Hi again Good Shepherd friends - I'm sending along two more pictures from our stay in Maine - one of the Prospect Harbor lighthouse that sits on Navy Base land  across the bay from us and the other a view from our deck.  We're not sure what the white bubble structure is next to the lighthouse - maybe weather or communication related. Both pictures have lobster boats going by…..there are LOTS of lobster buoys out there.   Very territorial business! Hope you're all well.  See you in September. Welcome back, Hilary! - Cathy and Jack

Nostalgia and Renewal I am often very nostalgic. When I get into a particular mood, I like to listen to music from my teenage and young adult years. I enjoy flipping through old photos, and certain scents and flavors can transport me back to specific memories in the past. I am often reticent to change, and maybe the two are related, though I have begun to clarify to myself and others that I am not resistant toward change as much as I am resistant toward unwanted—or forced—change. I can embrace change and renewal when I am the architect of change that I think is necessary. Earlier in the summer, my family and I took a vacation to Michigan City. We settled on the location after scrapping earlier considerations of driving to Canada for my daughter's first international (though not intercontinental) trip. The uncertainty of current events and economics were too much for our multicultural family, so we chose to stay close to home. We rented an Air BnB with a Mid-Century Modern flair, wh...

Hi all at Good Shepherd! We are on our usual summer jaunt to Prospect Harbor, Maine, where we've been coming for about 50 years! We started visiting Jack's parents at first when in college and then put up our own place on a part of the land Jack and his brothers inherited when his parents died, about 20 years ago. This is the little Episcopal summer chapel in Winter Harbor, about 15 minutes from our house.  It's called St. Christopher's By the Sea and is only open for just July and August every year. The two pictures following it tell how it got its name - beautiful views just down the road. More photos to come.

Last weekend I enjoyed our yearly Girls' Weekend at Lake Michigan. Some of these friends I made when I first moved to Lafayette 25 years ago. It always reminds me of the Girl Scout song we used to sing: "Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver, and the other gold." You don't really understand those lyrics at age 10, but the older you get the more meaningful they become. Meeting with old friends feels like a synthesis  of past, present, and future. We have time for deep understanding and sharing of each other's lives in the beautiful setting of Western Michigan (Fennville, just south of Douglas/Saugatuck). -Anne F.

When I heard that Hilary was concentrating on spending a lot of her sabbatical outdoors, my first thought was, "Well, that sounds unpleasant." I'm glad Hilary enjoys hiking and nature, but I am definitely an indoor girl. I spent a week at a beach house with my parents and siblings, with their families. I did not once go to the beach. I explored some shops, coffeehouses, and one very good bakery, but my feet didn't hit the sand.  The one exception to this rule is any place with flowers. While I didn't get any beach shots in Michigan, I did have to stop in front of a bed and breakfast and take a picture of their striking irises.  While we bought our house for a number of reasons, the flowers were definitely one of them. The woman who originally owned the house was a professor in the horticulture department at Purdue. From the first hyacinths in spring until the last mums in the fall, the first year we lived in the house was a delight of surprising blooms.  In the se...

I visited a tree on my way home from work. I stopped by the park and sat at a picnic table just a few feet from a large tree and a small creek. Fifteen minutes with no other agenda - no phone, no music, no plan. I watched some insects - mostly ants. Some of them moved along the dirt near my feet. Others walked up and down the tree. As I watched an ant walking on the deeply textured bark, I noticed the tree's trunk had an interesting shape - like legs creating a valley where they touch. As moving as art, but more dynamic - more real. A chipmunk came by while foraging and didn't notice me until it was only a couple of feet away. Among all the sounds at the park, the chipmunk’s startled squeak was the only sound that carried any sense of alarm. The chirps from the birds and the babbling of the creek were calming. Even the voices of people at the busier end of the park carried their owners’ joy and fun. No one needed anything from me. I felt no demands except to be present. A light...