Cavern Watch: Turning Inward Toward Metaphor

Cavern Watch - Image c Lynda Lehmann

The owl with his huge eyes and prominent brow is seen as watchful.  Is his vigilance a metaphor for the subconscious mind, perhaps?  He is often seen as a symbol of wisdom or an incarnation of awareness.  But could he be seen also as a symbol or harbinger of things to come?  Or even of the ultimate?  We all face death at the end of our individual and collective life cycles, so it makes sense that we would project our thoughts about our mortality onto some external symbol, in order to deal with our apprehensions.   
Seeing the owl as metaphor is widespread among cultures. What is it in our human psyche that pushes us to recognize or attribute comparisons by way of metaphor?  Is it inherent in our need to clarify or find meaning in the human experience, to understand our world?
For me, a cavern also makes a good metaphor.  I see it as an apt symbol for the inner workings of the individual psyche and for the human body, which "contains" the elements i.e. organs and awareness that we need to be alive, and to live what we call a "life." 
Plato, a student of Socrates, used the cave metaphor differently, in a parable in which Socrates explains the nature of true knowledge being beyond that which can be ascertained by watching shadows move against a wall in a cave setting, which you can read about here if you are interested.  
On a recent trip to Luray Caverns in Virginia, I had the pleasure of photographing many of the cave's remarkable formations.  As you can see, they can resemble anything from practical everyday objects to objects of magic or incarnations from what some cultures believe is the "Spirit World."

Hall of the Ancient Spirits - Image c Lynda Lehmann

Lake of the Underworld - Image c Lynda Lehmann

Primordial Cascade - Image c Lynda Lehmann

Greek classical philosophers and children's fables and fairy tales aside, what's your idea of a good metaphor?  Do you find that a particular symbol is prominent in your conscious mind and has special meaning for you?
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All images and text on this blog are copyrighted material, and may be used only with written permission, except where syndication rights have been granted. All other rights reserved. Please visit my primary site at http://www.lyndalehmann.com/gallery if you would like to see my acrylic paintings and more of my photography and digital art. I hope you enjoyed your visit to my blog!

Preening Seagull Dance: A Nature Video

I didn't have time this week to write a long post, so I thought I'd upload this short video I shot on the beach this past winter. Or maybe it was early spring; I guess that depends on your viewpoint and how literally you take the calendar!

The snow was still melting on the beach, it was a mild day, and this seagull was up for a good cleansing bath. I thought his behavior was so animated and interesting, and I'm glad he let me get close enough to capture it. Nature is so full of wonders!

Please bear with me in that I'm posting and commenting less than usual, as we are still in the throes of house construction and remodeling. I didn't forget about you, and hold my blogging friends dear.

I hope to be more "present" soon. I hope you're having lovely late-summer days, filled with warmth, discovery, and wonders of your own making.

All video and text copyright Lynda Lehmann. All rights reserved.

If you would like to view my art or make a purchase, please visit Lynda Lehmann Painting and Photography or my gallery at Imagekind, where you can choose from several sizes and paper types or buy my prints plain or matted and framed.

Serene Lake Scenes, Seen from the Shallows

Glory

Heading Out

Pointing West

Preening Loon and Mate

Reflections of Heaven

Where A Tree Grows

Heads Up

Tendrils

Emerging Lilies

A Whisper and A Prayer

Emerald Grasses

Cove

Yesterday we worked until 4:30. It was time to call it a day, a bit earlier than usual. We needed a break so we took our small aluminum boat out. It's well-suited to shallow waters, and easier to handle than a canoe, when encumbered with a camera and bag.

We headed into the fresh-water marsh at the near end of the lake, and here are a few photos of the delightful sights we saw. I didn't get a good shot of the new beaver lodge--last year's is abandoned--but I'll post it when I get one.

As you can see, the most elegant and luminous golden grasses sparkled in the sparkling water, while emerging, fresh (as yet uneaten by beetles) lily pads with unfurling scalloped edges floated in the sun. In the photo above, what you see sprinkled in the water around the lilies, is pollen. Pollen was everywhere, in staggering amounts, washed into long necklace-like strands that coated plant life, boulders, and fallen snags. It seemed a fitting counterpoint to the ice lines etched on the flanks of rocks protruding from the water.

The globes of yellow lily flowers poked their heads above the water's surface like little echoes of the golden sun.

A large turtle basked on a sunken log, and he stayed still as we cut the engine to float nearer to him. When finally I made the mistake of moving my leg over an oar--we always take oars in case the engine fails--he disappeared.

We saw a Baltimore Oriole singing on a bush, seemingly a song of joy. Unfortunately my shots of the Oriole are blurry, so I left them out.

At the far end of the marsh we cut the engine again and sat transfixed and awed by the symphony of bull frog and peeper calls that echoed out of the shallows, filling the world and transforming it with sound, as the gentle breeze rocked the boat and caressed our cheeks.

Shadows of clouds in the water made an alluring parallel universe of ripples and reflections.

I just wanted to convey some of the splendor and pouring forth of new life that we were able to partake of. It's not easy to get quality shots from a moving (and rocking) 17-foot boat, but I try.

Being in Maine makes me feel at peace. It's like being on another planet, a planet once lost and forgotten but forever imbued in our consciousness... All my dreams return to me and come alive when I'm here. I LOVE the deep, resilient silence of the starlit night, and the infinite shimmer and flux of the lake by daylight. And the cries of the loon....

I only wish I could share it all with you in real-time.

I wish you peace and joy on Father's Day!

All images and text c Lynda Lehmann. If you would like to view more of my art or make a purchase, please visit Lynda Lehmann Painting and Photography or my gallery at Imagekind, where you can choose from several sizes and paper types or buy my prints plain or matted and framed.