A tribute

Reasons why J.K. Rowling is not only an incredibly imaginative writer, but an incredibly perceptive person:

1. Dementors suck the happy memories out and it's cold around them and if they get close enough they get your soul too. It takes happy thoughts to get rid of them, plus a spell that involves a white spirit of an animal, and once you've been around dementors the best therapy is chocolate.

2. Bogarts take the form of your greatest fear when you let them out of their dark hiding places. The spell to get rid of them includes laughter and the word spelled something like: Riddikulus.

3. Love and loyalty overcome darkness and evil. Over and again.

4. Being good to different kinds of people and personalities (elves, giants, spiders, goblins, centaurs) makes the world a better and fairer place.

5. Friendship and bravery are more important than knowledge and cleverness (that might even be a direct quote from book I). Goodness is better than greatness.

6. Spirits live on after death and watch and guide those still on earth.

7. Remorse puts a bad soul back together.

8. It's not what you're born, it's what you become. Our choices, rather than our abilities, show who we really are. (Also quoting here and there.)


There's more, and it's wrapped in the delightful series of Harry Potter adventures. I commend J.K. Rowling for doing what Brothers' Grimm and Disney did not do in their story telling -- for suggesting profound truths as she wove her tales.

Harry Potter's adventures -- and more -- are found in the light and airy Salt Lake City Library. A great place to not only get a book -- but to sit down and read it!

It's good to be slow

Timing is everything.
Well, maybe not everything. Somebody said that somewhere, but maybe when they said it they were exaggerating and when I say it because it sounds familiar, I'm exaggerating too.
But timing is definitely something.
Because sometimes you have to be fast -- like when photographing fireworks. And sometimes you have to be slow -- like when photographing the moon.
Could I put a plug in for slow?
For not hurrying. For not trying to do everything. For not rushing from one thing to another.
I like slow.
Not because I don't go fast a lot.
But because I go fast often enough to appreciate going slow.

I like it when the sun shines on my lighthouses.

Yes, they're not really mine. You know that. I know that. But at the moment I capture them in my lens at just the right angle and take them into my camera to save for what I hope will be forever, I feel like something of them -- maybe only for only the tiniest moment -- is mine.

I like it when the sun shines on them. It makes everything warmer and happier and the colors brighter and more dynamic.

But I know lighthouses were made for the times that everything's gray and you can't tell the sea from the sky and you aren't sure where you're going and you know you might run into trouble in getting there. And that's perhaps more dramatic.

I'm glad for sunshine. And I'm also glad that there is still beauty -- and direction - - when there's gray.

Things you learn at the beach

Some birds soar, others flap --- hard.
Sun and rain alternates and a bad day can turn into a good one.
And vice versa.
Everything's prettier in the sun.
Everybody's happier in the sun.
Some birds pick at other birds.
Big kids run, little kids scramble --- but eventually get to the same place.
Kids can find adventures for hours.
Time goes slowly.
Pelicans fly in groups, hunt alone.
Sand gets in everything.
Little girl toddlers don't like to get sand between their fingers.
Little boy toddlers get sand everywhere and don't even notice.
Big brothers watch out for smaller ones.
Treasures wash up and appear unexpectedly.
Broken shells and rounded rocks are treasures.
Kites soar effortlessly.
Sun warms the soul.
Tree harvests in view of the beach are depressing.
Lighthouses, though manmade, actually compliment nature.
Eyes follow movement.
Waves and people are always moving.
Even little houses are expensive.
It's easier to walk with the wind than against it.
Resistence of the waves agains the rocks make the most impressive splash.
Minds expand in nature's expanse.

'Didn't know there was any place like this left

It's quiet.

Even serene.

There are not many people across the small island. Mostly two-lane roads that wind between farms and past quaint houses and darling churches.

Roads that wander through fields of harvested hay and calm inland lakes and little harbors with their lobster boats to little towns so small it's a wonder they have a name.

Roads that lead pastures with horses and paddocks with sheep to sandy beaches and red cliffs and lighthouses.

Charming.

Tranquil.

Even the people:

The little man at the lobster bar and cafe who told us with delight about the bottle buildings and seaweed pie on the west side of the island and singing sands on the east.

The older gentleman who stopped to ask us where we were from and tell us how he loves living on the quiet island.

The girl with the darling lilt in her voice -- almost Scottish -- who brought us warm bread pudding and chocolate zucchini cake drowned in brown-sugar sauce.

The tired waitress who offered us a discount when we couldn't finish our seafood fettucini.

The woman in the national park concession who wanted to know where we were from and tell about the people who came yesterday.

The men on the dock who were scooping mackerel for their lobster traps and offered us some of their catch.

The lady at the lighthouse who told us about when the strait would freeze over.

There is beauty in the land and in its people.

It inspired L.M. Montgomery. It inspired us.

Prince Edward Island.