copyright 2009 Sara Dilliplane
A few weekends ago I was in Syracuse, New York, for the fourth of July. As the sun set, we saw the Syracuse Symphony Orchestra perform on the old fairgrounds followed by a beautiful display of fireworks. There’s something about the marriage of music and those brilliant sparks of colored light that always gives me goosebumps!

We also took advantage of the rare non-rainy day (the Northeast is having the rainiest summer) to explore the trails around Beaver Lake, a nature preserve in the farming area just outside of Syracuse. Halfway through the Bog Trail, we came across these two water snakes, sunning themselves near some rocks.
all images copyright 2009 Sara Dilliplane
We sat and watched them for at least 10 minutes: the one on the rock didn’t budge a millimeter, but the one in the water gradually edged closer to the rock so imperceptibly slow, you hardly noticed him moving. Then the two snakes stayed locked in a staring contest, motionless, yet clearly in deep conversation.
Later, we came across this clearing in the woods where a few tired walkers sat resting on the fallen pine trees. In the afternoon light, the forest floor of pine needles looked lavender and rose-colored…

Further up ahead, my boyfriend spotted a doe and her two fawns, which unfortunately I missed — I was facing the opposite direction drawing the clouds over Beaver Lake:

We kept looking for the deer on our way back to the main gate, but they had disappeared into the forest.

On a recent trip to Philadelphia, I stood in front of Independence Hall and was struck by how small it looked next to the modern city buildings rising up around it. But stand in front if it for a while and it grows right before your eyes!  I imagined the voices of John Adams, Jefferson, Washington, Hamilton, all echoing inside this very building. I could hear their words bouncing off the bricks, the original cobblestones lining the street, the debate that led to drafting of our famous Declaration and the birth of our country.

I keep thinking of the word “declaration,” what it meant in those pre-Revolutionary War days, what it still means.  A declaration: explanation, illumination, storytelling. The Declaration of Independence was an explanation of why the Continental Congress voted for autonomy; it was a compass, providing a map for our fledgling country. It told the story of what was to come.
When Abigail Adams moved into the half-finished White House on Pennsylvania Avenue, she watched the team of slaves work during the cold Northeast months to build a symbol of independence.  She saw the irony in a War for Independence fought by a country still dependent on slavery. But she could envision a time when the first black president would move his family into that very architectural symbol.

America is one gigantic art project– a messy, wonderful, and irreplaceable work in progress.

Philadelphia, PA