FSO - Things that Barry made us think of

Barry, a founding member of the Friday My Town Shoot Outs, is gone.  Good fortune lead me to discover his blog An Explorer's View of Life early in my blogging life.  He immediately became an inspiration. 

Although our Friday Shoot Outs are primarily about photography, I remember Barry more for his writing, his stories about his adventures with his beloved dog, Lindsay.  That man sure knew how to tell a story! 

It has been an honour to walk alongside him and his lovely wife, Linda through his illness, to learn from his bravery, to be touched by his loving spirit.   

Thank you, Nan for suggesting this topic.  We all loved Barry, we all want to honour his memory.

I'm sure there will be as many interpretations of this topic as there are posts.  We each have our own way of expressing grief.  It's not something I am good at, it's something I am very private about.

My grand-daughter, Georgia and I often fancy ourselves as intrepid explorers, so yesterday afternoon we set out to explore around the farm where I am housesitting, me with camera in hand and thoughts on Barry.

We came to a creek crossing.  An "interesting" bridge had been built to allow access to the other side when the water is too deep for a vehicle.  I guess this bridge is used by a farm bike but there's no way I would attempt it.  Sometimes the paths we are forced to take are not as safe and secure as we would choose.  I saw the bridge as the path Barry's life took.  His treatment took him along a path that may have restored him to health.  Instead it was a rough path which lead him to the other side.

Georgia very cautiously crosses the bridge.

We looked down at the water rushing by under our feet.  For the moment we are safe from the turbulent waters.

A little kingfisher sitting on a power line reminded me of how Barry had flown in his very last post.  His spirit is now free.

Barry had a quote from T. S. Eliot on his blog.  I'd like to end with another from the same source:

“You do not know how much they mean to me, my friends, and how, how rare and strange it is, to find in a life composed so much of odds and ends… to find a friend who has these qualities, who has, and gives those qualities upon which friendship lives. How much it means that I say this to you -without these friendships - life, what cauchemar!”