The Changing Seasons: August 2016

Early, foggy morning; Hobsonville Point, Auckland, NZ. Boots moored in distance. Image: Su Leslie, 2016

Early morning; Hobsonville Point, Auckland, NZ. Image: Su Leslie, 2016

I hope I can look back and say that August 2016 was the worst month of my recent life. Really. Because that will mean that things have got better.

Of course “worst” is relative, and compared to so many people, I’m incredibly fortunate.But internally, on a scale of one to smiling, I’m barely registering a lip twitch.

It’s been a month of sadness; watching the Big T’s mother slip away from us.

A month of worry. About the health of our remaining parents, work issues plaguing family members, our boy-child’s living arrangements.

Of frustration. Too many things are out of our control. Without input from others for whom our issues aren’t that important, we’re left in a holding pattern, circling, running out of fuel.

Add a cancelled holiday, on-going back pain and a wicked cold, and I really am a grumpy little unit.

So my image for the Cardinal’s Changing Seasons challenge pretty much sums up how I’m feeling. I know the means to travel onward is out there; I can see it through the mist. I’m just not quite sure how I’m going to get to it. Pity I’m not a better swimmer.

The Changing Seasons is a monthly challenge hosted by Cardinal Guzman. Please visit to see the Cardinal’s month, and find links to other participants.

There are two versions of the challenge:

Version 1 (The Changing Seasons V1):

Tag your posts with #MonthlyPhotoChallenge and #TheChangingSeasons
Each month, post 5-20 photos in a gallery.
Don’t use photos from your archive. Only new shots.

Version 2 (The Changing Seasons V2):

Tag your posts with #MonthlyPhotoChallenge and #TheChangingSeasons
Each month, post one photo (recipe, painting, drawing, whatever) that represents your interpretation of the month.
Don’t use archive stuff. Only new material!


31 thoughts on “The Changing Seasons: August 2016

  1. What a lovely view of the early morning sunrise, Su. This may be a rough patch for you but things will settle down. No point in worrying about thing that you have no control over. You do have a summer to look forward to. Good times ahead.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Love the photo, Su, although I hope your fog burns off soon. I have similar feelings when things aren’t going well: I feel I really can’t complain because so many have it so much worse. Only a few months ago, the relatively young husband of a co-worker died unexpectedly of a heart attack, leaving her with two daughters, one college-aged, one at the end of junior high. How can my petty annoyances vie with those? So then I feel guilty for feeling bad a/o out of sorts. Silly me. At any rate, I hope, too, that this was the worst month of your life and that it stays that way for many years.


    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you Janet. You are right; there is nothing like lifting our heads above the parapet to realise how others are suffering much more. I feel so sad for your colleague. Raising our children is challenging enough without having to do it alone, and with so much grief to bear.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Oh no! This is indeed too much bad stuff in one month! But that´s how it always seems to be … like fate or what/whoever thinks: “Ah, well, she´s already suffering, so why not add a bit more? She hardly will notice the difference.” But of course, we do and that´s just bullsh..! I really hope your cold and the back pains will evaporate just like that beautiful mist you captured so well! And that everything else will also settle down. I know how it feels, been kind of living in a loop for the past two years… It´s all about sticking it out, I sometimes think… xxxxx

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Oh Su – I’m so sorry you have had such an ugly month.

    We have a tendency to feel guilty about being angry/sad/frustrated about the things that turn our lives upside-down. We think we don’t have a *right* to those feelings because there are other people who are much worse off.

    You are entitled to your feelings without guilt or qualification. Don’t apologize for it.
    I hope you find your sense of control again soon!!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you Joanne. You are right; as kids we’re “encouraged” to downplay our own problems by being told how much worse off others are and I guess that gets internalised. My mother’s favourite was to guilt us into (over)-eating by reminding us of “starving kids in India”!

      I woke up this morning feeling like my cold is finally gone, and it’s amazing how much difference that has made to my energy level and enthusiasm for life.

      Hope your shoulder is healing well and you’re finding new adventures to anticipate and enjoy.


  5. It’s a beautiful image, Su, regardless of what it represented to you. I’m sorry to hear about what you’ve been through and wish you patience and strength to ‘see the light, at the end of the tunnel’.
    As all small or big cycles of life, this misty step is, and will always be there. Hang in there. You’ll be fine.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Pingback: The Changing Seasons: August 2016 – Cardinal Guzman

  7. Sorry to hear about your loss and your horrible month. The photo is beautiful though.

    I read this thing last night, apparently it’s something Christopher Walken said, and I think it’s beautiful words:

    «Someday you will be faced with the reality of loss. And as life goes on, days rolling into nights, it will become clear that you never really stop missing someone special who’s gone, you just learn to live around the gaping hole of their absence. When you lose someone you can’t imagine living without, your heart breaks wide open, and the bad news is you never completely get over the loss. You will never forget them. However, in a backwards way, this is also the good news. They will live on in the warmth of your broken heart that doesn’t fully heal back up, and you will continue to grow and experience life, even with your wound. It’s like badly breaking an ankle that never heals perfectly, and that still hurts when you dance, but you dance anyway with a slight limp, and this limp just adds to the depth of your performance and the authenticity of your character. The people you lose remain a part of you. Remember them and always cherish the good moments spent with them.»

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s