The approach of Autumn

To be honest,  Fall is one of my favourite seasons. I was born and lived in California till I was 14 years old before moving to Vancouver Island with my folks, epochs ago. In California the days were, and I venture to assume are still, warm with regularly clear skies for most of the year. If you wanted to see snow you went to Big Bear or Lake Tahoe. I lived in Huntington Beach.

The trees on our streets never dropped a leaf. If it did the tree was probably dying. And flowers seem to continually bloom. The rare occurrence when rain fell in southern California, and after the skies cleared, I would only then notice clean, clear air. The smog would be rinsed from the skyline for a short while. I could see the details on Saddleback, the highest mountain peaks in the Santa Ana Mountain range. Better still, sometimes I could even see the crown of Mount Shasta poking up on the horizon from Northern California.

When I moved to Vancouver Island in the summer of 1973 I was completely blissed out when my first autumn came and the leaves changed colour and let loose on the wind, carpeting the roads and yards. The smell of autumn was a new thing for me. Rich and voluptuous, and layered. Cool fresh mornings and burnished evenings, blustery days with gusting winds. Love it.

And as autumn deepens in to November and December I’m loving it still.  If there is a snowfall in the mix, then I’m excited and invigorated by it. Even when I had to commute to work by boat, then car. Snow fall here is a novel happening. It might only last a week or two, so even a die hard from Ontario has no grounds for complaint. But sometimes they still do. I’m naming no one. Bob.

January is another story.

Although I just got home not long ago from a busy summer, in another week I will be making one more drive back to Salmon Arm to get together with family for Thanksgiving and to celebrate my granddaughter Saylor’s second birthday. Then life will come down to a simmer when I get back. Well, I would say rather, life will turn inward. For me, I have writing I want to – need to do, and also get to work on some painting in the studio I have yet to fully engage in. It sits downstairs waiting.

Autumn is the perfect time for these kinds of things.

 

 

 

Cloud series

Kimberley,BC 2017

I have a fascination with clouds, especially when chem trails are involved. While yes there is the sinister controversy around them, graphically they inspire me artistically. Abstracts in air kind of thing, the soft amorphous forms in juxtaposition with the precise clear linear aspects.

 

Novembers last day, a stroll through the park

There is only a narrow watery gap that flows between my island home and an 800 acre island Provincial Park which come autumn is virtually uninhabited. The campers have all gone, the boaters have secured their vessels in the marinas for another year. The only access is by water and although our little ferry will bring you from town to the Park for a fee, few people take the time. It amazes me that few people even know about it,  local residents of Vancouver Island included.

So this time of year, it’s all mine to wander.

This park is rich in history with the Coast Salish or Snuneymuxw First Nation, being a place where they came to mend the heart when in mourning, collect medicinal herbs and fish herring.

A good life, before us. Before it was ripped apart for coal and stone, and before CPR ships brought floods of elites to dance in the pavilion.

The park has, since a few years ago, been returned to the First Nation, under their rightful stewardship.

It’s mending its heart.

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The Need to Vacate the Premises

A day in the sun

On Saturday my sister, her husband and I planned to go kayaking, they have their own and I would rent one, so Saturday morning I called the outlet only to be answered with a recorded message that they are closed for the season.

-C’mon, it’s April already! Didn’t expect that.

I was really looking forward to this, I needed this! A mini adventure, a break from my modus operandi but now that activity dashed I found myself at home with the choice of how I should spend my day, which ironically left me with indecision.

I had been ready for a great day of paddling. It was like being ready to pop a piece of white chocolate in your mouth but it’s white cheddar, tasty yes, but startling to your taste buds. So I’m eating white cheddar.

I wanted to be outside in this gorgeous sunny day, but thought I should maybe spend time at home while I have the chance since I’ve been in constant motion lately, so ok I can immerse myself into my current read in the back yard, find a patch of sun in my predominately shady yard and tuck in. Good.

Not good. My next door neighbor has fired up his chainsaw. So back in. Pace around a bit, thinking.

Hmmm, I guess I could wash the windows, or wash the pollen off the deck or work in the yard, but I really didn’t want to do anything like work today – wait, he’s stopped- alright, step outside- uh, nope, on again. This in an’ out went on a few more times until I decided leaving was the more sane alternative. My husband took the car to work yes, but I had the boat and fortunate to have a big provincial park, which is also an island, right next to me -this is where I would find my peaceful escape.

And I did. I got lots of sunshine and luscious uninterrupted reading time with a tremendous view of the water. To get out and away was just what was needed. Most times it’s the only way to ensure that getting sucked into doing obligatory tasks doesn’t overtake ones need for R&R.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Don’t fence me in

I have a grinding urge to run away.  Unhitch, unload, unlatch – and run. I crave to dissolve, disengage, dismiss, and dismantle. Shake it all lose.

And where would I want to carry this out? Oddly, I suppose, it’s not Mexico or the coast of Croatia, or the Santiago de Compostela – well actually that last one is definitely a strong desire of mine, but no right now the place is Val Marie, Saskatchewan. More accurately, the Grasslands. Humble, unassuming, and utterly breathtaking to me.

Photo courtesy of the internet
Glacial erratics on land within the proposed boundary of Grasslands National Park (West Block), Saskatchewan, Canada

Photo courtesy of internet

5 years ago, stopping in for a day on one of our drives to Ontario, this place immediately  wheedled its way under my skin. And I return to it in my heart often.

I suppose it must be the limitless sky, somehow perhaps symbolic of freedom, openness, expansion. Feeling as I am at the moment, perhaps all the things I perceive are missing currently in my day to day.

This is where I would wish to set up camp for an entire summer. All unnecessary accouterments stripped away. Just me and that big ‘ol sky all day and a blue-black dome filled with stars all night.

Okay, Bob can come too.

 

 

 

Fallen Angel

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I looked out the window to my backyard and noticed my Garden Angel had become liberated from the fence she hung upon.

To hell with it, she might have said, I just have to smell that lavender bush.

I totally empathize.