The Puget Sound is an exceptionally beautiful area around Seattle.
Viewing it with the naked eye, or in this case, viewing it with my eyes “clothes’d” (meaning covered by my eyelids…not naked….”clothes’d”) for lack of a better picture 😩, hyper activates my senses.
I can See the Sound, Smell the Sound, Hear the Sound, and Hear the See…..well, the Sea. 😁
In my previous post, “Autumn Leaves”, I mentioned some old black and white photos I found. They were photos of me and three friends hiking in Yosemite National Park and climbing Half Dome.
On the backs of two of the photos, I discovered “two different thoughts” I had written down on them. I copied the thoughts from cards I saw when I was down on the Monterey Bay pier, just enjoying the day. I think I bought the cards to send to a good friend, at the time, but I liked the sentiment on each card and wanted to remember them, so I wrote them on the backs of those pictures, the only thing I had handy, at the time, to write on, before I dropped the cards in the mail.
In that post, I mentioned only one thought, which was about Autumn Leaves.
But in this post, I’d like to mention the other thought, on the other photo, which was someone’s (it was so long ago I don’t remember the source) idea of what success means.
Everyone will have their own definition of success, of course, but I thought this definition of success had merit.
Fall in South Korea, around 1978.
The other day I was filtering through some old photographs and I came across these pictures:
This is Half Dome in Yosemite National Park.
At the time, three friends and I were attending an intensive language course at the Defense Language Institute (DLI) in Monterey, California. Two were studying Arabic. One, Russian. I was studying Korean.
My Uncle Walt (79 years old) lived here in Seattle for 20 years, until about a year ago, when he moved back to St. Louis, Missouri, the town where he and the other Adams family members (including me) grew up.
My Uncle Howard (76 years old), his younger brother, came with him on this trip to Seattle.
Uncle Walt drove his car from St. Louis to Grand Junction, Colorado (where Uncle Howard lives). Then Uncle Howard drove the two of them, in his car, the rest of the way to Seattle. Along the way, they made a few stops: Jackson Hole, Wyoming; Yellowstone National Park; Mt. Rushmore; and Butte, Montana.
I think its great that they are active like they are. And they were always great uncles to us kids. Actually, my Dad’s four brothers and two sisters always treated us well with a lot of love and laughter.
With as many songs that have been written throughout the ages, and with only 5, 6, 7, 8, or 12 notes in a scale, depending on which scale you’re using, you’d think that at some point, we’d run out of combinations of notes to make a new and unique song.
But everyday we hear new ones. And the songs are as unique as each of the people who wrote them. It seems like the possibilities are endless. I think that’s amazing!
Certain songs tug at your heart strings even though they can be totally different styles.
Others don’t affect you at all.
And some are really annoying.
But it’s all subjective. Songs I like may be boring to you and vice versa.