Somewhere South of North
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A Canadian couple enjoy the Atlantic coast in Hollywood Beach, Florida, February 2008
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Spring Water Sanctuary
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A small school of fish in the crystal clear waters of Manatee Springs, February 2008
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Pointing
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A "Fingernail Plant" growing in northern Florida
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Priorities

I've tried to think of a caption for this photo, but I can't seem to improve upon the messages on the signs...
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Blogging was an attempt at recording who I am, what matters to me, and some of the experiences that have shaped me: a sort of journal that I hoped my kids and grandson might someday look at. I wanted them to discover that I was more (I hoped) than simply "Mom" or "Grandma". I never anticipated readers, nor did I realize how much time and energy can go into being the member of a blogging community.

Like the bumper sticker says, SHIT HAPPENS. Or in my case, BLOGGING HAPPENED. Blame it on Dirk, for he was the first "stranger" to wander in here and decide that a wizened wizard might be worth visiting now and then. I followed his tracks out of the forest and began visiting some of his friends, others came here, and soon the overlapping circles caused what had been a secret path to turn well-trodden.

I met a lot of interesting people. In what I began calling "Bloggerville" there live funny folks, creative writers, artists, thoughtful people, those wrestling with enormous demons, those living unusual, wonderful, admirable lives, and just plain "everyday folks". So many of you "givers" have visited my blog, left kind comments, good advice, encouragement or greetings. I began spending more and more time trying to behave in kind, and although my trips to your sites were almost always rewarding, I never felt I could keep up with being a good community member and also live the life that matters to me in the real world.

My site meter indicates that traffic has fallen off at WizenedWizard.blogspot.com, and maybe that's a very good thing. Perhaps now I can return to my original intent, which was simply to post photos, stories or an occasional poem - just for me and maybe someday for my kids and grandson. Of course I will always be pleased to find comments from any of you who might still be reading this, but I shall be the hermit, the wizard at the end of the trail through the woods, incomunicado.
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