South Quito |
I've been in Ecuador for 11 weeks, having arrived a few days before Christmas. With less than two weeks left I find myself looking forward to home and returning to some of the routines and rituals of my life. Some of the things I'm most excited for are to see my dog Hank, time in the morning to sit with some tea and the words of a good book, the opportunity to work on some projects like building the much procrstenated pizza oven, and moments spent with friends and family.
Practicing Chimney Techniques |
Quito North Dump |
Cayambe...last climb? |
The past week much of Quito has been closed as Carnival and the start of the Lenten season begins. I've not observed Lent in several years, but am looking forward to it this year as a time to reorder and renew aspects of my life. C.S. Lewis writes, "By valuing too highly a subordinate good we...come near to losing that good itself." I don't find much in my life that I want to leave behind, but that I want to learn to appreciate. I find it interesting that Lewis also draws attention to the observation that there as many Feasts in the Christian calendar as Fasts. I suppose abstaining from certain goods during Lent is partly to reorder our lives and to be able to enjoy those goods of which we are abstaining in their ordinate place.
I've spent nearly every day for the past eleven weeks with my good friend Ben Speicher. Our conversations have centered on the usual. Girls, God and climbing. The following quote reminds me of much of our conversations.
Ben and Myself at a Liga game |
You can read the full article here.
A Poem I'd like to memorize:
i am a little church(no great cathedral)
far from the splendor and squalor of hurrying cities
-i do not worry if briefer days grow briefest,
i am not sorry when sun and rain make april
my life is the life of the reaper and the sower;
my prayers are prayers of earth's own clumsily striving
(finding and losing and laughing and crying)children
whose any sadness or joy is my grief or my gladness
around me surges a miracle of unceasing
birth and glory and death and resurrection:
over my sleeping self float flaming symbols
of hope,and i wake to a perfect patience of mountains
i am a little church(far from the frantic
world with its rapture and anguish)at peace with nature
-i do not worry if longer nights grow longest;
i am not sorry when silence becomes singing
winter by spring,i lift my diminutive spire to
merciful Him Whose only now is forever:
standing erect in the deathless truth of His presence
(welcoming humbly His light and proudly His darkness)
e.e. cummings
And a song I'd like to play:
Ramblin' Jack Elliot
Ah, Bryce! I like your blog. Call me sometime when you return.
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