RECONCILIATION

A series of essays....

THE PATH TOWARDS RECONCILIATION INCLUDES DESIRE,
UNDERSTANDING, KINDNESS, AND LOTS, AND LOTS OF LOVE....!!!

        Picture was taken in Garranard, Correens, Ireland, October 4, 2018


....as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

Reconciliation...

is the belief that two physical entities, both tangible, independent creatures who share a presence on this earth, are essential, visible, real to one another as they cast their shadows upon the same hollowed ground of their ancestors, may appease one another by reaching a harmonizing balance between their differences, setting their pride aside and reestablishing cordial relations between one another. Time will be of the essence during negotiations as time itself has a habit of slipping through the cracks of relationships like the very air that we breathe, invisible, silent, and fleeting if it is not constantly marked, attended to, and nurtured by both parties involved. If time is allowed a lengthy progression between estrangement or placation, the pain and loss that clings within the pit of the gut, the heart, the soul, only grows deeper, stronger, thicker and is allowed to fester and spread like a growing cancer that has metastasized until, eventually, all hope is relinquished and the physical pain of the loss is worn like a wreath of thorns until our last breath is taken.

Knowing or recalling what word, circumstance, or deed served as the wedge that initially split the foundation of common interest or comprehension between two souls can mark the beginning of reconciliation and allow the negativity to be pondered, analyzed, and dissected by both parties in order to make sense out of it or be able to reach some semblance of common ground within the relationship. Knowledge is the key to opening up the locked doors that may impede progress or prevent discussions. Without knowing what has pulled a relationship apart, how is one party equipped to tackle the necessary measures needed to encourage their full participation in this monumental gesture towards reconciliation? And, unless both sides participate in the act of overcoming the distrust or animosity towards one another in a civil attempt to try to regain goodwill via pleasant and mature behavior, any period of conciliation gained may only be a brief respite from a long term solution and negativity will soon resume.

If a person is unwilling to open his heart to the possibility of forgiving another, any hope of reconciliation is taken away. If communication between them is not worked on or made possible, hope diminishes....for what is progress but a coordinated series of open-mindedness with the ability to politely listen to the viewpoints of another person as you would expect them to do for you in order to reestablish friendship and harmony. Having one’s feelings hurt is a common emotion shared by all humans at one time or another. It is up to each of us to be able to determine how we go about understanding or coping with all levels of emotional pain. Choosing to deny its existence and climbing into a self-imposed vacuum of protection without the desire to communicate with those you feel have wronged you will only elongate and complicate any sense of well-being you may wish to obtain and exasperate the anger and confusion levels of others whom you love and may be closely involved with both parties: a spouse, a daughter, a father, or a close and dear friend. Talk, communicate, share the reason for your hurt feelings and be willing to reconcile your differences with kindness, understanding, and compromise. Never turn a blind eye to any and all possibilities if long term reconciliation is your ultimate goal. 

My wish for all this Christmas Season who feel the pain of loss, misunderstanding, hurt feelings, lack of communication with those we love, and the solid burden of feeling unhappy, misunderstood, or lost within our everyday life would be this: May you, eventually, reach a place in your life where, if nothing else, you can believe that hope will prevail. Having faith in the concept of positive change will prove to be more powerful and far more superior than opposing forces. Make the best of each moment we have together without hate or fear standing in the way. Set-up an appointment with yourself and make the time to reconcile your differences with the goal of compromise and love in mind. Sadly, life is too short. Time is fleeting. Allow joy to fill your heart once again! 

With all my love to everyone at Christmas and throughout the year! Let’s all work together to make 2019 the very best it can be....for everyone!

Copyright © 2018 by Jacqueline E. Hughes

All rights reserved

COUNTING MY BLESSINGS....!

A series of essays....

WHILE TAKING AN EARLY MORNING WALK AROUND
THE NEIGHBORHOOD IN QUIN, IRELAND, WE SPOTTED
A BIT OF THE HOLIDAYS IN SOMEONE'S FRONT YARD.

....as seen through my eyes!





By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

Irving Berlin, initially, did not intend for his song, “Count Your Blessings (Instead Of Sheep),” to become part of a classic December holiday song. However, each year we remember it in the 1954 movie, White Christmas, as two of the main characters played by Bing Crosby and Rosemary Clooney sing it to one another in order to advance their relationship and remind themselves to remember how much they are blessed instead of brooding about short-term problems.

During the holidays of my youth, I can remember, literally, bouncing off the walls in anticipation of Santa’s visit on Christmas Eve. Once, adrenaline pumped and playing my own hairdresser, I feverishly created short, jagged bangs where no bangs existed before, only after having given two of my favorite dolls a similar coiffure for the holidays! My hair grew back out. Sadly, theirs did not.

The song originally came about based on a personal experience of Berlin’s when his doctor suggested he try counting his blessings as a way to deal with his stress induced insomnia. My sweet Mother absolutely adored this movie and in a loving attempt at settling us kids down in the nights before Santa’s arrival, she would sit on the side of each of our beds and sing us to sleep via Irving Berlin’s lyrics. Maybe we didn’t quite fall asleep, but it certainly took the edge off of our childhood expectations and eyes were closed with the possibility of sleep soon to follow.

Having raised two rambunctious little ones of my own, especially around Christmastime, I was never surprised by their boisterous activities with the sound of laughter and footsteps echoing from their upstairs rooms and swirling down through the large, oak staircase before reaching my ears. For the most part, they were happy sounds, good sounds, without anyone crying or screaming. I instinctively knew the different sounds of my girls playing and precisely when parental intervention was in order as ‘good’ transformed into ‘Lord, I better get up there!’ 

So, this particular sound caught me by surprise just a few days before Christmas. It was the sound....of silence. 

“I should have known better,” is a phrase best forgotten once all is returned to a semblance of normalcy. Sitting at our claw-foot dining room table while addressing envelopes for the handwritten Christmas cards to be sent out the following day, it suddenly dawned on me that the joyous sounds of children at play had ceased. All was quiet as if a huge index finger held up to gigantic lips had totally encompassed our home on State Street. As this sudden realization roiled over me like a turbulent mixture of bubbles and foam, I heard a quiet shift of sound emanating from the kitchen right behind me.

Slowly turning around in my chair, the sight that greeted me was one that only a parent could fully appreciate. Standing side-by-side, my two angels, torn between fear and pride, faced the future with their heads up and hands down by their sides. Flashbacks struck my soul with tiny bolts of lightening piercing my heart and I knew immediately that I had one of two choices to make. I could cry like a needy baby or I could allow my gut instinct to take over and double over in my seat with tears of laughter knowing that karma was a real and, occasionally, alarming thing!

My eight-year-old, long, blond hair falling down over her eyes striking a youthful Veronica Lake pose, was attempting to hide something she held in her right hand. My youngest, having lived four-and-a-half years alongside our ‘Miss Lake
lookalike' and always having held her own, stood as still as a Roman statue while piercing me with her large, blue eyes, waiting for my approval.  

The ingenuity of my oldest lives with me, especially at Christmas, as I envision the light from the chandelier bouncing off of the scissors she held in her small hands. Without a wisp of her own hair challenged by this cutting tool, she said, “Do you like her hair, Mom? She sat really still for me while I gave her a new Christmas look. Is it okay, Mom? Why are you crying?”

Well, I must have sat there for at least one, solid minute while counting my blessings, tears in my eyes, and staring at the short, jagged bangs where no bangs existed before on our youngest daughter. It was as though I was transported back into time, sharing my own cunning imagination with the world without a thought of possible consequences. Unsuccessfully holding back tears of wonder.....feeling relieved and thankful, I sat thinking to myself, it will grow back and no eyes were put out or skin marred in the process!

I realized way back then that our blessings come in many shapes, forms, and sizes. Counting them each night instead of sheep in order to rest softly upon our pillows, dream encouraging dreams, and see a brighter day in the morning, isn’t such a bad idea at all. 

This holiday season I will stop indulging in self-pity or complaining and be grateful for all of the good people and things in my life, live each day to the fullest, and try not to become too unhappy about the bad things...they will pass. Learning to fully appreciate each breath we take and smiling until our facial muscles stop hurting and our smile becomes a permanent facial fixture, will only encourage others to follow suit.

So, my appreciation goes out to Irving Berlin’s quick thinking doctor and the fact that Berlin saw and captured the advantages of counting his blessings and was insightful enough to share them with us via his timeless and meaningful song.

Count Your Blessings (Instead Of Sheep)

Irving Berlin

When I'm worried and I can't sleep

I count my blessings instead of sheep

And I fall asleep counting my blessings

When my bankroll is getting small

I think of when I had none at all

And I fall asleep counting my blessings

I think about a nursery and I picture curly heads

And one by one I count them as they slumber in their beds

So if you're worried and you can't sleep

Count your blessings instead of sheep

And you'll fall asleep counting your blessings

Courtesy: GENIUS

Copyright © 2018 by Jacqueline E. Hughes

All rights reserved

DISTRACTIONS ALONG THE ROAD TO WIGTOWN, SCOTLAND

A series of essays....

A PROMISING DAY AS WE LEFT OUR SHEEP
FARM TO TAKE ON MANY NEW ADVENTURES

....as seen through my eyes!

 By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

We woke up to a very promising sunny day as we put together what we believed we needed for a day trip to Wigtown, Scotland’s National Book Town. 

Our four night stay at a working sheep farm in Uplawmoor, south of Glasgow, proved to be enlightening and quite photo worthy. We thoughtfully utilized its proximity to many of the places and attractions we wished to see, including the Highlands, the city of Stirling, Glasgow, and now, Wigtown. 

Located due south of our farm and slightly over a hundred and seventy-two kilometers (one hundred and seven miles) away, the four of us opted for the longer route to Wigtown which meant following the coastline along the Irish Sea for much of the drive. The skies proved to be overcast the further south we traveled and this attributed to some of the most spectacular skies and cloud formations we had yet to see.

APPROACHING CROSSRAGUEL ABBEY

HOW SPLENDID SHE MUST HAVE BEEN!

By now, Dan was quite accustomed to our need to ask him to stop the car at a second’s notice in order to capture a particular photo opportunity. Michael and I warned him of this quite early on and he obliged...for the most part.

Because the day was turning more overcast by the minute and a soft, misty rain began to fall, everything around us seemed more alive, surreal, as though the scenery was outlined in fine, dark strokes by some mystical artist whose knowledge of shadows and highlights was quite extensive. Being prepared for most weather conditions, we would simply pull-up our rain hoods and appreciate our good fortune.

MICHAEL PERCHED ON THE GATE

 

THE RUINS OF CROSSRAGUEL ABBEY

 

Stopping at the ruins of Crossraguel Abbey, I emerged from the car to find Michael halfway up a metal gate, camera in hand, shooting the Abbey while the rain dripped from his parka and a huge smile radiated across his face. We felt like two kids in a candy store and we weren’t about to relinquish this sweet, golden opportunity!

A BEAUTIFUL BUILDING WHICH
WAS ORIGINALLY AN OLD SCHOOL HOUSE

Leaving the Abbey, Dan headed towards the small town of Kirkoswald. This time it was his turn to take a deep breath, back up, and pull into the parking lot of the A. D. Rattray's Whisky Experience & Whisky Shop. Because we had to forego the 'Scottish Whisky Trail' which runs north of Edinburgh due to time constraints, this little shop, we hoped, would pacify us until next time. It did not fail...

RAPHAEL MARINONI

Greeted at the door by a handsome gentleman we would soon be calling Raphael (Marinoni), we proceeded to tour the main room only to discover so many hidden gems. Raphael let it be known that we would be able to sample most of them if we wished to. Pure Heaven. So, I began with their Sloe Gin and it was hardly the product I would associate with my college memories, at all. It was so smooth and ridiculously 

delicious!

Sloe, another term for blackthorn, is the small bluish-black fruit of the blackthorn, or Prunus Spinoza, a species of flowering plant in the rose family. These plants are native to Europe and were handpicked in Scotland. Then, the finest London Dry Gin is blended with the highest quality Sloes using their unique recipe resulting in this fruity and floral concoction of the gods. Yes, we did bring some home with us.

SAMPLING THE DELICIOUSNESS...

As Marsha and I were remembering our college socializing days (nights), the guys were in the Cask Room listening about the history of a thirty-year-old Scotch Whisky, matured in a single sherry cask, the color of flame gold, with a nose of mandarin, cardamom, and cinnamon, a palate of rum and raisin with coriander and clove, and a finish of Seville orange, molasses and white pepper. Need I say more?

THIRTY-YEAR-OLD SCOTCH WHISKY~
WAITING TO BE LABELED AND WAXED

APPLYING THE FINISHING TOUCHES

Raphael’s official title is Retail Division Manager. We regarded him as our 'Official Reference Guide' to all things liquid, flavorful, and smooth on the palate...sophisticated and discriminating to the taste. With his impressive knowledge and infectious passion for Scotch whisky, Raphael added his fine collection of entertaining anecdotes to our conversations keeping us smiling, if not laughing, our entire stay.

MICHAEL EXPRESSING HIS CONCERNS
TO DAN ABOUT GETTING ALL OF THIS HOME!

RAPHAEL IS HAPPILY WRAPPING UP
ALL OF OUR PURCHASES

The stars aligned for our visit with Raphael. The knowledge we gained by listening intently to the history of Scotch whisky laced with his marvelous sense of humor, will remain with all of us, forever. Besides, even the fairyland title of A. D. Rattray's Whisky Experience & Whisky Shop, Established in 1868 captures all of the charm of a British cinematic production. Take time to book a tasting event when you travel there and remember their phrase which encapsulates the beauty of the original school house turned Whisky Shop: We Have A Whisky For Everyone!

THE FINISHED PRODUCTS....
HOME, SAFE AND SOUND!

Right about now, as we were on the road once again heading to our final destination, Wigtown, we asked ourselves what could possibly top our whisky experience? Well, the Irish Sea, of course!

OUR FIRST GLIMPSE OF
THE IRISH SEA

THE MAGNIFICENT CLOUD COVER OFFERED
AMPLE VARIATIONS OF LIGHT AND SHADOWS

The A-77 turned south at Turnberry and we caught our first glimpse of the Irish Sea that day. The Ailsa Craig is an island located sixteen kilometers (ten miles) out from the coast and juts out of the sea like an enormous gray gem floating in its liquid setting of blue, gray, and white. It resembled a gigantic turtle rising from the watery depths of time and space. Topped by a halo of menacing storm clouds, this island captured our attention for quite a while.

A TORTOISE SHELL EMERGING
FROM THE WATERS

AILSA CRAIG, THE GEM OF THE IRISH SEA

As Dan followed the natural curvature of land along the sea, we could stop and shoot the Ailsa Craig from many different angles and perspectives. The constant motion of the intense cloud cover dappled it with shapely shadows and mystifying light.

The coast was mesmerizing as picturesque green hills butted up against the lapping waves and were dotted with handsome cows and color-marked sheep grazing away in the misty daylight. By now, Dan had really gotten into the rhythm of spotting potential photo ops and began scouting for them on his own. However, if the light faded or if it became too cloudy, Michael and I would politely tell him no and Dan would drive on to the next brilliant location. 

LOOKING OUT TO SEA

THE GREEN HILLS ROLLING
DOWN TO THE SEA

Saying good-bye to the Irish Sea, we turned inland near the town of Castle Kennedy and followed the A-75 before having to jut off onto smaller roads heading due east to Wigtown. The Scottish scenery never disappointed and always left us desiring more and more. Like most of us tend to do, we pictured what life would be like in this or that town and envisioned how exciting it would be waking up each morning in any one of the surrounding, beautiful country settings. We imagined what it must have been like years ago tending the livestock or keeping the farmstead clean and its inhabitants healthy and well fed. 

Traveling can often be like living within the illustrated pages of a history book. And, it doesn’t matter if we’re learning about two whisky-loving families, the Walkers and the Morrisons, who married together in the mid 1900's and whose skills and knowledge were passed down from  generation to generation or capturing the perfect shot of a cloud dappled island living far out to sea. By visiting the multitude of local museums you find along the way, you understand how they offer any traveler the foundation he or she needs to better appreciate the people, habits, and work ethics of those who lived, laughed, cried, and loved there before you. 

As we reached the edge of Wigtown and anticipated the treasures to be discovered there within the covers of its books, speaking with its local personalities, and visiting its unique spaces, I asked Dan to stop one more time before entering the town. Snapping one final picture, I now realize that I was formally marking our territory with this photo and creating a buffer zone of personal space between the outside world and Wigtown itself. I believe it worked because our visit was magical, albeit way too short. 

To be continued...  The Wigtown Book Festival!

Copyright © 2018 by Jacqueline E. Hughes

All rights reserved

Photo Copyright © 2018 by Jacqueline E. Hughes

All rights reserved

A SIMPLE LESSON IN THANKFULNESS...

A series of thoughts and ideas....

HAPPY THANKSGIVING ~ 2018

....as seen through my eyes!




By: Jacqueline E. Hughes


Driving home from a visit with Janis and Fred at their beautiful farm yesterday, silently thinking of everything we have to be thankful for, the beauty and diversity of life was passing us by beyond the truck's stained windows.

Less than a mile away, we stopped along the side of the road. Earlier, Janis had pointed out two, monolithic structures just across the snow dusted fields from their farmhouse. 

We stopped. 

AN AMISH FARMSTEAD

WAITING IN LINE FOR THEIR 'HORSEPOWER'

THE AMISH LIMOUSINE...

 The diversity of the population of Michigan can surprise people at times. It still amazes me when an Amish horse and buggy shares the scene with a huge, black Ford F-150 truck. Redeemed and blessed are two words that come to mind.

Poor Dan! Just when he thought he was finished stopping along the side of these narrow country roads...I ask him to stop again. 

The beauty of lives passed, dreams remembered, silence observed...gently wrapped us within a cloak of imagination!  

LUTTENTON CEMETERY

There was not a church in site. Had there been many years ago, long since torn down? 

I was thankful for the souls of Luttenton that surrounded me; for all of their hard work, happiness, sad times, and the right to grace this simple plot of land on this crisp, November morning!

THANKFUL FOR THE DETERMINATION
OF THE AUTUMN SUN

As the bone chilling cold swept through my little hilltop retreat, I kept snapping away at the stark, multilayered scene surrounding us. The brilliant colors constantly cutting through my vision like sharp, chef knives and it was difficult to continue, at times, as tears flooded my vision.

AN ANCIENT CYPRESS TREE STANDING GUARD

THE SKY PROMISING MORE SNOW!

SHADOWS SPREADING ACROSS
THE SNOW COVERED HILLSIDE...

We live in a multi-cultured, totally diversified, amazing world. Let's be thankful for everyone and all of their contributions to the life we share together. 

Let us open up our hearts and minds everyday to the possibilities that surround us as brothers and sisters of this land-of-the-free we call...home!

WITH LOVE....!

Copyright © 2018 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved
Photo Copyright © 2018 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved

SAY BUDDY, CAN YOU SPARE A FIVER?

 A series of essays....

SHARING DOWNTOWN ORLANDO WITH
MY BROTHER-IN-LAW, CHRIS

....as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

A story I read many months ago has stuck with me every day since roaming about our new hometown of Kalamazoo, Michigan, and observing the many homeless people who push their ‘carts of worldly belongings’ from one area to another. Mind you, Orlando, Florida, where we recently moved from, was not immune to having a large contingent of homeless folks, however, it always seemed more reassuring to note that in the winter months they weren’t, necessarily, freezing, lonely, or completely helpless. I'm not sure how often those living in empty, tree-filled lots were thought about as many of us sat quite comfortably in our ‘climate controlled’ small, stucco mansions touting the false securities of our gated communities.

The story went something like this: 

When confronted by the homeless population, please don’t think of them as anything but who they are. Do not believe that their primary agenda is to collect a small nest egg in order to improve their situation or do what we, their observers and donators, think they should do with the money they are, half reluctantly, given. We are not their judges, mentors, or guardian angels meant to gently touch them with thoughts without actually touching them in order to persuade or coerce them into becoming viable citizens of the community.

These are gentle souls who live by their own agendas. If we so choose to contribute financially to them in either small or larger increments, know that we are doing so out of our own love for humanity. We often gather the collectivity of moral and ethical standards or judgments while applying our emotional concerns when seeing a homeless person; to the point where we apply the principle that our conscience and sense of duty towards our fellow man should compel us to react to their hardships whether or not we understand the fundamental concept of why or how they have embraced their particular hardship on their own.

Many of our homeless individuals find their solace in the principle of self-preservation.

When we consciously decide to provide someone with financial aid, we should not concern ourselves with what they will spend it on. Believe me, our spare change to them is, in reality, a small contribution to their bad habits and keeps them trolling for more, day and night. What they spend it on should not matter to us. What does matter is that we have opened-up our hearts to a fellow human being and, with any luck, they may, in fact, use it to secure a solid meal every once in awhile. 

 You have a choice. You can contribute to the homeless population or not. It’s your decision.

THE FACE OF HOMELESSNESS

                           Courtesy of Wikipedia

Please don’t think poorly of me for paraphrasing another person’s thoughts and adapting their feelings into my own story. I agree with the author when it comes down to not being an unfortunate person’s judge or lording it over him with our own personal principles of moral and ethical standards. 

However, as with just about everything else, there are exceptions to this train of thought. Our nation’s current, unstable economical status quo has given rise to many destitute families now having to exist within the poverty level. Families who enjoyed middle-class status along with their parents and grandparents before them, have been squeezed dry by loss of employment, as well as any investments or savings that had been slated for any one of life’s many unknowns such as providing for an aging parent, unforeseen health issues, the loss of a spouse, and the unexpected loss of income.

Since the economic depression we endured in 2008, homes have fallen into foreclosure, personal credit scores have plummeted to extreme depths. Many families, to this day, continue to live in small hotel rooms (if they can afford it), abandoned buildings, or their own vehicles and remain thankful for any financial help they receive just to survive another day. The onslaught of the Trump administration has only served to exacerbate the plight of the the entire Middle Class in our country.

The agenda for these families is to climb out of this hole of oppression and seek the life that they had at one time enjoyed and worked so hard to maintain.

Dan and I took his brother, Christopher, to downtown Orlando one day to introduce him to the night life of the ‘City Beautiful’ including the Church Street attractions, people watching, and a visit to the Orange County Regional History Center located on Central Boulevard. After parking in one of the several ramps, we walked over to the dark, secluded elevator as a gentleman came out of the shadows and asked if we could spare some change. Dan and I looked at one another. But, Chris....well, he automatically pulled out a five dollar bill and gladly handed it to the man who, consequently, smiled and thanked Chris, profusely.

On the elevator ride down to street level, we asked Chris how it was so simple for him to hand over five of his hard earned dollars to this stranger, especially when you know that the odds are he will just head for the nearest liquor store with it. His kind and thoughtful reply stays with me to this day....

“You see, I’ve been there. I know what it’s like to be down on my luck and have people look at me with side-long glances or something. Granted, I was just trying to keep a roof over my head and my car running so that I could get to work every day. Eating one square meal a day at the local Waffle House was a luxury for me. So, I really don’t care if he took my money and ran down the stairs to buy a bottle of the ‘brown bag vino’ of his choice. If I helped him live through another chilly night without giving-up on himself, and doing it in the best way he knows how with no questions asked....I feel I did the right thing by him.”

That’s my brother-in-law; kind, gentle, spiritual, and understanding of the plight of others. Thank you, Chris, for your compelling insight! 

So, yes.....unless your plan is to create major changes by helping people in need and show them how to help pull themselves up by the bootstraps and create a better life for themselves and their family, by all means, invest your time, money (if available), and emotions towards this cause. Roll-up your sleeves and help provide holiday meals for the needy without making them feel guilty or indebted to society. Provide clean clothes and a helping hand towards seeking employment. Give them the hope and desire for a brighter future.

Always know that you can be kind and helpful to others, even those who will fritter away whatever you bless them with, and you don’t have to feel guilty about doing it. And, of course, you realize you can just walk away from them, instead. The kindness you show must come from your heart. When your heart is made just that ‘little bit’ lighter because you cared, it doesn’t really matter where the money is spent. And, maybe, just maybe, you will have done the right thing by them, after all.

Copyright © 2018 by Jacqueline E. Hughes

All rights reserved

THE ASPIRATIONS OF A TRAVEL BLOGGER

A series of essays....

THE MISTY CLIFFS OF MOHER SHOT ON A WILD AND
WINDY DAY FROM DOOLIN PIER

....as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

The scorched earth smell of peat fires burning seems to linger on, reluctant to leave, even after having returned from Ireland weeks ago. The raw, pungent perfume of gasoline fumes  remains a pleasant memory as I picture my dad filling-up the tank of our powder-blue Chevrolet before leaving on a family excursion to grandma and grandpa’s farm on a Saturday morning or, to Chicago to spend the day at the Museum of Science and Industry. 

Indelible marks leaving lasting impressions incapable of being removed through time, space, or memory.

Choosing these two examples, our most recent trip to Ireland and an example of other trips enjoyably recalled from my childhood, it’s easy to understand how these lingering memories represent many of the major reasons why we love to travel in the first place. As travelers, we bring home certain triggers that will serve to arouse feelings associated with a particular travel experience we, subconsciously, wish to remember. And, certain smells, sounds, and visuals can prompt happy times spent traveling with family and friends throughout the years.

DAN AND I ENJOYING DINNER WITH OUR FRIENDS,

MICHAEL AND MARSHA AT THE LIME TREE 
IN THE TOWN OF KENMARE, IRELAND.

Taking photos during a trip remains one of the most popular means of capturing digital highlights that will become my visual chronicle of events, a detailed recollection of a particular place or travel memory. Organizing these pictures in a Snapfish or Vistaprint photo book or, organizing them on an IOS Flash Drive will help preserve your visual memories for a very long time. 

Sadly, I am one of those people who tends to leave my photos on my smartphone even when I see this unimaginable number steadily grow throughout the duration of many trips, special occasions, and ‘save photo’ options that often revolve around my grandchildren. And, I can totally justify my behavior! You see, I am constantly going back through them as I gather, sort, and select a few for each Blog post I write and, eventually, publish. They serve as my lifeline to Blog ideas, as well as illustrations for each post. I know, carrying my IOS Flash Drive would be as convenient and far more flexible. Baby steps...

A LANE POSSESSING
 INFINITE POSSIBILITIES!

A COZY HAVEN FORSAKEN
BY WEATHER AND TIME...

I like to think of my stories as little vignettes representing my travels along with all of the entertaining and beautiful people and, happenstance that touch my life while moving about from one place to another. Naturally, the main goal of every travel blogger, I believe, is to capture a file folder of these brief evocative accounts or episodes that represent our time discovering other places and share all of these first-hand revelations with as many people as possible after returning home. So, traveling for me becomes deeper and much more multi-layered.

My photographs are my friends. Each one represents a child I have nurtured from its initial conception; set-up, arranged, brought forth from the light surrounding it, and positioned with care right before hitting the small, round button that pushes it out into the world for my perusal and final approval. This process brings me so much joy and delight and keeps me trying harder and harder to make the next photo that much better.

Taking some amazing shots of such beautiful places as the Wild Atlantic Way along Ireland’s hauntingly beautiful and rugged west coast, is easier to do than you might think. The light, colors, textures, and sheer beauty of this particular portion of Ireland astounds me more and more with every visit we make. I might be looking one way, taking a picture of a moss-covered stone wall, turn my head slightly and be able to capture a completely different shot filled with all of the glory that the first picture possessed but set in a new and unique composition. 

I will forever attribute my love of Connemara, Galway, the Aran Islands, the village of Doolin, and the limestone moonscapes of the Burren to the magical feeling I feel inside whenever I am there.

OUR LOCAL PUB ACQUAINTANCES AT
LEONARD'S GROCERY AND BAR---
LAHARDANE, COUNTY MAYO 

MARY, THE OWNER'S DAUGHTER,
MADE THE BEST GIN & TONICS...!

GROCERIES, BOOTS, AND SHOES ON ONE SIDE
AND THE BAR ON THE OTHER....

....WHO COULD WANT ANYTHING MORE?

The ultimate goal of a travel blogger, what we mainly aspire to achieve, is to accurately record and present, to the best of our ability, a written account of what we have witnessed, discovered, enjoyed (sometimes, not enjoyed), and photographed. We do this for those who want to read about where we have traveled and for those who may desire to travel to these places themselves in the future. Keeping our story as honest, quirky, informative, and generally entertaining as possible is the goal we set out to achieve and is the main responsibility of every travel blogger.

I will mentally walk through each vignette, eyes closed, as I plan which story I will pull-out of my ‘travel file’ before committing it to words. Becoming familiar, once again, with the sights, sounds, tastes, smells, and actions of each segment encourages me to carry-on and produce my opening sentence. Often, I base my choice of story on a particular picture I’ve taken and this offers me the opportunity to add more pictures, before publishing, that will coincide with and offer more visual awareness and credence to my words.

MET THIS SWEETHEART
IN THE BURREN PERFUMERY
TEA ROOM 

BURREN PERFUMERY
HERB GARDEN

I love my job! I enjoy making choices (almost never in chronological order), and by the time I walk away from my PC, several hours after publishing my story via social media, I feel proud of what I’ve done. 

My Website (Moving On...2018), includes this note which sums-up how I approach sharing a variety of life’s stories with my readers: 

“I am so happy to welcome in the new year, 2018!!! My Blog is changing-up a bit....mainly because I am evolving. Travel will always take precedence in my life and, my journeys will be shared with you. This 2018 version will offer a variety of new stories and personal ideas, as well. This is all about having fun and enjoying this Beautiful Journey called......Life!!!”

Call the story I am sending out into the ethos today self-promotion or a guide to travel blogging or both but, it is precisely because I enjoy what I do so much, that it would be impossible for me to not write about ‘life’s little vignettes’ that I live through and then, happily, share.

WALKING UP THE HILL IN OUR BACKYARD
TO CATCH THE LIGHT OF THE SETTING SUN

A GREY DAY IN GALWAY CITY...
REFLECTING ON LIFE AS I SAT
ON THE SHORES OF GALWAY BAY!

Travel is a feeling we have in our hearts. It may be a two-week stay in Ireland or France, or, simply, a shopping excursion to the local grocery store. Each moment of our life draws from the next moment and creates our journey along the way. Please remember to fill your journey with Love and Respect for the places and people you meet along each winding road and I promise you will learn from and appreciate the true meaning of travel.     

Copyright © 2018 by Jacqueline E. Hughes

All rights reserved

Photo Copyright © 2018 by Jacqueline E. Hughes

All rights reserved