Hands at Rest

August 9, 2010

Dad's hands at rest

“Rest is the sweet sauce of labor.”
     — Plutarch

Hands are so expressive.  My dad’s hands are a map of his life as a farmer and laboring man.  No stranger to hammers, grease guns, handles of pails, butchering knives, seeds and dirt.  They hold the wisdom of years.

I love looking at my father’s hands.  I captured them at a well-earned moment of rest.  

“And if, in the changing phases of man’s life
I fall in sickness and in misery
my wrists seem broken and my heart seems dead
and strength is gone, and my life
is only the leavings of a life:

and still, among it all, snatches of lovely oblivion, and snatches
of renewal
odd, wintry flowers upon the withered stem, yet new, strange flowers
such as my life has not brought forth before, new blossoms of me

then I must know that still
I am in the hands of the unknown God,
he is breaking me down to his own oblivion
to send me forth on a new morning, a new man.” 
     — from “Shadows” by D. H. Lawrence

3 Responses to “Hands at Rest”


  1. Your thoughts captured my heart. Love this! Thank you for sharing!


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