1. Lighthouse, 2. A marker - I was here, 3. Through the back of the wardrobe

Today's Friday Flickr Faves is an unusual one, in that they're all my own photos, rather than someone else's.
I am always pensive this time of year, slightly depressed, considering my successes and failures on this trip around the sun, planning for the next; but this year is different.  I have been considering future tense in the long term, rather than the short, and have come to the realization, that right here, right now, is where I choose.

Oddly enough, these pictures I took this past summer have led me to the answer.


My explanation, such as it is, follows:

1.  The Lighthouse

This light house it is at the end of the spit where I live.  The lighthouse looks old and abandonded, finished in its life's purpose, but look closely, and you'll see the solar panel that gives it life anew.  I have always loved the lighthouse for that reason.

But, too, I love that lighthouse, because when I stand underneath it, gazing at and becoming lost in the seemingly endless water ahead the wind ruffling my hair, and the scents rolling in with the waves beckoning me to a life of adventure; when I begin to move again, I always feel as if  I'm taking the first step in a great journey, even if it isn't by sailing off to the edge of the world.

But again, perhaps I am.

2.  I Was Here
At the foot of the lighthouse, there are piles of broken rock and granite, twists of rusted industrial wire coiled in fantastic shapes, brickwork whose edges are worn smooth by the passage of water and time. Someone had taken part of this detritus and made... what?

I wondered if its maker had meant it as art, or a marker - a message to the world. "Once, I was here."  Or was s/he simply bored while others in his or her party carried on pursuits they were uninterested in, forming this with as much reflection as someone else might skip stones?

I clambered down the preacrious edge of the spit to acknowledge and preserve  whatever it was intended to be in a photograph. And when I saw the way the photograph had turned out, I wondered about many things.  Including art, its makers and the messages - intended and not - and how the very act of observation assigns meaning and importance.

3.  In the Back of the Wardrobe

At the bottom of the spit, underneath the lighthouse, I had bent over to look at an interestingly raddled piece of paper, to see whether I could still read what was written there, and as I was coming up, I looked through this tunnel.