It is a cold, dark, March morning in 1951 and I awaken at about 6:30 am before the alarm clock rings. I dress quietly so as not to wake mom and dad sleeping in the next bedroom. I slip out the door into the brightly lighted hallway and punch the button for the elevator. Outside it is cold but I am too excited to feel it as I scurry across Devoe Park and into the alleyway between the church and the rectory. The doorway at the bottom of the stairs is lit with a single bulb and the interior of the sacristy is chilly and dimly lighted. The sacristan smiles at me and nods as I turn down a hallway to a large room with lockers containing the cassocks and surplices of each altar boy. I remove my coat and slip into the black cassock and starched white surplice for the first time before returning to the sacristy. It is getting close to 7:00 and a priest is vesting for mass as I stand quietly nearby with the sacristan. I am nervously awaiting the veteran altar boy since this is my first scheduled service. He appears and so does another priest so we shall be split up with the other altar boy assisting the priest on the main altar and I assisting the visiting priest at a side altar. We exit the side door of the sacristy and walk the few steps to the dimly lit side altar. I am so nervous that I quickly freeze up and am unable to recite the Latin responses to the prayers which mortifies me. Few people are in attendance for Mass at the main altar and I am in a world apart with the priest at the side altar. A statue of St Nicholas of Tolentine above the altar is the mute witness to my pathetic inability to perform as expected despite the months of preparation. The kindly priest has relaxed into his devotion and almost seems unaware of my presence. Little do I know that this is the beginning of a journey that will take me through four years of seminary but right then I am most aware that my stomach is both empty and queasy. After mass, the priest thanks me and I quickly change clothes and hurry home to breakfast. Daylight brightens my steps as I cross the park to Fordham Hill.

A pleasant cool and sunny Monday with two fire department EMS calls.Raked some leaves but darkness descends at about 4:30, so it is time to come inside. At AA we would have finished field sports at the same time and cleaned up by five to study until dinner at six, signaled by the Dean tolling the Angelus for our silent procession to the refectory , The stillness of the backyard on a windless late fall afternoon is delightful.

Saturday Morning ,110406

Perhaps the weather gets more beautiful, but I cannot imagine how that is possible. It is Saturday morning, 4 November and we are driving to NYC this afternoon to see Lise run in the NY Marathon tomorrow morning. So far this Blog has been for my pictures but now I shall expand to include some actual "thoughts from the bay".

windy time at the Sound

 

Fall Morning

 

An update

I must apologize for the long absence. I have been down to the bay almost daily. Yesterday mornings walk featured "two swans a sittin" near the last curve of East Creek on the bay side. Almost hidden in a grey early morning light, on the opposite side of the creek, at a wide point, the silent swans even attracted the attention of Java, but for a fleeting second.

Gusty Morning in Early March