John, so sorry for your loss. This is a beautiful post about love, loss, resilience and photography. Thank you for sharing it with us. Love all the images. Take care.
Thank you Shitlal. It was difficult but rewarding to write. I think I needed to get it out to move forward.