Over on Instagram
No Instagram images were found.
In the Spotlight
Worth 1,000 Words
In the Wild
Writing Topics on this Blog
Looking for Something?
- 76,968 hits
Top Posts & Pages
1inawesomewonder by Steve Beal Sr, is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
Based on a work at 1inawesomewonder.com.
Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at 1inawesomewonder.com.
What I am reading in Goodreads
Monthly Archives: August 2013Image Image
So, upon reaching our vacation destination in Maine, one of my top priorities was to sit in peace and read this book. That I did. Thank you J. I enjoyed this book very much.
Sometimes it still happens. Goodness appears without being beckoned. Last week a package arrived at my front door and it was addressed to me. I quickly racked my brain trying to recall if I had ordered anything or had been waiting for any items. Nothing came to mind. My wife encouraged me to open the box as she seemed to know what it was. So, open it, I did. The package gave no clues as to who this was from, and neither did the contents upon opening the box. It was a book. A book about the nuances and unwritten rules of our national pastime. A book on baseball, one I didn’t already own. I was happy to receive this gift but still didn’t know who it was from until I opened the front cover. There was a simple hand written note inside. The book was from a friend. A…
View original post 91 more words
It was the middle of the day when I climbed in A two seat canoe, a paddle, and me, I did begin The water was calm and close to crystal clear Moving through water, and birds, all I could hear Not a cloud to be found among the blue sky The sun warmed everything from up on high I imagined this place in a time centuries before Wishing it were then, and how I’d still explore I moved slowly, and quietly, letting my senses record The smells, the sounds, the sights, while aboard A faint noise from above sparked my heightened sense I moved toward the cattails and reeds oh so dense I squinted and searched for the origin of the sound And soon, a great blue heron in a spruce, I found Moving away to allow it some space, another sound I heard from across the cove and closer to the ground It was another heron calling, or at least to be heard When above my head appeared, yet another bird Passing the spruce and gliding in, a bald eagle did rise The majestic bird landed with grace before my eyes Once in his perch, silence ensued, nothing dared move Or so it seemed, but for me, my site to improve All at once a splash from behind, and I turned to see But nothing was there but ripples left for me Resuming my gaze the calm pierced masked in black The loon appeared from below, after a snack My masked playmate called another yards away The eagle, or not, the loons wanted to play Time stalled and rested with me there in the sun Sitting still in nature, watching, I was having fun My mind raced to the eras past, land minus flaw And I wondered what I missed among all I saw As self-imposed limits do, measurement moved me I paddled in, slowly, so as to stretch time, there to be The loons called across the water while the heron hid The eagle cleaned his wings, and I smiled like a big kid I left, wanting freedom for always, to just be The heron, an eagle, a pair of loons, and me
We have only been home for 2 1/2 days and I can’t wait to get back up to the Down East. Lord willing, we hope to return for a fourth consecutive year in August 2014.
On our, now annual, vacation to Down East Maine we trekked up to Beals Island. I love this little fishing village where my ancestors came from. The population was down to 508 people as of the 2010 census. Either way, crossing the bridge to the island, looking over the Moosabec Reach Area is beautiful every time. This was just one part of one day spent while we were in Maine for two weeks. We enjoyed our time in Maine as we always do, getting away from the speed and commotion of our everyday lives to a retreat of peace, and an absence of the technologies that pulls at our impulses most every other day of the year. After two weeks, not one of us wanted to come home.
Once the hummingbirds leaves the feeder, they are hard to find. This is the best my zoom could do from about 40 feet away.