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Boxing Day, The Work of Christmas Begins.

Rich McClear

When the song of the angel is stilled, When the star in the sky is gone, When the Kings and Princes are home, When the shepherds are back with their flocks The real work of Christmas begins. To find the lost To heal the broken To feed the hungry To release the prisoners To rebuild the nations To bring peace among brothers To make music in the heart. -An unattributed Quaker quoted by Gordon Bok Continue reading Boxing Day, The Work of Christmas Begins.

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Rila Monastery, Bulgaria, 1997

Rich McClear

These pictures are faded.  We scanned them to put on this website.   March 1997 There are fine monasteries, isolated in the mountains, and of only passing interest to the Turks, so they remain.  We went to Rila.  It is a four story arcaded and fortified place with fine frescos that have the faces of donors to the monastery depicted as saints, and demons.  I don’t know if the placement has anything to do with the size of the donation.  While we happily spent hours in the monastery on one fine Sunday, it is the mountains rising around it that … Continue reading Rila Monastery, Bulgaria, 1997

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Sighnaghi, Georgia

Rich McClear

Sighnaghi, with only 2,100 people, is a mountain top architectural gem.  Its name comes from the word siginak, Turkish for “shelter.”  It was built in the 18th century as a fortified town on the frontiers of Moslem Azerbaijan and Dagestan.  It main industries are wine making, carpet making and, now, tourism.  The town is circled by about 4.5 kilometers of wall with 23 defensive towers.  The wall winds around the mountain side.  I walked along the top for about a half a kilometer between several of the towers with great views of vineyards running down the mountain. Continue reading Sighnaghi, Georgia

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Sitting by my window, June, 2013

Rich McClear

One of the great joys being home in June is just sitting by my window and watching.  Ships pull into my front yard, fish start jumping and the eagles come in for the kill, fishermen make their evening set outside my window, storms roll in, as does the fog.  In the morning we often hear the fog horns of a ship making for anchor.  This is an active months, the Fine Arts Camp, the Music Festival, boats to ride, hikes to take, meals with friends, but I always leave enough time to sit by my window and watch.  I have … Continue reading Sitting by my window, June, 2013