Blame it on the angle of the sun. Or the time of year and of course, the time of day. The light that pours from north/north-west can be dramatic.
Just across the river, sleet swept across the town and highway leaving a hazy curtain. My side of the river, was cloaked in a heavy grey. Street lamps and headlights appeared like fireflies across a sloping field made of concrete, steel and boxy columns.
For a very brief moment, the light outside the office windows looked other worldly. The slow-moving cars on the viaduct above the north end of the city made me think of ants marching, certainly only as fast as the one at the front of the line.
The sleet finished its drop about as quickly as it started. The sun seared its way through the cloud cover creating a portal all its own. Perhaps not as soothing a sight as a rainbow, but with the sleet falling, certainly rarer and even more captivating.
Blow, blow, thou winter wind, Thou art not so unkind As man’s ingratitude; Thy tooth is not so keen, Because thou art not seen, Although thy breath be rude. Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly: Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly: Then, heigh-ho, the holly! This life is most jolly.
Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, That dost not bite so nigh As benefits forgot: Though thou the waters warp, Thy sting is not so sharp As friend remembered not. Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly…
I admit it. The above advertisement can be a bit unctuous. Still, with the impact of soci0-political flux, climate change etc. , it’s easy to take things for granted. The message is not lost on anyone at the firm, especially when it comes to working in the best interests of a client.
Have you ever seen this platitude expressed anywhere, let alone on a billboard opposite a major interstate? It certainly rings true. This is one of the most commented on and favored messages we post. And it’s up day & night during the month of November. Thanksgiving looms large on the minds of many though it should be top-of-mind on days before and after the holiday itself.
More than ever, I do believe thankfulness—more precisely gratitude—is short changed as a shared expression, either for yourself or toward others. We should acknowledge with greater gusto the treasures we are thankful for. The folks who receive assistance, education and more from any number of non-profit agencies are the beneficiaries of our time, effort and financial support.
Silent auctions, galas, dinners, concerts, stage performances and so forth are typical instruments optimized to collect money needed to fund various programs and to add resources.
No question, financial resources are invaluable and necessary. Yet we know that the beneficiaries of all sorts of programs are grateful receivers. The depth of their gratitude is palpable and none more so when a program is cut or discontinued.
But in this holiday season—as in any season, really—there’s still so much to do, so much to give, so much that requires money, time and personal effort. At the very least, understand the magnitude of gratitude, of how it can deliver to both giver and receiver a measure of confluence that is its own reward.
Though overcast, there’s a familiar brightness to the grey overhead. It looks and feels like snow is in the air. Forecasts notwithstanding, we’re expecting to get clobbered here in the northeast with record-cold temperatures.
Winter is en route.
Yet, in spite of this aura of grey that spills over the city, if we look close enough you can find various levels of warmth. Many of the objects seen, displayed and taken for granted in the roteness of our days can hint at or suggest a touch of warmth.
And while warm colors, hues and even some words or phrases can suggest some attribute of warmth, cold weather, specifically very cold weather, adds a bit of insouciance.
If you’ve spent most of your life in the northeast, a good number of you then understand finding this warmth. As the saying goes, “If you don’t like the weather, just wait a few minutes.”
If one would be literal about the sport of Polo, it could be more accurately described as “Field Hockey on Horses.” For the cognoscenti, it’s known as the sport of kings.
The Newport International Polo Series just finished its season at the end of September. While polo is often touted as a high-brow event, the match I attended was that and surprisingly much more than I expected: family, dogs, picnics, lively conversation, kids playing about, grown ups playing Bocche Ball, a game of catch, etc. all away from the playing field.
A congenial atmosphere on the grounds made it easy to enjoy the match and for the neophytes among us, a chance to learn more about a sport that demands much from horse and rider.
An entertaining task—and fun for many—was the half-time tradition of the divot stomp.
When I look at buildings—especially tall buildings—my thoughts bloom in ordered chaos. I’m immersed with a roster of details, the majority qualitative in nature.
How many companies are in there…? Love the bronze-colored curve separating the floors….It’s close to 6:30 pm and a lot of office lights are still on. Who’s staying late and why…? Who packs a lunch every day or buys it…? Wonder what the employee with the longest tenure does….Wonder what the annual cost is for water, electricity, insurance, taxes and health benefits…What’s the ratio of happy workers to unhappy ones…?
Those glass panels look so flat, but the reflections appear distorted or wobbly looking. And in most cases, a lot of those panels appear clean, at least from my viewing area far below on a sidewalk.
The one thought that bookends my wanderings is the thought that a bunch of talented workers had a lot to do in the creation of these vertical colonies. I can just hear a philosophical remark from either one of my two favorite protagonists—Charlie Brown and Linus van Pelt—“Could you imagine what could be achieved if every member of society collaborated with a baseline of common good and purpose for everyone….?“
In 2005, PBS aired a series entitled, “American Masters” which showcased the work of legendary if not ground breaking artists. I enjoyed watching the series, but one program struck a chord: Richard Avedon: Darkness and Light.
One comment in particular stuck with me. Essentially, Avedon mentioned “the landscape of the human face.” Lines, creases, smooth or rough, dark or light and every combination in between, a person’s countenance says a few things about an individual’s life journey and current life stage.
I suppose any season is good for “time travel.” Case in point: The Hancock Shaker Village in Pittsfield, Massachusetts. Throughout New England and other parts of the country, living museums provide a chance to feel what we could only imagine.
Such places serve to remind us of what we have. Or what we’ve lost.
On a particular Saturday evening, I was reminded of the power of conversation. The Shakers traditionally have family dinners, meaning you sit at a table–often a rather long one–and enjoy supper together. This particular night came via the Food for Thought series, a HSV summer event whereby one sits and enjoys a gourmet farm-to-table dinner and conversation. From June thru August, an author is invited to dine, discuss and engage about a recent book that she/he has published.
Traveler, award winning writer, bestselling author, Mr. Simon Winchester.
The narratives can be compelling. Unsurprisingly, there’s the conversation of getting-to-know a bit more about a person, not the least being the author who’s about to recount a journey of research, writing, editing and more.
Like the author, the guests had their own experiences to share. Most were familiar [snippets of life’s journey from a father-mother-engineer-lawyer-financial manager-medical doctor, e.g.], and others were fascinating to hear and talk about. In attendance was a young student of epidemiology, and I should have talked with him beyond his academic CV [Princeton, then John Hopkins]. It would’ve been fascinating to hear more about the rise of diseases and other ailments that can quickly wreak havoc on populations around the world.
The beauty of talking face-to-face is that beyond the words you hear, you’re also emotionally involved. Expressions, gestures and tone each hint at nuances that can be missed when engrossed with email and text messages.
I enjoy the various digital communication platforms and they can be timely if not helpful. However, there’s still something to be said about connecting with people face-to-face. And that kind of connection can make such a difference in your comings and goings day in, day out.
Carlo Centeno 