Great writing John, thanks. I’ve just spent a bit time on a break down by the coast, and just having the time and opportunity to sit back and observe people and watch the world go by, was one of the real pleasures. And drinking plenty of good coffee at the same time was a bonus too. Time to walk on the beach and let my mind freewheel for a bit. Seeing families with young kids bought back a lot of good memories of beach holidays past with our kids when they were little.
Thank you for personally reading your essays aloud instead of permitting an AI voice to bumble them. I listen to various Substacks while painting… and appreciate the care you take to frame your well chosen words with the humanity of your own voice. Please keep on keepin’ on!
Thanks as ever, John. Reminds me of one of my favourite poems "Leisure" by the Welsh poet W. H. Davies - written as long ago as 1911.
"What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.
No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.
No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.
A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
We forever need reminding to slow down and try to experience the present moment in all its wonder before, as you say, it and we are gone forever. Best wishes.
Noticing inside and outside? Is there a moment when noticing outside doesn't trigger or connect to an inside story. You write beautifully about both of course. Is there a moment when you just notice? No interpretation, no intention, no thought at all. Just that moment of the deep connection... ? A dear friend rephrased the Doerr quote to "Open your heart before it closes."
Absolutely, Bruce. I notice things all the time simply for what they are, absent any deeper meaning, story, or epiphany. But the writer in me is calibrated for reflection, and knowing this, I take care not to over read everything. Thanks for your comment.
That line from All the Light We Cannot See carries such weight, and you brought it to life in a deeply personal way. What moved me most is how your practice of noticing turns ordinary street scenes into bridges—bridges to memory, to meaning, to connection.
The woman with the cart becoming Mary. The city cowboy awakening Jonce. The toddler laughing in the chaos. None of it was accidental. You were present enough to see it.
In a world where most of us rush “hither thither and yon” with eyes fixed on screens, your words remind us that attention is sacred. To notice is to honor life while we have it.
Thank you for the gentle but powerful call to open our eyes.
almost forgot I had a computer today, with beautiful weather, the fruit trees in bloom, the smell of the fir trees... almost forgot I had a computer LOL. But thankfully not completely so I could read this story and your comments, all so uplifting! Away with the news!
Beautiful weather, fruit trees in bloom, and fragrant fir trees should take precedence over the computer. But I’m glad you swung by, Ingrid, and made a little time for my musings.
Thanks, Ron. I agree, to notice is sacred. And in today’s busy world, it’s easy to look past things, and miss out on moments of beauty, meaning, and the reflection they can induce.
The art of noticing… glad I’m not alone in the community of senses that lead to memory.
Olfactory noticing often leads to strong memory chains. Smelling manure, straw and hay in a barn of the estate I stayed at briefly in the Wicklow mountains of Ireland brought tears of missing my Father- helping pitchfork manure filled bedding from our barn into the manure spreader to feed our crop fields in Iowa. That smell was sweet time with Daddy during long ago childhood days. The tears flowed. Happy tears.
Yes, the art of noticing is powerful. And you're spot on about the power of olfactory experiences that take us back to grandma's kitchen or the tanbark on the playground where we first met our best friend or the aftershave that will forever call up memories of Dad.
You have a soft heart and a gentle soul John and the gift of your writing and photography, probably carries way more impact than you might envision. From where I am sitting it appears the universe continues to use you as a way to get my attention! Back to the pause and embracing being “Perfectly on time in every gifted moment”. 💕
Another thoughtful and insightful essay, Thank you John!
Using your photos as a starting point or inspiration or trigger is a great technique or process for more thoughts and musings. I feel the same of paintings and drawings-to know the artist's thoughts or feelings when choosing a scene or subject, its composition, can make the work so much more affecting and meaningful. In any scene or portrait there is so much more to know and feel then simply where or who it is...when in a gallery some works just "grab" one, and I think it is that underlying or common element that the work triggers that stops one to look more and think a LOT more! again, it's some connectivity or unconscious element touching us that draws us to the work, the artist, and the subject. A neighbor of mine (just turned 99) is a painter; to have her describe the scene, the people in it, and why she made the painting (such as of her home and yard and relatives in WWII occupied Paris) makes it a true piece of her history and life that it then comes so alive and so fun to discuss. Thanks again --
Thanks, John. I agree, knowing the backstory behind a work of art can add to the impact. Although some works stand on their own, and the absence of backstory leaves them open to interpretation, which has its own power. Thanks for reading and your kind support.
John, your writing is so personal and thoughtful and never fails to touch me, usually on many levels. Thank you for sharing your wonderful talents with us.
John, I also often write my stories from photos, rather than accentuating the narrative with them. However, this marvelous piece has taught me to look more deeply into the scenes I notice and photograph. Like you, I might find stories and moments long forgotten. Again, I so appreciate your thoughtful, personal perspective on slowing down and noticing all that surrounds us before our eyes are closed forever.
Bruce-I didn’t always reflect closely on the photographs I took. For a time I was focused on the mechanics of taking a good photo. The composition, layers, etc. But the more I read and wrote, my attention shifted to the story contained in the photos. Thanks for reading.
one can still buy a few ingredients and find solace in yesterday’s dishes. So true. After 23 years in this country I still cook mostly Belgian food, if I can find it - or otherwise European, or even Mexican. I just can not get into American food
It’s as if I’m merely a conduit, an antenna - yes, we are. I often had that feeling when I was still writing poetry. But that was in a former life LOL.
Your pieces do to me what you have when browsing photos and taking pics. They waken up old memories. One, when I was walking in the rain with my ex, and I remarked how sweet the little pink flowers looked on the bushes we passed. He said, 'only you could notice these flowers in this drowsy weather'. As we age, we hold so many memories, and it is our choice to enjoy or to cuss them! After 21 years we divorced, but there was still beauty in the years lived next to each other, and a few fond memories like this one, unsightly, but sweet.
Ingrid-It’s good to make room for the sweet memories that accompany past relationships. Little pink flowers and the kind moments shared should not be lost to lesser or painful memories. As for Belgian food, do you enjoy Moules-Frites? I believe that’s a popular one.
oh my now you got my mouth watering! Have not eaten mussels in a long time, we do not have them fresh here, only frozen, and the only restaurant in town that now and then prepares them uses more garlic than mussels! Have not had decent fries in quite a while, either... my poor Belgian stomach now and then longs for them LOL.
So beautifully written, John, and mesmerizing, as well. To think that some form of that story is available to most of us if we just take the time. I am inspired!
Thanks, Pamela. Yes, the key is to take the time. I’m as guilty as anyone for rushing through some days, at the expense of noticing closely. Carrying a camera helps. It swings by my side, knocking gently, reminding me it’s there, and that perhaps I should slow down and open my eyes more.
Great as usual. You make me want to get up off this couch, put down my hot tea and iPad, and get out into the real world to see what I can see. Thank you!
Brenda-Sometimes a hot beverage and iPad session make for a relaxing escape. We all have our favorite podcasts, writers, and YouTube videos. But getting out in the real world, be it a park or bustling city or the welcoming deer paths of the forrest, better restores our equilibrium and wellbeing. At least, it does for me.
So important these days to slow down or even stop and notice the world and the people around us. A camera can help us do that. I'm eternally grateful to Stephen Jobs for incorporating a camera into the iPhone, which I'm never without. It's a great source of story ideas.
Great writing John, thanks. I’ve just spent a bit time on a break down by the coast, and just having the time and opportunity to sit back and observe people and watch the world go by, was one of the real pleasures. And drinking plenty of good coffee at the same time was a bonus too. Time to walk on the beach and let my mind freewheel for a bit. Seeing families with young kids bought back a lot of good memories of beach holidays past with our kids when they were little.
A freewheeling mind, walking, sun, surf, and good coffee amidst happy families and kids in the sand. Sounds wonderful, Alan. Enjoy!
👍Yeah just the best. Back to reality with work tomorrow, but feeling relaxed and grounded and perspective regained.
As always simple yet profound but beautifully stated !
Thanks Gayle, I appreciate it.
Thank you for personally reading your essays aloud instead of permitting an AI voice to bumble them. I listen to various Substacks while painting… and appreciate the care you take to frame your well chosen words with the humanity of your own voice. Please keep on keepin’ on!
Those AI voices are terrible. Thanks for reading, Jan.
Thanks as ever, John. Reminds me of one of my favourite poems "Leisure" by the Welsh poet W. H. Davies - written as long ago as 1911.
"What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.
No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.
No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.
A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
We forever need reminding to slow down and try to experience the present moment in all its wonder before, as you say, it and we are gone forever. Best wishes.
Lovely poem, Geoffrey. Especially that line “We have no time to stand and stare.” That would have been a good title for my essay. Thanks for sharing.
Noticing inside and outside? Is there a moment when noticing outside doesn't trigger or connect to an inside story. You write beautifully about both of course. Is there a moment when you just notice? No interpretation, no intention, no thought at all. Just that moment of the deep connection... ? A dear friend rephrased the Doerr quote to "Open your heart before it closes."
Absolutely, Bruce. I notice things all the time simply for what they are, absent any deeper meaning, story, or epiphany. But the writer in me is calibrated for reflection, and knowing this, I take care not to over read everything. Thanks for your comment.
John, this is beautiful.
That line from All the Light We Cannot See carries such weight, and you brought it to life in a deeply personal way. What moved me most is how your practice of noticing turns ordinary street scenes into bridges—bridges to memory, to meaning, to connection.
The woman with the cart becoming Mary. The city cowboy awakening Jonce. The toddler laughing in the chaos. None of it was accidental. You were present enough to see it.
In a world where most of us rush “hither thither and yon” with eyes fixed on screens, your words remind us that attention is sacred. To notice is to honor life while we have it.
Thank you for the gentle but powerful call to open our eyes.
almost forgot I had a computer today, with beautiful weather, the fruit trees in bloom, the smell of the fir trees... almost forgot I had a computer LOL. But thankfully not completely so I could read this story and your comments, all so uplifting! Away with the news!
Beautiful weather, fruit trees in bloom, and fragrant fir trees should take precedence over the computer. But I’m glad you swung by, Ingrid, and made a little time for my musings.
Thanks, Ron. I agree, to notice is sacred. And in today’s busy world, it’s easy to look past things, and miss out on moments of beauty, meaning, and the reflection they can induce.
The art of noticing… glad I’m not alone in the community of senses that lead to memory.
Olfactory noticing often leads to strong memory chains. Smelling manure, straw and hay in a barn of the estate I stayed at briefly in the Wicklow mountains of Ireland brought tears of missing my Father- helping pitchfork manure filled bedding from our barn into the manure spreader to feed our crop fields in Iowa. That smell was sweet time with Daddy during long ago childhood days. The tears flowed. Happy tears.
The art of noticing is powerful.
Yes, the art of noticing is powerful. And you're spot on about the power of olfactory experiences that take us back to grandma's kitchen or the tanbark on the playground where we first met our best friend or the aftershave that will forever call up memories of Dad.
Old Spice and Aqua Velva Ice Blue were my Dad’s.
Yep. My father used Vitalis Hair Tonic.
You have a soft heart and a gentle soul John and the gift of your writing and photography, probably carries way more impact than you might envision. From where I am sitting it appears the universe continues to use you as a way to get my attention! Back to the pause and embracing being “Perfectly on time in every gifted moment”. 💕
Thank you, Marilyn, I appreciate it.
Another thoughtful and insightful essay, Thank you John!
Using your photos as a starting point or inspiration or trigger is a great technique or process for more thoughts and musings. I feel the same of paintings and drawings-to know the artist's thoughts or feelings when choosing a scene or subject, its composition, can make the work so much more affecting and meaningful. In any scene or portrait there is so much more to know and feel then simply where or who it is...when in a gallery some works just "grab" one, and I think it is that underlying or common element that the work triggers that stops one to look more and think a LOT more! again, it's some connectivity or unconscious element touching us that draws us to the work, the artist, and the subject. A neighbor of mine (just turned 99) is a painter; to have her describe the scene, the people in it, and why she made the painting (such as of her home and yard and relatives in WWII occupied Paris) makes it a true piece of her history and life that it then comes so alive and so fun to discuss. Thanks again --
Thanks, John. I agree, knowing the backstory behind a work of art can add to the impact. Although some works stand on their own, and the absence of backstory leaves them open to interpretation, which has its own power. Thanks for reading and your kind support.
John, your writing is so personal and thoughtful and never fails to touch me, usually on many levels. Thank you for sharing your wonderful talents with us.
You're welcome, Carol. Thanks for the kind words.
John, I also often write my stories from photos, rather than accentuating the narrative with them. However, this marvelous piece has taught me to look more deeply into the scenes I notice and photograph. Like you, I might find stories and moments long forgotten. Again, I so appreciate your thoughtful, personal perspective on slowing down and noticing all that surrounds us before our eyes are closed forever.
Bruce-I didn’t always reflect closely on the photographs I took. For a time I was focused on the mechanics of taking a good photo. The composition, layers, etc. But the more I read and wrote, my attention shifted to the story contained in the photos. Thanks for reading.
one can still buy a few ingredients and find solace in yesterday’s dishes. So true. After 23 years in this country I still cook mostly Belgian food, if I can find it - or otherwise European, or even Mexican. I just can not get into American food
It’s as if I’m merely a conduit, an antenna - yes, we are. I often had that feeling when I was still writing poetry. But that was in a former life LOL.
Your pieces do to me what you have when browsing photos and taking pics. They waken up old memories. One, when I was walking in the rain with my ex, and I remarked how sweet the little pink flowers looked on the bushes we passed. He said, 'only you could notice these flowers in this drowsy weather'. As we age, we hold so many memories, and it is our choice to enjoy or to cuss them! After 21 years we divorced, but there was still beauty in the years lived next to each other, and a few fond memories like this one, unsightly, but sweet.
Ingrid-It’s good to make room for the sweet memories that accompany past relationships. Little pink flowers and the kind moments shared should not be lost to lesser or painful memories. As for Belgian food, do you enjoy Moules-Frites? I believe that’s a popular one.
oh my now you got my mouth watering! Have not eaten mussels in a long time, we do not have them fresh here, only frozen, and the only restaurant in town that now and then prepares them uses more garlic than mussels! Have not had decent fries in quite a while, either... my poor Belgian stomach now and then longs for them LOL.
So beautifully written, John, and mesmerizing, as well. To think that some form of that story is available to most of us if we just take the time. I am inspired!
Thanks, Pamela. Yes, the key is to take the time. I’m as guilty as anyone for rushing through some days, at the expense of noticing closely. Carrying a camera helps. It swings by my side, knocking gently, reminding me it’s there, and that perhaps I should slow down and open my eyes more.
the slower you go the faster you get to where you want to be
because if you are enjoying where you are you do not have to go anywhere
Beautifully expressed, Walter.
thank you John
Great as usual. You make me want to get up off this couch, put down my hot tea and iPad, and get out into the real world to see what I can see. Thank you!
Brenda-Sometimes a hot beverage and iPad session make for a relaxing escape. We all have our favorite podcasts, writers, and YouTube videos. But getting out in the real world, be it a park or bustling city or the welcoming deer paths of the forrest, better restores our equilibrium and wellbeing. At least, it does for me.
Going to the grocery store is one of my favorite places for people watching/analyzing. :)
So important these days to slow down or even stop and notice the world and the people around us. A camera can help us do that. I'm eternally grateful to Stephen Jobs for incorporating a camera into the iPhone, which I'm never without. It's a great source of story ideas.