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Home 2018-01-19T11:38:59+00:00

You Can Strive to Be the World’s Best

In the 1850s the Hudson River School painters painted in the Adirondack Mountains of upstate New York — and were accused of exaggerating the colors of the sunsets. Yet living here and experiencing the sunsets each night, I can testify that the colors are so brilliant, so vibrant, that no matter how brightly or brilliantly they may have been painted, they could not touch the colors in the sky.

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You Need Summer Oxygen

I arrived on the mist-covered wooden dock this morning as the sun was coming up, just peeking over the horizon. Long warm rays are penetrating cool layers of fog. The mountain is barely visible, and the green highlights of tall pines are shining through the mist. Just as I sat down, I could hear the splashing of baby loon wings beating against the water. Accompanied by loon cries of encouragement from mom and dad, the little loons flap forward about 30 feet, trying to take off but not yet getting airborne. They’ve been trying over and over, and soon those babies will be ready to fly south.

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The Last Sunday in July

On most mornings around here in the Adirondacks, if you get up early enough, there is a light fog on the lake that doesn’t lift until the sun makes its presence known. On a drizzly morning like today, the fog is thicker, which makes for beautiful photographs and paintings. After this, if there is time, I may attempt one or the other.

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When Change Is Hard But Good

Walking out on the dock last night, it was pitch black. There was not so much as a ripple in the water; it was still as glass. I’ve never seen a darker sky anywhere, for here in the middle of the wilderness, we’re 25 miles from the nearest small town and hundreds of miles from light-polluted big cities. The sky was littered with stars. Not just a few, but thousands were visible, and I could see a depth to the night sky I’ve never before noticed. In the distance, just above the silhouette of the mountain, is a small bright blood-orange ball they call Mars.

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Your True Purpose

This morning as I stepped on to the dark brown wooden dock, I jumped a bit from the heat on my bare feet and carefully tiptoed my way to my bright red Adirondack chair overlooking the lake. A warm blue color reflects the humidity in the air, like looking through layers of glass, making the distant mountain look even farther away.

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The First Step to Changing the World

Today is different. Unlike so many Sunday mornings, when I awaken and visit the back porch or the dock with my steaming hot java, this morning my view is of a small room with gray walls decorated by black-and-white photographs. I’m sitting in a swivel chair, surrounded by a microwave, a phone, a television, and a little two-cup machine to make my coffee. My teen boys sleep deeply, one in one of the two double beds, one on the pull-out couch. The sound of my fingers on the keyboard does not seem to be enough to awaken them.

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Your Unintended Influence on Others

If you listen closely, everything has a rhythm. This morning I hear the up-and-down rub of a boat tied to a dock, the lapping of the water, the high-pitched tweeting of distant birds, and the rumble of a float plane flying over, seeking a place to land … all to the same beat.

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Perfect and Imperfect Fathers

The morning is still. Glass-like reflections of the yellow sky, the purple clouds, and the distant gray mountain are perfect, not so much as a ripple in the water. Crisp, fresh air, so pure there is no description, fills my lungs. Coffee on the dock at this Adirondack lake is among my favorite things.

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A Bountiful Harvest

A deep breath fills my lungs with the smell of pine. As I sit on the dock in a bright red Adirondack chair, the water is perfectly still and reflecting the puffy pink clouds above, the distant purple mountain, and the rich greens.

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How Dreams Come True

Walking in my pajamas from the nice cool house outside to the porch, the heat unexpectedly smacks my face. The buzz of the overworked air conditioner compressor drowns out the sounds of birds, yet the bugs’ buzzing is drowning out the compressor. In the distance, the rap of a hammer — someone is up early, working on their dream home.

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Bring Depth to Your Life

A blanket of fast-moving Prussian blue clouds hovers over the land, with bits of Creamsicle-colored sunlight peeking through. A soft, muted rustle of wind makes the treetops of my scrub oaks sway ever so slightly. Then there is a low, peaceful roar as wind rushes between branches. The little family of squirrels chirrups as if to say, “Take cover, rain is coming! Get OUT of those trees, kids!” Suddenly the wind picks up to a true roar, the trees bending as a raptor glides overhead, its wings spread wide. Soon my safe, covered corner of the back porch on this old house will keep me dry as storm-watching, one of my favorite porch sports, begins. Nothing quite so poetic exists in my little world as the security of my dry little corner as chaos comes from the skies above.

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Eric Rhoads
Entrepreneur, writer, artist, marketer, and speaker.
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