A Year on Clear Lake-Nov 06, 2013

Sailing–November 06, 2013

And so, this is the last day of the first year of A Year on Clear Lake. (Read my first post here.) What an amazing experience. There is a saying: “What you put your attention on, grows.” It does by leaps and bounds. My love for the lake expanded from a naive appreciation of its calming qualities, its spectacular sunrises and sunsets, and its graceful birds gliding effortlessly across its water to an intense love of it and everything surrounding it, from the ever-changing skies, the myriad array of birds, the wildflowers, the insects, the subtle nuances of each day, along with the rhythms of the seasons. Amid all that, I renewed my personal connection to this miraculous world, and reclaimed my place at the table. I am, I discovered, not an observer of nature, but a part of it. The birds, the animals, even the land and water, we are all kin.

A Year on Clear Lake will continue–with a few changes. I will expand the blog’s perimeters, making it more like a year “around” Clear Lake, venturing into areas like  Armand Bayou, Pine Gully Park, Challenger Park, the Ned and Faye Dunley Nature Center, and even the recently saved Deer Park Prairie. The area has so much natural beauty to explore and celebrate, I’m looking forward to it all. I will continue my visits to the peninsula, too. I love that little space filled with so many surprises.

Another change in the new year, I won’t guarantee a daily post. That self-imposed rule was a tough one, but a challenge I’m proud to say I met 365 times. Though there were many a late night when I fought a near losing battle to keep my eyes open and my fingers pecking out “my post.” I’m sure it showed. In the new year, I will post as often as I can.

Before I close for this year, let me thank you, the reader,  for your continued support and encouragement. The audience is everything–otherwise, why write?

Green Thought: “There’s so much humanity in a love of trees, so much nostalgia for our first sense of wonder, so much power in just feeling our own insignificance when we are surrounded by nature.”
Muriel Barbery, The Elegance of the Hedgehog