Ruminator

Photo by: Tim Bindner Photography This week I rode an emotional rollercoaster, and I felt like I had no safety belt to keep my securely locked in place.  The week began with yet another bill that seems for the last month we have been hemorrhaging money for state taxes, many home repairs, and car repairs.  My son’s truck had work being done and the price ended up $200+ more than expected.  After dropping my car off for a simple oil leak and picking his truck up I was soon informed that my simple oil leak also involved a radiator leak and a bill of $1700+.  I needed an outlet and the best place for that is the trails. Friday started well.  I met a friend for lunch.  This friend recently retired from my employer and though I didn’t know him that well I always enjoyed talking to him and felt we had some things in common with music.  I tend to gravitate toward older people (especially men), always welcoming their knowledge and experience of life.  This was no exception.  Our lunch meeting c...

Photo by: Tim Bindner Photography In what appears to be a weekly privilege I once again found myself hiking alone at Mt. St. Francis.  I hiked over four miles and reached my step goal of 10,000 before 9:30 am. I arrived in the parking lot and backed into my normal spot.  As is always the case there were no others there as the empty parking lot displayed.  I hopped out of my car, grabbed my gear and camera and looked in the direction of the lake.  I spotted the upper half of a deer who was eyeing me closely.  I gently closed my car door and used the adjacent structure as cover as I made my way toward the gate.  Today I chose a different focal length lens thus knowing any shot I got of the deer would be from a distance.  As I peered around the corner I saw three sets of faces staring back at me, standing frozen like statues.  I raised my camera took this shot, then headed down the path toward the lake.  I took two steps on the path and they decided I was too close and darted into the nea...

Photo by: Tim Bindner Photography My three dearest friends are not humans but have provided me as much if not more than any human can.  These three consist of music, hiking, and photography.  As you have found you the way to my site or are receiving emails on my blog posts, you already know how much I take pure joy in hiking as well as the photography that goes hand in hand with it.  Music however or I have been an older and much more intimate friend. A friend recently posted on his blog about his love of music which got me thinking about how so integral music has become to my existence I felt it warranted a post of its own.  By the way here is that  post. My earliest memories as a child involved music.  As a child, I had severe asthma and bad allergies.  Asthma is when part of the lung is destroyed and thus resulting in permanent loss of part of my lung.  That with bouts of allergies, I was sentenced to many long days and nights in my room in the...

Photo by: Tim Bindner Photography My pain is my purpose.  I heard that today at a seminar at work from a life coach named Vitale Brown.  She was referencing a 10-year addiction to Adderall, but I felt that statement applied to my life as well. My parents were both counselors in the school system and used to dealing with kids and their issues.  As a child, I was taught to analyze every thought, emotion, and feeling.  I was also taught that I had to express and explain how I feel.  As counselors, they would show me how to analyze these issues and would guide them.  Many times I was told why certain thoughts, emotions are feeling were wrong.  I was often compared to other kids (still happens today) and was shown how they had handled things better.  As part of my makeup, I was encouraged to focus on both my strength of consistency and harmony.  It was not until my late thirties before I understood those strengths and why they were so ingrained in me.  Consistency is what it appears to be. ...

Photo by: Tim Bindner Photography My hike today felt like an old pair of jeans.  You know the ones that have been worn and washed so much they feel like a second skin.  My 3.89-mile trek felt very comforting and was much needed. As often happens on my early Sunday morning hike, I was alone.  I longed and yearned for the solitude that I know I often get on these early Sunday morning hikes.  As the rest of the world slept in or recovered from late-night celebrations on St. Patrick’s Day, I honestly felt I had the world to myself, or at least this small area to myself.  Within hours the world would awaken and the hustle and bustle of life would begin, but I took great solace in knowing I had some time to myself. As I headed down the concrete path toward the lake I could not help but think of some lyrics of a Pink Floyd song called Empty Spaces.  “What shall we use to fill the empty spaces, where we used to talk?“  I reflected on my most recent hike, and also on how so many people fee...