Suzy's Blog/March,2007        Click for Suzy's Blog Summary


Suzy Smith
Our son worries big time. He even worries about worrying. He finds this a negative, disturbing characteristic.

I get that from you he tells me in a mildly accusatory tone of voice. The responsibilities of Motherhood, I think, always to blame. But before responding, I try not to get defensive, quickly think, what's the truth here?

He's right. Those 18 years he was growing up, I was twenty four to forty-two, big time worry years - the career, my place in the world, the mortgage, launching this child, yada, yada, yada. You name it, I worried about it. Am I alone in this? I don't think so. Those are big time worry years, part of the human condition.

I'll accept full responsibility I tell him. I read the fine print on your birth certificate, the part that says I am the source of everything that isn't right in your life and happily signed on the dotted line.

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Suzy Smith


Yesterday was overwhelming. I found myself without words or feelings to experience it. Nature had created the perfect day. I wanted to put my arms around it in a big embrace, hold on to it forever, and jump for joy.

I opened all the doors and the day walked in. All those flowering trees I have so lovingly planted over the years now blooming their hearts out, seemed to move in a little closer. The blue sky followed.

My park was full of birdsong, sunshine and shadows. The oak trees watched over me as I crossed the patterns their leafless limbs cast in my path. Overhead the red shouldered hawks cries pierced the day. I looked up to see him on top of a tall pine tree where he could see the bay on one side and the hills on the other. He was doing what birds are supposed to be doing in the spring procreating. What a great place to have sex. Had he noticed?

Coming toward me on the trail was a man with downcast eyes, headsets and an oversized Styrofoam cup of coffee in his hand. I wanted to tell him Stop, youve got it all wrong.


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Suzy Smith
Every few days, George Emails a list of eager recipients recent photographs he has taken. In the summer they are glorious scenes in and around Rocky Mountain National Park in Colorado. In the winter pictures of decaying Detroit. Both are beautiful and thought provoking.

Ive never met George, but signed up for his pictures through mutual friends who share a love of the mountains. He is not, to my knowledge, a professional photographer, just an avid one with a good eye and, I suspect, a good lens.

Since his pictures began arriving, Ive been seeing differently. I first noticed this during my walks in my nearby open space. Something would catch my eye, a fallen log covered with lichen, or a gnarled tree trunk. Id stop and wonder, how would George compose this scene? Then one day, without thinking much about it, I found myself composing what I saw myself. Next thing I knew, I was carrying a camera taking my own pictures.

They say God is in the details. With a camera in hand you begin to notice them. Im walking the trails Ive always walked, but my world has expanded.

Bless you George.


George - decaying Detroit

George - an early Colorado Snowstorm

Suzy - Me and my shadow

Suzy - friend in the park

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