Below the ‘read more’ cut are a few of the photos I’ve taken in the last couple of weeks. In some ways or others, they’ve captivated me. Whether the shadows playing through the curtains early in the morning or the fairy cave in the garden at work, they drew my eye away from the mundanety of my working day and took me on a journey to far away lands in my own backyard, sometimes literally in my own backyard.
Look deeply at these photos. Notice the colors, the shadows, the nature budding and growing, and in one case, its season ending while our spring is just beginning.
In the last photo, I saw the Empire State Building and the new World Trade Center (my name for it, if not its official title). The blue sky, the shining grey buildings, the sparkling water between our bridge and the island of Manhattan. It is a bittersweet scene. If you’ve read my thoughts here for awhile, you’ll know that on September 10th we were crossing this bridge heading home from a weekend with our family on Long Island. The next day changed everything for everyone.
What if the last two years could have been like the last week or so?
Getting to know the astronauts of the Artemis II. The collaboration between two countries, the best friends for the ages…before. The three men and one woman, flying faster than any of us, save a small handful have flown before. Working together. Laughing. Joking. Talking to their families. Talking to us. Showing us the stars. As television studios think they know what we want, what we long for, we watch the livestream of a government department from the outskirts of our little corner of the solar system. We hang on every photo. We cried with joy and sadness when the friends named a crater after one of their team who didn’t live to see this moment. Carroll. She was a spouse, and she was part of the team, because none of us can get where we are, can do what we do with support, and for these four astronauts, their families are their support, taking care of the homelife. Sacrificing in different ways. Like us, holding their breath but never saying the scary parts out loud. It’s different for them.
The best of humanity looking at the rest of humanity. Words of wisdom, words of faith, words of friendship.
I love the moon. I’ve written about the moon several times right here. I’ve been in love with the moon since my first memory, although to be fair it’s a family memory that I’ve adopted as my own since it was about me. I have been told that I watched the moon landing in 1969. I was two and a half years old, and I was so excited. I have uncles, my father’s brothers who are named Neil and Buzzy, and I thought they were the ones on the moon. Easy to be confused. In our first real apartment, the moon shone in our bedroom window, something I really missed in every other place we’ve lived. I loved (and continue to love) to sleep in the moonlight. I will often hold my hand up just to see it in the light of the moon. In the coldest night, I’ve tried to watch eclipses, standing on my front porch going inside to warm up every few minutes until it was over.
There is something special about the moon and the people who travel there and beyond.
Remember their names:
NASA astronauts Commander Reid Wiseman, Pilot Victor Glover, Mission Specialist Christina Koch, and Canada Space Agency (CSA) astronaut Mission Specialist Jeremy Hansen.
We were in Canada a couple of years ago and visited the Canada Aviation and Space Museum in Ottawa, and the one pin I collected from there was the Canada Space Agency, so when it was mentioned this week that Jeremy Hansen was a Canadian astronaut and part of that agency, I went to my pin collection and began wearing this one.
I’ll keep it on for a few days or longer past splashdown which is tonight at 8:07pm. As GenX, I may wait until they are safely out before I turn on the television. This has been a remarkable week. It has brought me a peace in the chaos, a stop on the journey, and something I haven’t felt for a long time – a lifting up; aspiration and inspiration. As I implied at the beginning, we can get through anything together.
We can. We will. We are.
I leave you with the words of astronaut and pilot for this mission, Victor Glover who said earlier this week:
“I think these observances are important, as we are so far from Earth and looking back at the beauty of creation. I think for me, one of the really important personal perspectives that I have up here is I can really see Earth as one thing.
And you know, when I read the Bible, and I look at all of the amazing things that were done for us, who we’re created, it’s…you have this amazing place, this spaceship. You guys are talking to us because we’re in a spaceship really far from Earth. But you’re on a spaceship called Earth that was created to give us a place to live in the universe, in the cosmos.
Maybe the distance we are from you makes you think what we’re doing is special. But we’re the same distance from you, and I’m trying to tell you—just trust me—you are special. In all of this emptiness—this is a whole bunch of nothing, this thing we call the universe—you have this oasis, this beautiful place that we get to exist together.
I think as we go into Easter Sunday, thinking about all the cultures all around the world, whether you celebrate it or not, whether you believe in God or not, this is an opportunity for us to remember where we are, who we are, and that we are the same thing, and that we got to get through this together.”
Photos from NASA.
(c)2026
Go to nasa.gov/artemis-ii for more photos from space.
When I recently saw these two pictures they struck me deeply. I was seeing things that I hadn’t considered before; hadn’t noticed, but then when I’d finally seen what was there all along, it was like a revelation. A sunrise. A shining spiritual moment.
Wandering through Target, checking out the holiday goodies and displays, and I saw their plastic tableware along the main aisle.
Before I could even be intrigued, I saw that someone else had already put this smaller plate on top of the large charger, and I loved how it looked. I didn’t touch it. I didn’t change it. I simply photographed it, and went on my merry way.
I hope to use this as inspiration for a simpler holiday; something quiet and unobtrusive that has meaning without forcing it to have meaning.
These leaves, the first before I voted, and the second, after stuck with me throughout the day. I ignored pundits. I ignored mainstream media. I ignored social media. And in the end, for the most part the inspiration held.
Blue.
Blue.
Blue.
From Pennsylvania to Mississippi to Georgia, even to Florida.
In 364 days, change is coming, and there is nothing the corrupt, the sychophant, the traitorous, the racist can do about it.
We will take back our democracy.
Tomorrow, I’ll share with you some of those people doing the work for democracy, for our future, and for our children.
Does anyone remember those popular souvenir shop t-shirts? My parents went to Florida, South of the Border, Gettysburg, and all I got was this lousy* t-shirt? My husband said no one would remember them, but I remember them. I think we all got one at one point, but they are long in the bin of history.
As I’ve written last week, I had to have surgery on my achilles tendon, so our vacation was cancelled; however, we sent our kids for half of the vacation since there was a “comic” convention, Fan Expo Canada. The three of them had never gone away alone together, and they all came back in one piece, and hopefully with stronger relationships than when they left. I had concerns about crossing the border, but I grew up going to Canada all my life, and I feel that they are an extension of New York and vice versa.
I thought for this month’s inspiration, I would share a few collages of some of the things my kids brought back for me. Some were requested (the clothes and stationery items) and others were surprises, especially Niagara Falls. (*Nothing in here represents anything lousy!)
As I was walking into my house a couple of days ago, my eye caught this feather sticking out of the grass. I can’t imagine what kind of bird it came from; I’ve never seen those colors around here before, but I really thought it was beautiful.
I stopped to take a picture.
I’ve always been told not to pick up feathers because they’re often dirty – the feathers are shed when the bird defecates, so I left it there, figuring that maybe another bird will collect it to feather their nest.
When I went out the next morning, it was still there.
I decided that I should take it after all. I picked it up with a napkin, and when I got to work washed it off, and let it dry on my desk.
I’m going to add it to my new journal as part of my new project of “gathering the fragments” that came up during my recent retreat.
The last few weeks have been nothing short of active, and I hope I’ve gotten through it with less scathing than would be normal for this kind of busyness. This post will be part mental health check-in, part inspired, part goal-setting.
Mental Health Check-in for Week 3 of July
I went back to my original post to see what the goals were that I thought I needed to focus on, and this was less than helpful. Goals and goalposts are constantly being adjusted. Looking at the biggest priorities, it’s still been iffy. Although to be fair to myself, I’ve been busy and not wasting time and opportunities, so while it’s been slow-going, it has still been going.
This is very much a positive.
Where are we this week?
I was working on my presentation until about 7pm the night before. I realized there comes a point when it just needs to be done. I laid everything out on index cards, and did my thing. It was fantastic. I think everyone liked it and learned something new about St. Kateri Tekakwitha. I was able to constructively see things that I would change. I did a little improvisation and even though I finished later than planned, I was able to end on a decent note, and skipped a few slides at the end, and no one was the wiser. All in all, a good experience. I’m willing to do another powerpoint, although I’m hoping someone else presents it.
Work. July 8th, I began working full-time. I haven’t worked full-time (outside the house) since my now-twenty-eight year old was two. It is a big adjustment for everyone, but my family is being supportive and picking up some tasks, and my co-workers and colleagues are amazing.
Cursillo needs attention.
I mentioned that I was going to avoid snoozing my alarms. I’ve still snoozed, but not as much and it’s made me more aware of what I need to do in the mornings to get out the door more efficiently.
I’m disappointed in how our government is being run. I’m disgusted and repulsed by the Republican party, their hypocrisy, and their hatred. I don’t know how we come back from this precipice or how we survive.
Mental health check-in = EH.
And now for some inspiration!
I’m looking forward to taking my presentation and using it to push my book in the right direction. Below the cut are some of my inspiring and inspired photos from St. Kateri Tekakwitha’s feast day weekend.
When we were in Montreal last August, we were driving down one of the city’s streets on our way to Notre Dame Cathedral. It was our first time visiting the cathedral – it had been closed the year before when we tried. I was looking out the window – I’m always on the lookout for an unusual picture, and I saw a giant bird. Was that a bird? I asked my family. I think that was a dodo bird. I don’t know how I knew it was a dodo bird, but they thought I was seeing things. One google search showed that I wasn’t. It was really there. When we went last week, I made sure to put the dodo bird on my list of things to take a picture of.
It did not disappoint.
Most of the trip was to do research for the book I’m writing about St. Kateri Tekakwitha, and while I wasn’t able to look at documents, I did speak to some people, attended two masses, and received a wealth of information – all of it inspiring. The second mass was a surprise, and the priests were two traveling priests who said mass for the four of us in the church at the time. The homily was about Mary at the crucifixion, and I was moved to tears by not only this man’s words, his sermon, his preaching, but his excitement. He was just thrilled to be talking to us about our mother, Mary. It was a beautiful thing.
On our last day, we went to see the original burial place of St. Kateri, which is marked by an empty tomb (cenotaph) in Sainte-Catherine. I had been there before; this was the first Kateri place in Canada that I had been to initially, but I wanted some photos closer to the water that flowed behind the shrine. Water is important in the story of Kateri’s people and where they located their villages. I got there, and I stood for a moment, just looking around. I was overcome with the scent of flowers. It was so strong, like lilies or hyacinth. Hyacinth has that very strong, powerful, flowery aroma.
I looked around to find where the strong smell was coming from, but there was nothing. There were flowers, pines, grass, and a shrub or two. I even put my face into some of the colorful flowers that were budding there, but none of them gave off that smell. Nothing there could explain the scent. As one of my writing colleagues said the other night maybe St. Kateri was communicating something to me. She was called the Lily of the Mohawk, so maybe they were right. Whatever caused that remarkable moment I may never know, but it remains inspiring and wonderful all the same.
New dragonfly earrings. New Spring Things for my Desk – Living on the Hedge. Forsythia in Vase. Cardinal in my backyard. It stayed a long time. (c)2025
Griffins and Ginger Snaps 