Did you ever play when you were kids? When a VW Beetle would pass by you could punch your seatmate in the arm or the leg and shout “Punch Buggy no Punch Backs!” The no punch backs part was important because without those protective words you could get a punch back for the same car!

The rules and names of the game are variable, I’ve read that other people call the game “Slug Bug”, colour and year of the car are factored in as is the unique double punch some people claim for a convertible.

Barry and I started playing Punch Buggy recently, it is not something that he grew up with and he was surprised the day I punched him in the arm and yelled in his ear, filled with glee because I saw it first!  So now, we play, we have our own unique set of rules which include not being able to use a neighbourhood bug parked near our house which never moves and is no longer fair game. We shout the colour of the car, “Orange Punch Buggy No Punch Backs”. No punching on new beetles, only vintage cars.  Iphone photos sent in an email are acceptable, however, the satisfaction of the punch doesn’t happen so it is best to take the photo, save it and spring it on your unsuspecting partner by inviting them to “see this great picture I took today!”

This morning on our drive to work in our Volkswagen Golf, I discovered that my husband has been looking at vintage VW Beetles on Ebay. Our game playing has led to a new fascination and the fantasy that maybe it would be fun to own one.

We are remembering VW’s that existed in our youth, his memory is of one that the windows had to stay down a crack in the winter or you had to scrape the ice off the inside of the windshield.  I was remembering the distinctive smell of the White Knight, my brother-in-law’s VW the one with the door that had to be held closed with a bungee cord.   There was a movie too, wasn’t there?  The Love Bug?  I think I may have seen that at a drive-in theatre.

Volkswagen Bugs, Drive-in Theatres, games played on long car drives – as the days of summer grow shorter, these distinctive memories make me treasure these times so much more.

It’s back to school time, a time for finding the rhythm of a new season, it’s also a time to remember to play a bit, go back in time and find the pleasure of things remembered.

XO

Kath
(photo credit to my sister, Margie – thx!)

Blanketed in thick fog and mist..the world was silent.

Motionless.

Not a bird singing..nor even the sound of scampering squirrel’s feet. Everything – in that moment – was standing perfectly still. Immovable. As if nothing could ever..or would ever change.

The sun had not yet fully risen.

In the beginning it was just the faintest hint. An outline. A bird – perhaps – camouflaged and hidden. The fog rolled in…and rolled out. It swirled itself around her…dancing shadows. She sat. Perched and poised. Focused…with an almost drishti-like motionless gaze. Her eyes were on the prize..and nothing was going to distract her.

As I watched and observed and hoped to preserve this precise moment thru my camera’s lens. …I began to think about how impermanent everything that appears to be truly permanent is. In one moment – I couldn’t see. In the next – I could. As I knelt at the water’s edge..my vision and view changed and evolved. She appeared – at first – only a fantasy…an apparition…a dream. And then – as the sun began to have its way -  she became so very real.

The seasons – I can see and feel – are transforming themselves before me. The days are shrinking..growing perceptibly shorter. The sunlit hours are diminishing. The sun’s rise is a full hour later than it was just yesterday..or so it seems. And it’s setting now happens long before anyone is ready to even think about going to bed. What was once a beautiful lush green..is too quickly fading. The first of the summer leaves are falling…a forewarning of what’s to come.

It’s all so fleeting. Blink for an instant..and it’ll pass you right by. This exact moment…just as it is. It will never happen quite like it ever again. This light. This bird. This fog and this mist. My happening to be here on this particular morning in this quiet with my dog at my feet. It’s all so transient. We are.

Great thinkers and philosophers have written volumes about this subject. This one of impermanence..of change..of the ebb and flow and natural tides of life. No feeling is final. Nothing lasts forever. Everything exists in a complete state of incompleteness. We all change. We all grow. Life happens. People come..and people go.  And yet – in it there is a continuity that anchors and grounds. Things – on which we can always count and depend. That – for centuries – birds like this have perched themselves – rooted and unwavering – hunting down their morning meal. That – succulent green summers transpose themselves into golden autumns…. then fade into silvery winter…. which always melt into soft springs. That  - we turn around..time after time…and over..and begin again.

People die. Babies are born. Life’s cycles continue.

What is it – I wondered – that I am doing here…on this morning with my camera-in-hand and dog-at-my feet? Am I simply bearing witness to this particular moment? Or – am I preserving it and recording it for all of time –  past and present and for what’s to come? I wondered if this practice of photography is one of distant observation and non-attachment..or if it’s one of deep and meaningful connection? To the universe? To all of man and animal-kind?  All this – I thought – as I sat…as I watched. The rolling fog playing tricks with my mind’s eyes.

And – like that blue heron taking shape before me..I sat perched…poised…focused on that prize. Taking it all in..but seeing only thru the lens of my camera. In complete peace – with myself and the world. Determined to make permanent the impermanence of this moment..to hold on to and preserve it..and never let it go.

With one easy click – it was done.

I am sitting at my desk on my lunch hour, sipping a cup of chilled cucumber soup*. I was completely grounded this past week, working to a routine, feeling inspired, I thought I had myself organized to sit and write on Sunday. And then like all good plans, my plan grew misty and out of focus as it faded away when we decided to list our house for sale. Yes, again – it didn’t sell the first time around. As we shifted our focus we found ourselves meeting with realtors, fluffing and folding for a photography session, making charts about financial expectations and focusing completely on the house. As I sit here trying to focus on this piece, my head is filling with mental post-it notes, little multi-coloured stickums gathering on the walls of my cranium, “clean the oven”, “pull the weeds in the back garden”, “organize the linen cupboard”, “blah blah”, “This”, “That”!!!  I realize that in shifting focus, I have no focus. Being out of focus distresses me, I cannot operate in chaos. Tonight I will have to pull out a notebook, a fresh new one, I have the one my sister bought me on our holiday – it will be perfect to keep me organized.

The thought of making a list calms me, I can choose a few things  each day, focus on them and get everything done without wearing myself out. I can make notes of who I talk to and when we talked, who is doing what and when they are doing it.  One green notebook, a saviour that will take the pressure off my brain. Even without the book in hand, I proceed to plan my evening, choosing one or two projects that I can accomplish that will have a big impact. The most important being to make some lists.

My focus shifts back to the present for a moment, the cucumber soup is lovely, crunchy and cold, sweet and tart. As quickly as I focus on the taste, my mind shifts and surprises me with the knowledge that it is Tuesday.

I pick up my box of vegetables & fruit from my organic farmer every Tuesday.  As a member of a Community Supported Agriculture Farm I am enjoying the bounty of the season. Tuesday night means pulling on an apron and spending a few hours in my gorgeous kitchen ensuring that the freshness of summer is sealed away so that this winter we can enjoy the fruits of my labours … pots boiling, ice baths ready, freezer bags labeled, that’s what Tuesday night is. So tonight I have that to add to the list. Oops.

My focus shifts to the future. I have registered for a credit course in advanced photography which will start September 14. Every Tuesday night for a semester. Oh. Tuesday. Double oops.

I have to grab that notebook the minute I get home and put it in to service, it would seem that I have double booked myself all the while expecting that I will keep the house in sparkling condition. Triple oops.

What am I going to focus on?  I only have so many hours in an evening. What have I done? I can feel the panic rising.

Okay, stop, breathe & focus. I know what I’ve done and I know what I can do. I can consciously decide that this is an exciting time, a time of moving forward and learning, a time of planning and preparing for the future, this time is what it is, this time is now. I CAN do it all, one thing at a time and I will accomplish this spectacular feat by focusing on right now.

Right now means enjoying my soup and when my soup, like this essay, is done, I shall say, “Yum.”And move on to the next thing on the list in my green book.

XO

Kath

*seriously easy: peel & chop 2 cups of cucumber, add 2 cups greek style yogurt, 2 tsp honey, 2 tsp chopped mint, 1 clove of garlic – blend with an immersion or stand blender and serve very cold