Today I took a walk into town. Somehow shorter than I thought it would be, I arrived in about 20 minutes. I dressed with a little more care, not the usual t-shirt, jeans and green Birkenstock garden clogs I’ve been wearing every day. I do jazz them up with bright-colored socks though, always one to provide a little flair I put on some make-up but I have to say, a more minimalist application than before. I admit to feeling elated when I styled something new. Joining me was my camera, a mask, and a determination to leave some of my isolation behind.
During my time alone, I work in the yard and do yoga outside for my physical and emotional well-being. The study of creative writing and photography keeps my cognitive abilities from slipping away. Calvin now spends so much time commuting I don’t want to burden him with taking photographs of me in his free time. I want him to enjoy our house and the boundless pleasures found in the garden.Using a self-timer and a tripod I practice finding the right f-stops, shutter speeds
, ISO, and the art of self-portraiture. A book about women photographers sits on my piecrust table, a flea market find. I explore those who took on the study of self like Cindy Sherman, Francesca Woodman, and Claude Cahun. I photograph “things” that move me at the moment like rainbow-colored vegetable peels on the grainy weathered wood of an old cutting board before their trip to the compost heap, dark violets, and green leaves like a Rembrandt painting, old books, and architecture from where I live now. I take creative writing classes and take part in writing groups in the hope I can transition to a less academic way of writing about big ideas.
On this walk I take a photograph to remember a nuance or something that strikes me, exploring all the textures of this unfamiliar landscape as if it were the body of a new lover. Like me, my new little city is becoming. Old homes like mine are being renovated by those who came from the city known as “exurbanists.” In the early stages of development, there are still many opportunities to not repeat the mistakes of other river and valley towns once abandoned and come to life again through gentrification. There’s still time to make sure that those who lived here well before us, do not get displaced or priced out. Neatly divided, the demographic pie of this city is three equal slices; Black, Hispanic and white. Given the enormity of the challenges my country and the world are facing at the moment, focusing my activism on this bounded microcosm of society that is now my home feels doable and way less overwhelming. I’ll stand on my porch, talk with my neighbors and see how I might be of use. This will come from them and not me.
I reach the center of town, a small through street now closed to traffic, filled with tables and chairs. It’s bounded by a coffeehouse that lives in a flatiron-shaped building sharing space with a gallery and new shop that makes me feel like a visit to Brooklyn. There’s a cafe that provides live music on the weekends, now in the warmth of spring, outside. When I enter the coffee shop, known as the living room of our city, a wave of familiarity engulfs me. Yet there is something different and unknown. 
Laptops are open, books and newspapers too and the hands holding them reflect the slices of pie. There’s a tin ceiling, an eclectic and mismatched bunch of tables and chairs from the 60s and 70s and tattooed, nose ringed baristas. There’s a contest for “badass” of the week and bags of coffee with graphically pleasing and colorful labels. There are vegan food options and colorful art from local artists sits on the walls. People of all ages mingle together, and I am delirious with excitement. After weeks of being home, I feel like I just took a trip to the Taj Mahal or some other wonder of the world. If I look out the window and down the steep hill, I can see the river, the mountains that surround us, the parkland and trees vibrantly emerald green because of the moody weather of this delayed spring. Every possibility for blooming like the tight balls of the peony buds in my garden exists here and the isolation and anxiety I feel about “not knowing” what will be or what comes next drifts away. Face to the sun I sit with my Chai latte, notebook, camera, neighbors and just be.
What’s your “bud”? Where are you seeing possibilities?
I always considered myself a person that appreciated things.
Now more than ever, since the pandemic, I am really appreciating being alive and able to make changes that before wouldn’t come as easily….
I guess we all learned change and a massive one at that can come in a day. We also learned how quickly we could adapt.
I love see you with all the fashions and your home that you are refurbishing.
I see you’ve moved to Peekskill, that is my childhood home town. I grew up on Ringgold St. when the old high school was across the street. We left in early 70s to Garrison and lived in the old hotel (Vandergelders) at the River front, where Hello Dolly was filmed. I know live in the PNW. Enjoying your love for life!
Diane
Ah, Ringold Street is now populated by many young couples and families from Brooklyn. They are really cherishing the city and very active in making it even more lovely.
I … haven’t reached the town phase yet. Even if I wanted to, it is not within my range right now: our village has 987 inhabitants: no shops, no cafes, no nothing (but a few closed restaurants, a motorcycle dealer and a milk products vending machine) and I have stopped driving a car. Never even owned any. But. 🙂 This is the first time we own a garden, a biggish one, and it offers many, many adventures … like plants that just pop out (lily of the valley), plants that we planted and are now checking on day by day (heather), a lawn that is half moss and half grass and thus very non-English … BTW, I accidentally bought the same lawn mover as you (as seen on IG). So how was your first time? My grass was 7 months old when I used it for the first time and after a few seconds I thought I wasn’t gonna make it. The second time was easy and it made me very, very happy. Which, accidentally or not, is also the state of mind I reach when reading your blog posts.
Thank you so much! And yes the first time I used the mower, for those who don’t follow on Instagram, it’s a regular push one because we are being eco. The first time took me hours because I had to stop and rest bringing the enlightenment that when it’s short it’s way easier to cut. So now I do it once a week and it’s a breeze.
This is a lovely piece. Really captures many of the feelings I have at the moment. Don’t change your writing style too much…
Taking care of our physical and emotional well-being is very important.
Just do what makes you happy. 🙂
Quite true, but bills still need to be paid.
tired of the job i am doing right now for quite a long time, though it is a well payed civil servant one, preparing to be a full-time painter since decade ago, it seems present is the right timing to quit the old one and embark on a new one which might be risky while worthy. Waiting for a godly sign soon.
Ah, I too am thinking about switching lanes. Retiring from academia to just to Accidental Icon felt enormously risky. It worked well for a year and then came the pandemic. I’ve picked up some consulting in workforce development. You may want to think about the option of doing your regular job part-time or consulting in your area.
Ahahah, thanks for your advice, will seriously consider as an option. Though risky and unpredictable sometimes when we make changes, it also makes life more interesting.
For me, anything new is exciting. Restaurants, towns, road trips take me from a mundane life. At 57, I added a 2nd career, and worked both jobs until 66 and retired. While I enjoyed being with people, I found another life of solo travel. I spent 4 years traveling and exploring. It made me feel alive and excited with each new location. I shed a suitcase and only had a backpack and I felt more freedom. I could go by bus, boat or airplane any day I choose. I met fascinating people, I was in love with travel. Then the pandemic hit and I headed home. Home alone for a year and slowly returning to normal, I decided to only go to new places in my own town. Its been fun exploring my hometown, meeting new people, new restaurants and museums. This is when I realized that I alone create the happiness within myself. Now I’m just waiting on the world to open its doors for me to continue traveling.
Profound epiphany, thanks for sharing it.
Your writing was lovely, kept me reading as I could feel the emotion. Nice piece. Thank you!
Thanks for the support for my writing, it helps mpore than you know.
I am fortunate to live in a state — Tennessee — where those 65 and older can attend state colleges for free, and actually earn credit and a degree. Three weeks ago, I decided to enroll and work toward my second master’s degree. Classes start in two days. Staying mentally fit is as important as staying physically fit, and I’m looking forward to this new adventure!
How wonderful, what a great opportunity.
I love this. Here in Ontario we are still in lockdown. I want to do all of the things you have described. Miss this.
Hope you can get out soon, but this virus has a way of appearing and re-appearing.
I live in a small town that I now tend to take for granted. I am finding that my general lack of energy for exploration, which I used to embrace, has been exaggerated by pandemic living, and it has made me sad. This post made me think about trying to rejuvenate my creative spirit and rediscover my surroundings. I also need to look in the mirror and find my aging self in a more positive way. Thank you!
Great!
After six months of painful isolation from COVID, one day I drove out to the Ridgefield National Wildlife Refuge, one of over 500 refuges in the country. My “living room” transitioned from the inside of an apartment on the Columbia River to a teeming expanse of wetlands, grassy plains Douglas firs and huge old oaks. My days have been spent photographing white and black tail deer, Eastern cottontails, beavers, mink, river otters, and red dotted garter snakes. I have seen American bitterns mating. I witnessed a coyote capture an adult Canada goose, only to lose his bounty to a bald eagle. I saw an albino nutria. I watched a great horned owl pair nurture their owlet until it fledged. Yesterday I watched a Virginia rail with her three tiny black bundles of joy out on a walk across “water wort”. I have seen the wetlands dry up and sprout tall fields of protective grasses for mating geese, ducks and birds. There have been thousands of tundra swans and snow geese resting for awhile before continuing on their ancient path of migration. Every visit is different…the weather and time of day has some species tucking in and others venturing out. There’s an abundance of rainbows. The goldfinches and purple martins have rotated in and the northern shovelers and Sandhill cranes have moved on. When I have a camera or binoculars in hand my “mind chatter” drifts away and I am fully engaged in the moment. I am listening to the “musical chattering” of ruby-crowned kinglets and the “de-de-de”of the killdeer. I am once again fully engaged in life.
Nature is transformative as I have also discovered in my new life out of the city.
Dear A.I., I am older than you. So you can take this as foreshadowing.
I live alone with my dog in a small Ohio town – pop. 4,150 – yet for all the activity here, why do I get the feeling I am invisible? Do you?
You are wise to recognize the struggle of aging and are dong something about it. Fighting irrelevance and boredom is an issue when the bones and muscles can no longer take us where I want to go.
And Lord knows, there is opportunity and places to go and do in this place where I have lived 54 years.
The town straddles both banks of a scenic river that plunges into a 20-foot high waterfall right in the middle of downtown. This was a muddy mill town way back when but is now gentrified. Too gentrified for my taste. Unlike your new city, our town has lost its blue-collar diversity and we are a colorless population.
There are opportunities to stay active in my town with its vibrant downtown shopping scene. Coffee shops, boutiques and art galleries are plentiful and there are 19 restaurants in four block area, an art center and community playhouse, six parks and some “real” places to buy groceries, pick up a prescription or find the right drill bit.
So why, A.I., do I get this feeling I am invisible? I know why and would love suggestions on how to stop my body from stopping me doing the things I want to do when my mind and spirit still want to do them?
This is indeed an important conversation we need to have. As we face the losses associated with ageing what can we substitute that makes us feel relevant and excited though different from what we used to be able to do? Should we passively accept being invisible and what are ways to resist it? Been doing a lot of thinking and writing about this these days so we will be re-visiting this again.
“There’s a contest for “badass” of the week”
Surely you’ll enter this. You’ve got my vote
Hope so!
Love your descriptive writing, catches all the details and the emotions. Keep on doing those classes!
Thank you!
Such a wonderful description of small town America…what I like to call…the real America that cares about the past and the present and looks to the future to keep the elements that made those of us who grew up in small towns what we are.
Thank you!
I’m living in a city of Australia that is experiencing it’s fourth COVID lockdown, we were advised for a week only however as this Beast grows/spreads daily, it will probably be longer.
Whilst I feel blessed that I do live here with all the safety measures that provides, I feel with this lockdown I’m struggling to stay motivated, so after reading your article my daily walk ( which is Government regulated to within 5klms of my home ) will be to re discover what beauty lies in my neighbourhood.
Thanks you for the motivation to challenge myself, admiration for your work, always
What wonderful suggestions for how we can still enjoy a life and body that may be constrained.
I live in southern WI so we are into late spring/early summer. I always loved watching the plants as they emerge and develop and then burst into bloom. My daffodils and lily of the valley are but a memory but now the penstemon and wild geraniums are opening. Then there’s the lovely textures of hostas and heuchera. I add pots with annuals so there is some color all through the summer especially on my deck surrounding my little fountain. Main problem this year is a dang woodchuck/goundhog. It is devouring many of the annuals. Wiped out a whiskey barrel of lantana so now waiting to see what else is on it’s menu. I too take a lot of pictures. We have a lovely trail system in our town with lovely flowers and animal life and a delightful creek on the part nearest to me. It is revitalizing to stroll down the various paths and see what’s around the corner. Sometimes a doe with 2 fawns, wild turkeys and once a little red fox.
I can almost envision your beautiful natural world.
Thank you for this lovely tour of your new hometown. I adore and become so immersed in your writing. Your blue jean post so resonated with me. I too am fascinated with the changes we make in our lives, many of which only evolve with age.
We moved from LA / 3 million to Cuenca / 600 thousand. New language, new culture, new friends…New slower pace. I am a lucky girl…Gracias por tus sinceras palabras.
Wonderful and thank you, enjoy your new life.
61 years old even though looking style and fashionable. Your are my inspiration. Thank you for sharing this blog. Take care.
Thank you!
Just love reading about your new adventure. I see beauty everywhere now and am very grateful to be in public and visit with others. It is grand.
I see beauty everywhere, even more than before. So glad to get out in public without a mask and see people and visit. Always enjoy your posts and hope to see pictures of your home and gardens.
Thanks so much.
Living in Sydney’s lockdown isn’t so bad on the big scale and while we live with restrictions, I am able to ocean swim every other day.
Ocean swimming came from my love and fear of the sea, I wanted to respond to my fear.
As I’ve continued to swim, over the last year, the ocean’s many personalities has transformed me, there are days I feel utter bliss.
This morning I swam out over swaying deep green sea-grasses to the reef, where areas dropped away revealing colourful fish, two big blue gropers a small Port Jackson reef shark and a stingray, all doing their own thing, like me!
I then swam across to the northern point of Coogee, stopping to hang out in the deep blue, light rays penetrating through the surface to the rocks deep below. I felt no fear at all, appreciating the small steps taken to get here. I feel proud and liberated and connected and so happy to to be able to share this.
I love your posts Lyn, the fashion was a big thing for me, yet how the conversation has transformed and inspired as we change our lives and life changes + challenges us.
Thank you for sharing this beautiful story of transforming fear into wonder. To be alive is to be ever=evolving.
My tight ball of fearing aging is beginning to bud with hope and creativity because of the Accidental Icon’s blogs and videos. Introduced to AI two years ago by my therapist because I didn’t know how I was supposed to dress as a 65-yearold woman, it is only now that I realize I can dress any way that makes me feel alive. By remembering who I am inside (intrepid, iconoclastic, and creative), I am seeing the resurgence of my “style”. Waiting with gratitude for what’s next in life.
Wow you made my day! Thank you.