Monthly Archive for October, 2007

Introducing: Words & Images

Published
by
Sojourn Chronicles
on October 31, 2007
in Words & Images
. 0 Comments

by D. Brent Miller

I have contemplated this for some time. But, how do I present and where do I put it. It is a body of work that I have never published. I think I have it figured out.

The whole concept of Sojourn Chronicles, and Sojourn Publishing, is to publish a body of work about life’s journeys, experiences, lessons learned with a little spirituality thrown in. And of course … sometimes on a motorcycle. I throw the motorcycle into the mix because I believe every time I throw my leg over the bike it’s going to be an adventure. That’s the way life should be–an adventure. Unfortunately, life isn’t always that way. We find ourselves in the humdrum of everyday routine, and I am guilty of humdrum. But it doesn’t have to be that way. Maybe all I need, maybe all you need, is a little inspiration, something you can relate to.

And one more thing: I believe we are given this life to keep growing, to keep learning things, to care for one another and help others along their own path. We are given this choice, this responsibility, until we get it right. It is a life-long process of personal and spiritual growth.

So without further ado, I am announcing a new category of material here in Sojourn Chronicles: Words & Images. W&I will contain prose and images, some of them fine art photos available for sale. Occasionally, I’ll offer a print as a premium gift for your support.

Who knows, maybe all of this will turn into a book?

The presentation for Words & Images will be fairly consistent–one photo that illustrates or accompanies the words. Actually, I did publish one of these before, called We are only visitors. The post may have just printed words for you to read. It may have an audio recording of the work, like an author’s reading at the local coffee house. Or, it may have both. It just depends on how the medium best accommodates the work.

For the introduction, here’s a sample, written and photographed this morning:

Sunrise on Halloween

 Sunrise on Halloween

A reading of Sunrise on Halloween:
 

Printed Word of Sunrise on Halloween:
Autumn has arrived. The colors in the landscapes are turning from their summer greens to autumn reds, yellows and gold. The morning air is crisp, and the frost has appeared on more than one occasion, covering lawns, cars and rooftops with its whiteness.

On this morning, the sun rises in the chill of an open sky, all except for the mare’s tail clouds with their willowy shape lingering above the horizon. The half-moon still lingers overhead, and I turn to my wife, and say, “Look. The moon is shining on my lover.” She looks upward filling her gaze with the moon, and the soft light rising from the horizon. She smiles and then kisses me.–DBrent

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What are we teaching our children?

Published
by
Sojourn Chronicles
on October 30, 2007
in Scribblings
. 0 Comments

by D. Brent Miller

This morning, I went out for a coffee and a breakfast sandwich at one of the local coffee houses. I often go out for coffee if there is something I am reading or researching, and getting out of the home office sometimes helps me focus without the usual distractions.

Finished, I packed up my book, disposed of my garbage, grabbed the remainder of my cup of coffee and headed for the door, just as another patron was coming in, a young mother with child, about three years old.

The scene was striking because she carried in a bundle of papers and a bag, and what appeared to be a toy rifle–a Winchester type gun. It was obviously a toy, so that did not concern me. The child was dressed in camouflage and he carried what was clearly a toy hand gun, like a 45 automatic. It looked big in his little hands. That did not concern me.

So, I said, “Hello there, little soldier.”

He pointed the gun at me and “shot.”

His mom is carrying his rifle. He’s carrying the side arm. And, he’s shooting people who greet him. Where did he learn this? Was he reprimanded? No. What on earth was his mother thinking?

I am all for personal freedom, but I think we, as a society, are not doing enough to teach our youngsters responsibility and accountability in the home. If we were, we wouldn’t be reading or hearing stories about kids, gangs, shootings, guns in schools, and the list goes on. Some of the news stories of today, started somewhere in a home where something was lacking, and it crosses socio-economic lines. How often do we read, “He was a good kid from a fine upstanding home?”–DBrent

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Local ride: escaping on the asphalt

Published
by
Sojourn Chronicles
on October 29, 2007
in Ride-Eat-Ride and Scribblings
. 0 Comments

by D. Brent Miller

The weekend was cool in the Cincinnati area. Of course, the weekend kind of starts on Friday, and so three days are included.

Friday, I needed to throw a leg over the bike and go for a ride. Not a long ride, but just enough to feel the wind in my face, to see the blue sky above and colorful trees passing by, and a surprise or two.

So, I rode up towards Waynesville, OH, and turned south on Waynesville Road, crossed the Little Miami River, and wandered back towards home along the river as much as possible.

Covered bridge over the Little Miami River, Oregonia, OH

It’s a twisty rural road, and wonderful to ride unless you happen to come around a curve facing an oncoming huge dump truck straddling the double-yellow line. If that should happen to you, you might want to quickly swerve towards the white line on the side of the road. Yes, I did.

Saturday, family activities took over so no riding.

Sunday. Let me just say that at about 40 degrees, and dressed like an Eskimo, it was lonely at the UDF. I was the only one to show up for the Sunday Morning Breakfast Ride. The only one. So … I rode home for breakfast, which consisted of cold pizza–not a bad choice.

Later, when the temps had risen considerably, I took a longer ride just to get a few miles in. It was a wonderful warm, sunny, colorful ride.–DBrent

Breakfast ride "in the zone"

Published
by
Sojourn Chronicles
on October 21, 2007
in Ride-Eat-Ride
. 2 Comments

by D. Brent Miller

Have you ever had one of those moments, where everything seems to come together, everything is right in the world, the environment around you is wholesome, and it feels like the whole universe is in harmony?

That was the ride this morning, our Sunday Morning Breakfast Ride through the countryside, in a round-about-way to Blanchester, at the intersections of Ohio State Routes 28, 123, 133, and 730.

Sure, the fellowship is good, and it is always a pleasure to meet up with friends for a breakfast ride, but once we get on the bikes, we’re riding solo, even in the group. So the experience, even though you  might be following someone or leading the pack, is the communication between rider, machine and environment.

2003 Harley Davidson Anniversary edition--the only one from the factory with an optional "suicide stick." It also has a traditional shift.

And today’s environment seemed surreal. Crisp morning air. Blue sky above. Sunshine warming the landscape. Colors on the trees changing. Motorcycle running excellently as always. Warm in my riding gear, the landscape passes by in slow motion. It could have been a music video. Wait! It was a music video in my head with the music provided by George Winston, solo piano.

There must have been half a dozen places I wanted to stop and take pictures, but the group would have disappeared on the horizon. So I compromise. There was a semi truck unloading grain at an elevator complex. Not only could I smell the corn, but also hear the corn rattling around inside as it filled the bins. We passed two private landing strips with windsocks gently waving in the breeze and airplanes parked in hangars or under the open-sided barns. And oh! the twisty, hilly roads surrounded by oranges, reds and yellows.

The colors! Oh, the trees were all the colors of autumn. Of course, my wife would say, “Of course, they look fantastic, Brent. You’ve got your rose-colored sunglasses on.” Okay. My sunglasses do provide a little warming and contrast, but it makes my world look so much more colorful.

Yes, this morning’s ride was “in the zone.”

Breakfast ride to Mc D's Diner, Blanchester, Ohio.

In Blanchester, we stopped for breakfast at Mc D’s Diner, six bikes and seven riders. Nearly everyone ordered one of the two specials. I ordered the #2: two eggs, hash browns, 1/2 order of biscuits and gravy, one slice each of bacon, sausage patty, and ham; for the low, low price of $4.95. Add a cup of coffee, and you’re out the door for $6.36 + a tip.

Afterwards, we separated into two groups, headed back towards our homes. The ride home was just as enjoyable, riding through the countryside on great pavement of the back roads, colorful landscape, and the hum of the engine and the tires on the road. Harmony.–DBrent

Breakfast ride to Blanchester, Ohio.

Eating with strangers

Published
by
Sojourn Chronicles
on October 20, 2007
in Ride-Eat-Ride
. 1 Comment

by D. Brent Miller

Everyone feels comfortable going out to eat with friends or family, but how do you feel about eating with strangers?

Introvert? Extrovert? Some people can’t strike up a conversation with a stranger. Others, like me, have no problem, and neither did the gentleman I sat next to at the restaurant. But, I’m getting ahead of my story.

Storms rolled through the past couple of days, but with the morning’s clear, blue sky and the temperature at 54 degrees, I felt like riding out for some breakfast. My wife is attending a retreat, so it’s just me, the motorcycle and the road. First: the ATM machine for a little cash. Then, a long way around to Lebanon, Ohio, and the Breakfast Club. A fine eating establishment that is always crowded, and more often then not, a waiting line on a weekend morning. Today is no different.

Breakfast_Club

A half a dozen people waited in line for open tables. But, it’s just me, and there is one seat open at the counter … it’s mine. The coffee comes and order placed, I pull out a notebook to jot down some thoughts. I manage to write about a paragraph when the gentleman sitting next to me strikes up a conversation. It’s the usual type of starter: “Busy place.” “Good day for football.” You know, the usual stuff.

Before long, we’re chatting about places we’ve lived, families and a little bit about our travels, and interestingly, how we have visited some of the same places–not locally, but hundreds of miles away.

If I had ridden out to breakfast with the Sunday-Morning-Breakfast-Ride guys, we’d all be chatting away amongst ourselves, and enjoying the ride and food. But, riding alone, you have a better opportunity to meet strangers and learn something new about the locals. It takes a little bit of forwardness, a lean to extrovert personality to meet new people. I learned a long time ago, the world will not come to me. If I want to see and meet the world, I must go to it. Riding alone, and eating at a counter is a great place to start. There is nearly always someone to talk to.

It’s very much like traveling on Amtrak. I enjoy the relaxed nature of train travel, and especially the dining car. Make your reservations for breakfast, lunch or dinner, and when you are seated, you will always be having dinner with strangers at your table. On our train trip to Albuquerque last fall, Lin and I met a number of interesting people–couples and singles. How fascinating to listen to other’s travel stories. Before we returned home, Lin asked, “Where are we going on our next train trip?” She was hooked.

Maybe it’s the stress of airline travel, but I have never had these experiences flying somewhere on business or pleasure. On a huge plane, you’re herded on like cattle, crammed into seats like pigs in farrowing crates, and you just can’t wait for it to be over. You barely speak to your seat partners.

At the Breakfast Club, wait staff is scurrying to take orders, fill coffee cups and deliver food. At the counter, Bob is paying his bill and lingering for just another moment before he walks back home to his woodworking shop.

“It was a pleasure having breakfast with you,” I said.

“It was good to meet you.”

“Hey! Maybe we can meet for breakfast again sometime.”

“I’m here nearly every weekend,” he says. And then, he leaves. His counter space is quickly cleared and a couple takes the empty seats next to me. They talk among themselves.

I pay my bill, wish a “have a great day” to the staff, throw on my riding jacket and grab my tank bag. Outside, the temperatures have warmed. Trees are turning their fall colors, and downtown Lebanon is alive.–DBrent

Downtown_Lebanon