This series is a photographic meditation on the seasons of Advent and Epiphany. The photos were taken over the course of Advent through Epiphany 2012/2013. All the photos were taken from the same location, looking in the same direction, roughly a 60 degree field of view looking from my porch towards back fence.
The photos are essentially as they came from the camera, with only minimal cropping and adjustments applied. The lights are those the night provided--full moons, neighbor's lamps, radio towers in the distance, an occasional passing plane.
I had prepared for these by reading the lessons, prayers and liturgies of Advent and Epiphany for some months, simply noting the imagery that emerged or particularly spoke. Then i went out and photographed and produced these meditations.
Let me introduce, Fiona, our Border Collie whose mission in life is to provide organization and direction to a recalcitrant household. Like many of her breed, Fiona, even at age almost twelve, has two settings: ON and OFF. Whether it is a game of tennis ball, chasing the squirrels off the bird feeders, nosing me away from the computer, or simply running around the yard, ball in mouth, chasing fairies, Fiona puts herself fully into the experience. She exemplifies the spirit of the character in “Chariots of Fire” who said: “I was born to run, and when I run I feel God’s pleasure.” During the isolation, she is our constant friend and one who makes sure we get our exercise and amusement each and every day.
Fiona is very private about her paws. She does not liked to have them touched, or patted, or (God Forbid!) have her nails clipped. But at the end of the day, when she curls up beside us to relax, she reveals her paws in a very graceful and delicate ways. These photos are part of an ongoing series I began in 2012, titled simply “Fiona’s Paws”. It is a small series so far, as getting the photo requires having a camera at hand that can be picked up, composed, and taken just when the light is right, all without moving a muscle. Not always easy to do, because the slightest twitch flips the OFF switch to ON, and there goes the moment.
Sad Update: Fiona passed from this life into her eternal life the Monday after Easter, 2024. She lived a well lived 13.75 years and until the last few months enjoyed good health. Our whole house continues to grieve.
Since the pandemic restrictions hit I’ve begun and ended most days attending virtual Morning Prayer and Compline offered by our church. Normally this takes place on our deck, with coffee cup, iPad, iPhone and often a camera at hand. This quiet time has been a blessing in the midst of the world’s chaos. I began to notice things—about myself, about the communities of which I am connected, and especially, about the light and its steady progressions through the sky.
Often, the words being prayed by our virtual community drift into the background while things I would not so readily notice are offered as quiet, peaceful gifts. Often I pick up camera or phone and offer my visual response and meditation of these moments of grace. I consider them photo-meditations on the glory of God.
