“What did you do as a child that created timelessness, that made you forget time? There lies the myth to live by.”

Joseph Campbell

As a child, I had a feeling of timelessness when I was engulfed in Nature.

Watching a sunrise on the shoreline of Lake Michigan, its sandy stretch of crushed seashells and pebbles tickled by an ever-lapping lick of the lake water on the land.

Exploring a corner sandlot, undeveloped, unconstrained by concrete and buildings, with tall trees and half-exposed roots stretched around and over me.

Nature was there even riding in the car with my father to the country to get fresh sweet corn, the window open and the air streaming over my upturned little face, watching the vastness of the cloud-spattered blue sky streaking by.

To me, this was the timelessness that Campbell speaks of—the type that was infinite and that exposed the beauty and secret corners of nature.

Another kind of timelessness is a blanking out of time—a numbness to time. It was solving problems, and being paid to do so. A job. Perhaps not always as much fun as being out in nature, but a nice way to pass the time and get paid for it. Raise a family from it. Take my own kids on a vacation in nature.

Working in information technology, I was the magician, taming the machine to do what the client needed, to save that user profile or lookup an insurance claim payment.

Now, I am retired from corporate life, no longer bound to solve those problems. I seek more and more of the first kind of timelessness. And I will create more photographs along the way that remind me of those timeless times.

Note: Corn and tree root Images on this post are courtesy of Pexel.com

One of my earliest childhood memories of joyfulness was taking my friends down to the corner sandlot and exploring.  In there, among the trees and the bushes and sandpits we could find a world of adventure, away from the grownups, exploring “nature”.  Or, were we exploring our own nature?

Fall panorama in Morton Arboretum

Since then I’ve morphed into a what I thought a grownup should be, and spent most of my life putting away the sandlot explorations in pursuit of the almighty dollar. With the market crash of 2008-2009, some of those dollars vanished.  I wondered if my quest for sandlot adventures had vanished too.

With some nudging from a dear spiritual teacher, I discovered that the world was still my sandlot.   I enjoyed being in nature, and photography became my focusing lens to help me to concentrate on beauty and the seeing of it.

Photography has brought me many benefits:

• The busy one who has been chasing the buck has found beauty and an increased intelligence about what my emotions are telling me (gift of feeling)
• The introverted one who is unsure around others has found confidence (gift of self-esteem)
• The quiet, reserved soul has found a way to connect with others (gift of leadership)
• The Capricorn soul who is always carrying such burdens of doingness has had his load enlightened (gift of wisdom)
• The sandlot explorer has reclaimed his childhood joy of discovery by capturing the beauty of the world (gift of wonder)

What a beautiful place!  Waterfalls!  Sunrises!  Sunsets!  The Moon and Stars!  Canyons! Mountains!  Rivers!  Oceans!

Water Color
Cannon Beach, Oregon

Lake Moraine Sunrise
Banff National Park, Canadian Rockies

Little River Sunrise
Great Smoky Mountains NP

Haystack Moonset IV
Cannon Beach, Oregon

LaTourell Falls I
Columbia River Gorge, Oregon

Perfect Moon Waves
Cape Cod National Seashore

Hickoy Nut Falls I
Chimney Rock State Park, North Carolina

Beauty helps us to recognize who we are.  We are all explorers, and creators of our own lives. Let us share in the joy of creating with the One who created all. It starts in the choices of the mind …

“The mind is its own place and in itself, can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven.”  ~~ John Milton

Saturday Night Pacific
Oregon Coast

My wish for you in this season of Light — Have a Joyful, Heavenly Holiday, and an Amazingly Beautiful 2018!

— Harry Hitzeman