1 Jan. 2010
Avalon, Santa Catalina Island, CA
[1] Lord's prayer. [2] Hermit's Gulch Trail. [3] Monuments to Man. [4] I am Bismarck.
Tobey hiking Hermit's Gulch. 1 Jan. 2010
[1]
This morning I had the pleasure of teaching a method of daily prayer to the Hancocks, which is to use the various elements of the Lord's prayer as the frame upon which to build one's own petitions and praises. For each subject -- for example, "give us this day our daily bread" -- I express my own concerns, suiting them to personal situations and on behalf of the Church worldwide. Since doing so, I have never been at a loss for what to pray, nor has the habit become mechanical.
Catalina ridge line. 1 Jan. 2010
My unhappy discovery has been that many, perhaps most Christians do not begin their mornings with prayer and meditation upon the Word. In doing so they go starved and cold into their business, when they might otherwise have gone with a full soul and a divine kiss upon their breath. To me this habit of morning exercise is not a burden of law, but the joy of love and necessity of weakness. Are not lovers eager to speak a few sweet words of affection, to kiss and discuss their plans for that day even before rising from bed? Shouldn't it be so towards our heavenly Bridegroom?
Two old friends. 1 Jan. 2010
I rejoice to know that I am loved with an eternal love by One whose mercies are new every morning. He has taught me that "man does not live by bread alone, but by every word of God." Neither does he suffer me to fix the meal for myself, but "prepares for me a table" by His Spirit. For three years the Lord has faithfully nourished my soul with holy scripture, regardless of the passage examined.
[2]
Towards noon, Tobey and I hiked up Hermit's Gulch. As usual, Tobey's athletic pace was almost manic, which I accepted as preparation for the coming months. His training as a tour guide provided a stream of information about native and endemic foliage, such as the pale leaved St. Catherine's lace and white sage. Canary Island broom tree abounded, as did the pungent California sage, or "cowboy cologne", which once was used as bedding by ranchers on Catalina's upper plains. Winter cold forbade floral blossoming, with the interesting exception of sticky monkey flower.
To the west. 1 Jan. 2010
In just a few miles we had ascended a ridge which served up delicious views of both sides of the island. To the east was a silvery platter of channel upon which lay a cruise ship in the outbounds of Avalon harbor. The city made a semi-circle garnish of spice colored rooftops. Out to the west was the island of San Clemente, toast brown under a buttery haze. Beyond that was only the expanse of the Pacific spread out endlessly in ruffles like a great blue cloth across the tectonic table. I must mention, however, that around 2:PM we observed a strange red atmospheric glow, similar to sunset, over the northern tip of San Clemente. The island is a military site and friends of Tobey have seen large-scale explosions cast flashes of light across the sky from there.
Avalon Harbor, with Los Angeles in the distance. 1 Jan. 2010
San Clemente island. 1 Jan. 2010
[3]
Our circuit ended at the base of Wrigley Memorial, the one-time resting place of chewing gum mogul, William Wrigley Jr. Immense ramps decorated with blue flagstone wind up to a towering mosoleum lined with costly Georgia marble. Tobey expressed discomfort with the whole site, not appreciating such garish homages to mere men. I couldn't help but recall Homer's bench and think that whether mighty or miniscule, from Absalom to Abraham Lincoln, men everywhere hope to leave some lasting token of their significance, perhaps a sort of self-justification for their existence. But there are also men as Calvin and Spurgeon, whose final wish was for little fanfare and an unmarked grave.
Mt. Baldy from Santa Catalina. 1 Jan. 2010
[4]
In the evening we visited friends who baked us "potato wiggles". I thought they looked more like cause awareness ribbons. We also played a game wherein several options, such as fruits or books, are named, from which one is selected as most reflective of a given player's personality. For example, when my turn was up the topic was cities. Without hesitation my old friend Sara said that my personality would used to have been Paris and is now Bismarck. I must agree.
Loving family. 1 Jan. 2010
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Avalon, Santa Catalina Island, CA
[1] Lord's prayer. [2] Hermit's Gulch Trail. [3] Monuments to Man. [4] I am Bismarck.
Tobey hiking Hermit's Gulch. 1 Jan. 2010
[1]
This morning I had the pleasure of teaching a method of daily prayer to the Hancocks, which is to use the various elements of the Lord's prayer as the frame upon which to build one's own petitions and praises. For each subject -- for example, "give us this day our daily bread" -- I express my own concerns, suiting them to personal situations and on behalf of the Church worldwide. Since doing so, I have never been at a loss for what to pray, nor has the habit become mechanical.
Catalina ridge line. 1 Jan. 2010
My unhappy discovery has been that many, perhaps most Christians do not begin their mornings with prayer and meditation upon the Word. In doing so they go starved and cold into their business, when they might otherwise have gone with a full soul and a divine kiss upon their breath. To me this habit of morning exercise is not a burden of law, but the joy of love and necessity of weakness. Are not lovers eager to speak a few sweet words of affection, to kiss and discuss their plans for that day even before rising from bed? Shouldn't it be so towards our heavenly Bridegroom?
Two old friends. 1 Jan. 2010
I rejoice to know that I am loved with an eternal love by One whose mercies are new every morning. He has taught me that "man does not live by bread alone, but by every word of God." Neither does he suffer me to fix the meal for myself, but "prepares for me a table" by His Spirit. For three years the Lord has faithfully nourished my soul with holy scripture, regardless of the passage examined.
[2]
Towards noon, Tobey and I hiked up Hermit's Gulch. As usual, Tobey's athletic pace was almost manic, which I accepted as preparation for the coming months. His training as a tour guide provided a stream of information about native and endemic foliage, such as the pale leaved St. Catherine's lace and white sage. Canary Island broom tree abounded, as did the pungent California sage, or "cowboy cologne", which once was used as bedding by ranchers on Catalina's upper plains. Winter cold forbade floral blossoming, with the interesting exception of sticky monkey flower.
To the west. 1 Jan. 2010
In just a few miles we had ascended a ridge which served up delicious views of both sides of the island. To the east was a silvery platter of channel upon which lay a cruise ship in the outbounds of Avalon harbor. The city made a semi-circle garnish of spice colored rooftops. Out to the west was the island of San Clemente, toast brown under a buttery haze. Beyond that was only the expanse of the Pacific spread out endlessly in ruffles like a great blue cloth across the tectonic table. I must mention, however, that around 2:PM we observed a strange red atmospheric glow, similar to sunset, over the northern tip of San Clemente. The island is a military site and friends of Tobey have seen large-scale explosions cast flashes of light across the sky from there.
Avalon Harbor, with Los Angeles in the distance. 1 Jan. 2010
San Clemente island. 1 Jan. 2010
[3]
Our circuit ended at the base of Wrigley Memorial, the one-time resting place of chewing gum mogul, William Wrigley Jr. Immense ramps decorated with blue flagstone wind up to a towering mosoleum lined with costly Georgia marble. Tobey expressed discomfort with the whole site, not appreciating such garish homages to mere men. I couldn't help but recall Homer's bench and think that whether mighty or miniscule, from Absalom to Abraham Lincoln, men everywhere hope to leave some lasting token of their significance, perhaps a sort of self-justification for their existence. But there are also men as Calvin and Spurgeon, whose final wish was for little fanfare and an unmarked grave.
Mt. Baldy from Santa Catalina. 1 Jan. 2010
[4]
In the evening we visited friends who baked us "potato wiggles". I thought they looked more like cause awareness ribbons. We also played a game wherein several options, such as fruits or books, are named, from which one is selected as most reflective of a given player's personality. For example, when my turn was up the topic was cities. Without hesitation my old friend Sara said that my personality would used to have been Paris and is now Bismarck. I must agree.
Loving family. 1 Jan. 2010
View the whole set of images in full size >>
Go to the next day from this trip >>
Back to the trip overview >>
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I enjoy these posts so immensely I think it borderlines on vicariousness.
Are these 40D shots or G11?
p.s. I'm already potting ideas for your photoshoot. Dun dun duuuuun...
Every one of these shots is from the G11! Glad you liked them, Graeme.