This Past Month & a Half: Florida, Cleveland, Chicago, San Luis Potosi..

A few people have asked after my blog.  I've gone tramping again, as is my wont, and had promised I would write about it all for those who might care to keep tabs on my peregrinations.

First,  I did in fact finish my grand tour of Florida that I was blogging earlier here.  Because I am a veteran, the State of Florida issued me a free entrance pass to all state parks.  I decided that I wanted to see the state, and used the parks as waypoints along that way.  My parents visited all 120 parks in three years, and I decided that I would do the same feat in two months.  I actually made it to 119 parks in seven weeks.  I saved the last, Silver River SP in Ocala for last, because it is 45 minutes from Lady Lake, my home base.   I thought I would jump up the last week, and do a quick drive by.  But I never did..  Until week nine.    Two months and one week after I began, I finally garnered my last stamp in my nifty Florida State Park Passport, which I can now send of to Tallahassee to get a free Florida State Parks license plate for the front of my car.

Which I am selling.  Emma and I have had some good times together, but I've decided that I want to simplify my life, and that she has to go.  Anyone interested in buying a 2010 VW Jetta TDI Sportwagen can email me.

Anyhow, I was going to write a post on how much I've learnt about, and grown to like Florida (it's really a very interesting place)  but I never got the inspiration.  

I've felt rather listless, depressed this last month.  

Even before Geoff killed himself.  

An old Army friend of mine, who used to comment frequently on my old Swiss blog, committed suicide two weeks ago by overdosing on sleeping pills.  There's a story behind that act, one that belongs to him, and that I won't tell here.  Nothing lurid, just pain and a faithless woman.  

I was shocked and devastated by that news, and decided that I was going to alter my previous plan of heading to Chicago last week to visit my brother, so I could attend the wake and funeral of my friend and be with his family in Cleveland.  

Geoff's was an Irish wake.  Stories, jokes, a few beers, barbecue and a gluttonous repast of sushi.   I hadn't been able to eat for two days before I got there, I was so upset.  Being with them was catharsis.

This is a picture of Geoff's dad feeding beer to their dog.  

In true Brachvogel style.   Geoff always made me laugh.  


I then went to Chicago to spend the week with my brother's family.  These are my nieces, Shunie and Skaya:

I then left for Mexico.   I took the train to San Antonio, and then threw a metaphorical dart at the map of Mexico.   I needed out, no matter where.

That's how I serendipitously ended up here:

 

San Luis Potosi.  The very heart of Mexico.  Over one mile high in the Sierra Madres.   Settled by Franciscan missionaries in 1593, it has a storied history.

Lots of baroque churches and verdant plazas.  A very pretty place.  

I've been here a week, just being a gringo in Mexico.  My heart is becoming calm.  I like it here. 

That last image is what you see when you lean out the window of my (very cheap and quite fine) hotel

room.   La Plaza de Armas and the city's cathedral.   There is singing in the streets every afternoon and night, and the food is great.  

I accidentally left my camera's battery re-charger in my hotel back in San Antonio.  I have to buy a new one, and nobody sells Nikon accessories here.  This means I probably need to go to Guadalajara to replace it..

Pictures will likely be scarce until I resolve that issue..

There.  There's a lame post for you all.   I'll try to get back into the swing of this thing.  No promises, though.

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Glossarium: Thoughts On the Humility of Truth

As I'm driving about and finishing my grand tour of the peninsula, I've been thinking about this here blog, and all the things I've created it to say.   I've said virtually none of it yet, because of the overweening aspect of it all.    


Throw my thoughts upon the void impassive..  Strew my pearls..  


It needs to be said well, if at all.   


So far I've been coy.  I've been amusing myself that way, but also unsure of how - or even whether - to begin being explicit.   I want to start gently, and give my testimony in a way that the dozen or so people that  I want to hear it (and if they are so moved, respond somehow to it) to hear it well.  


Today, I realized that I feel ready to start saying it.   No time like the present, no moment like now.  So I will say what I've been holding to my heart all these years..  The secret work of my heart all this time, that has made my live the seared blessing that it has become.


First, I need to explain a few terms.  If you notice, I've been tagging my posts here.   I want to explain what I mean by a few of them, so that if you care to follow this blog and really understand what I am trying to say, you will. 


This afternoon I was listening to NPR and Neil Conan was interviewing this fellow about "apocalyptic" movies.   They were joking that the segment had nothing to do with the previous ones in which we learnt that London is burning, world markets collapsing, tanks are rolling the streets of Damascus, and the recession deepening.   They rattled on for a while, and talked about a bunch of movies in which the human race is almost or entirely annihilated by one thing or another, usually some combination of our own hubris and stupidity or alien invasion or natural holocaust.    


As listened I realized that they weren't going to talk about the origins of the term, about what the word "apocalypse" means.   Let me do it for you here.   This the etymology my dictionary gives the word:


ORIGIN Old English, via Old French andecclesiastical Latin from Greek apokalupsis, from apokaluptein ‘uncover, reveal,’ from apo- ‘un-’+ kaluptein ‘to cover.’


This word entered our lexicon by way of the Bible, of course.  It is used as a title of the last book of the New Testament, which is (if you did not know) written in Greek.   That book is the account of a prophetic dream attributed to the Apostle (Greek for "messenger") John, the only one of the 14 apostles (I include Judas, Matthais and Paul) to die a natural death.   Judas killed himself, and all the others were all martyred (Greek "to witness") for their faith in Christ.  


John, not incidentally, is the only one of the twelve who did not run away from the Crucifixion, and remained at the foot of the Cross.  


Wikipedia says that the name John derives via Latin Iōhannēs and Greek Ἰωάννης from the Hebrew name יוחנן (Yôḥanan, also transliterated Yochanan), a short form of the long name יְהוֹחָנָן Yehochanan, meaning "Yaweh is merciful".  


Now, why am I telling you all this?   If you notice, I've tagged a lot of the posts here with that word, apocalypse.   And when I do it, I am usually not (usually most often emphatically not) referring you to the end of the world, or to tribulations like those that Neil Conan and his guest were calling "apocalyptic" in those films.   Like I say, not normally..  


Instead, what I mean is that I think that whatever I am writing about is revelation of the hidden truth, the true nature of things, of veiled unappreciated goodness, veiled (often widely accepted) evil.  The way we, and things, truly are.  The beauty deep down things, or else the tricks that wicked bastards are doing in the shadows..  Things that people aren't noticing or being honest about, the subtle things that admit transcendence, the wickedness that we do to benefit ourselves and that harms others.


You know, all that which is "occult"  (from Latin occultare ‘secrete,’ frequentative of occulere‘conceal,’ based on celare ‘to hide’; the adjective and noun from occult- ‘covered over,’ from the verb occulere ).


Those things "seen through the glass darkly.."


These things are not usually "occult" in the sensational sense.  But evil things are always in the end diabolical, and the most evil people ultimately become satanic, in that they consciously revolt against the good and begin to worship their own wills which are evil.  And that is inevitably demonic and then spiritually uncouth in all the ways that people normally think "occult."


When I use "occult" as a tag on this here blog, I mean that I'm usually talking about something malevolent or diseased that is disguised, subtle or hidden.   Or, something beautiful that is gentle and unappreciated.


Which brings me to the issue of knowledge.  Gnosis, science, wisdom.   Love.   


Knowledge of good and evil.


Which is of course tantamount with knowing the truth.  The truth that shall set us free.


My ultimate message here, the thing that I want finally  to tell you, is that that truth exists.


Because what is is true, and that is inescapable.


We can either accept truth, witness and worship it, or else reject it and lie.  We either see that we serve the truth, and are subject to it, or else seek to escape it and deny it.


If we acknowledge our dependence upon the truth, our need for it.. If we see that we cannot control the truth or destroy it..


And that the truth will necessarily humiliate us, make us see ourselves and others as we really are..


That the truth is not in the end of the intellect, but rather of the heart..


That the truth, like everything good and real, is personal..  is indeed, a person.


This is my faith.  My testimony.   My heart knows it is so.




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Pictures of the Day: Valdosta, Georgia

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Pictures of the Past Week: The Florida Panhandle

I took this with my crappy camera.  The Florida Caverns.

Happy Cows are from Florida..

Red Dirt Road.. Floridian Idyll.

Blackwater River:  Much, much more impressive in person than in this picture.. This river begs for an intertube or canoe.   I have a canvas chair that I planted in the middle of it (it's only about 6" deep in some of the middle parts) and read a couple chapters of Franscico de Osuna there.  Nothing like a little mystical recollection for a summer southern afternoon..

5 Turtles Sunning Themselves on a Log, Wukulla Spring

Alligator wallowing in reeds along Wukulla River

The Wukulla River

Crane, Image Taken From Boat on Wakulla River

And You're Welcome, Nikki. 

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Picture of the Day: This is a Manatee.

Taken @ Wakulla Springs.

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Pictures of the Day: River Styx to Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings' House

The River Styx.

Three Vultures above the Styx.

Smallish alligator feeding upon a deer carcass in the river (click to enlarge image if you can't see him: he's almost invisible but for the top of his head on the right of the deer; mouth on carcass, his submerged tail pointing to the upper right corner of the frame).

The Yearling, on the far side of the bridge.

Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings' House.

Marjorie's Parlor.

Marjorie's tenant farmer's house, where the help lived.

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Picture of the Day: Arc of the Covenant, Gainesville

I have an odd bunch of pictures to post, but it's late and I'm tired, this wireless connection is too slow, and I want to write clever amusing little captions but am too addled.   It'll have to wait for tomorrow, is all.  



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Pictures of the Last Few Days: Jacksonville, Fort Clinch SP, Gainesville

I've not been in the mood to write anything these last few days - or week or two now, I suppose.   I've been turned inward, seeking to put myself in better order, lately.    There's work to do inside, is what I'm saying. Still, I did see a few things, and I did remember to use my camera on a few of them....

Like this, Fort Clinch State Park, a Civil War era park just north of Jacksonville that was begun just before beginning of the war, then taken and then abandoned by the Confederacy, and then taken and held by the Union after Florida was evacuated by Confederate forces in the middle of the war.  I have always loved old forts like this,  they move me somehow.   Here are a few images I seized of the place:

Then I saw this later that same day along the side of the road.  It's web was huge, probably a square meter in total span, and the little fellow was himself not all that little (in that if he were to grow any larger he would be a great nightmare, and not just a vividly colored little spook like he is now..)  being about two inches long or so with the extent of his legs..  He was very beautiful, but I was a a little too wary and respectful to get any closer than I did, which means the images I took are not as impressive as they should be:

I just looked him up online.  He's a yellow silk spider, also known as a banana spider, a calico spider, a writing spider, a giant wood spider or a golden orb spider.

He's not at all dangerous, and can even be touched or picked up if you have the guts to do it.   I like spiders, but prefer not to touch or get too close to them.  They're awesome to me, and that means I give them due respect.  I look, but will not touch.  

Some people are brasher in this than I.  Here's the proof of that:

That guy's a little bigger than the one I ran into, but not much.   Pretty amazing, eh?


I'm beginning to really like Florida.  It's really only a matter of paying attention to what is good and ignoring all the idiots.  That's just a matter of acting with grace and acquired wisdom, and then paying attention, really..



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Pictures of the Day: Little Talbot Island SP, Jacksonville

Turtle Nest

Self- Portrait

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Pictures of the Past Week: St. Augustine Area

So, not only have I not posted a daily image like I vowed I would, I have not posted at all in over a week.

I've been in the St. Augustine area, on the north east coast of Florida this week, and have been in a very introverted mood.  Maybe even slightly depressed.   I've been enjoying my travels here quite a bit, though, and have seen some interesting things.

I just went through all the images I took, and pulled out a bunch that I like, that give a bit of a taste of what I've seen.   An incoherent photo essay of my last weeks wanderings..

I have a few film reviews and other things that I may post the next few days.  One thing I recommit to doing is posting images of my meander this coming week..

Driving through the Floridian Jungle..

 I came upon this Great Oak in the Jungle, called the "Fairchild Oak" after the botanist who introduced soybeans to North America.   This tree is 2,000 - that's *two thousand* - years old, and is clearly cared for by the Eledrhrim.

Emma in that Jungle.

 This is the ruin of a great sugar mill built near the Atlantic coast in the Jungle in 1831 by the Bulow brothers.   It was burnt later that decade by the Seminoles, during the second of the three Seminole Wars that were fought in Florida before the Civil War.

I then drove up coastal A1A to Saint Augustine, the oldest continuously inhabited European settlement in the United States.   There is a Catholic shrine, Our Lady of La Leche,  on the shore where the Spanish settlers landed, where there is this great cross:

It is a beautiful, but very touristed old city.  I spent two days there, and enjoyed the place anyway, despite the difficult parking.

Psalm 26:8

I've decided that I'm going to start a series in imitation of Daniel Nichols at Caelem & Terra featuring the churches and shrines I visit.  I may even steal his hache tag "the glory of thy house" which is taken from Psalm 26.   I noticed that that verse was on the side of the Shrine of Our Lady of La Leche, which is nearby that great cross by the sea.  The shrine was built in the 16th Century by the settlers, and while it has been destroyed several times by hurricanes or fire, it has always been rebuilt.

There's an outdoor path there lined with the Seven Sorrows of the Virgin,  the first of which is the Presentation, or the Prophecy of Simeon.  It's the only of the seven that I considered a happy sad sorrow, in that if I received such a prophecy concerning my child, I would be both terrified and glad.  The reliefs are beautiful, as you can see:

 I also went to mass Sunday at the Cathedral Basilica of St. Augustine, which is the primal parish of the United States.   The present building dates from the 19th Century, and is very beautiful:

This beautiful shrine to Blessed Augustine is on the nave of the basilica:

There is also a great Spanish colonial era- fort there, called the Castillo de San Marcos, now a National Park:

 I also made a pilgrimage to a small Greek shrine in the city, devoted to Saint Photios.  I spent several hours talking with the caretaker Fernando (in picture below, tending the candles) who is a Colombian convert from Rome.  I bought five icons from their shop there, and promptly lost the bag on the way back to the car.  Such losses are never accidents, I only hope that they be found to good use..

 That's the latest from Florida.   I'll blog more faithfully these coming weeks, so stay posted..



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