dandelion days

2009-11-04T18:22:00.002-05:00

Topic: Climate Change

2009-10-15T17:14:00.013-04:00

The geese are gathering in the skies. A curtain of dusk draws upon day's end and the air is brisk with chilled promise of frost. I sit here alone in my room wrapped in the desire to contribute to Blog Action Day. Topic: Climate Change.

I listen. I read. I discuss. I rant. I make small changes that add up to something, I hope. Some thing. Some thing that will favourably alter the path of climate change. Some thing that will keep us, our homes, our way of life, safe from harm. Is that not the message enshrouded in our global clamour? Green jobs will save us. Green energy will save us. Green technology, yes, green technology will save us. Switch light bulbs. Drive electric. Save us from climate change.

I know what I'd think if I stumbled upon these words. She doesn't get it. She doesn't believe. Ah, but I do. The change is real. The ice is melting. Our leaders are lagging behind and greed for dirty oil is rampant.

What I'd like to contribute today is a thought that can only be heard by heart, in silence. Listen. The geese are gathering in the skies. Change is afoot. Lean into the change and become better at walking softly on the Earth. Sit in the circle of local community, care for one another, share your talents and live simply. Rise up above the marketing of climate change and live small, live joyfully, live consciously.

The Beckoning of Lovely

2008-11-20T14:29:00.000-05:00

A Stroke of Insight

2008-04-12T19:31:00.004-04:00

Presented by: TED - Ideas Worth Spreading

2008-04-07T22:58:00.016-04:00

pink innocence

And Then I Fell Silent

2008-04-07T22:35:00.003-04:00

There's a hush that comes with healing loss... and in the heart-comfort of that hush, a retreat to inner sanctum cradles tender hope of a new day. Perhaps a new day is on my horizon... and so I begin to write. Here, I return to friends I have not forgotten.

.

2006-09-07T01:15:00.000-04:00

One Red Paperclip

2006-09-04T13:53:00.000-04:00

Once you make a decision, the universe conspires to make it happen. (Ralph Waldo Emerson)

There are stories that just make one's heart sing and Kyle MacDonald's inspired journey of the One Red Paperclip has mine joy-dancing to the beat of a grand singsong. Are your toes tappin'?

2006-08-08T11:18:00.002-04:00

be still and listen

Mundo Uno

2006-08-08T11:12:00.000-04:00

Encourage Peace. Please visit Mundo Uno and share your heart with the world.

2006-06-06T00:43:00.002-04:00

mikey baked it

Unfolding

2006-06-06T00:06:00.000-04:00

This is the hour of my birth ~ 12:06 on the sixth day of the sixth month. I am sitting alone... here... in the midnight still. Hushed calm, inked skies and wandering whispers of time unfolding. I feel the embrace of those gone before me and I am warmed, to this day, by their patient love. I was blessed to be born on my Grandpa's birthday. He was a kind and gentle soul. His life sang of good cheer and sweet kisses and we always celebrated together.

G'night Papa ~

2006-05-06T12:31:00.001-04:00

sigh... at last

i carry your heart with me

2006-04-15T00:15:00.000-04:00

i carry your heart with me
by e e cummings

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart)

i am never without it (anywhere i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done by only me is your doing, my darling)

i fear not fate (for you are my fate, my sweet)

i want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true) and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

2006-03-23T22:11:00.001-05:00

beaver pond thaw

Abyss of Lost

2006-03-23T22:05:00.000-05:00

dark pit stank of burrowed sorrow
draws heart's gaze from all that's sweet
no hope or ray of joy to borrow
the murk of past cements soul's feet

2006-03-11T20:34:00.001-05:00

paved over

A Crack in the Asphalt

2006-03-11T19:52:00.000-05:00

I dream of lush, forested cities with sweet public spaces and meandering walking trails; vibrant community gardens and nimble-fingered sewing guilds; children skipping double-dutch and men pedalling bikes. I dream of sparkling lakes, blue skies and soft rain; tart red apples and fiddlehead greens. I dream of laughter and song, kind deeds and honour.

Together, we dream the future.

2006-02-26T22:24:00.001-05:00

farmer's market roses

Witness

2006-02-26T21:26:00.000-05:00

Jessie told me she chose happiness. Thirty-nine years ago. She was sorting her husband's papers when the words of a poet fluttered to the floor.

He drew a circle that shut me out––
Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout.
But Love and I had the wit to win:
We drew a circle that took him in.
Edwin Markham (1852-1940)

Jesse forgave him for taking his life. She erased the image of him floating in the water below the falls. And, at ninety-two, her countenance shines as she recalls his beauty.

2006-02-20T21:01:00.001-05:00

terrapi sky

***
image courtesy of Camp TerraPi, Baviaanskloof Wilderness, South Africa

Cape Mountain Leopard Project

2006-02-20T20:08:00.000-05:00

I received an important request from Harry Bateman, a dear wiki friend of mine living in South Africa, regarding a project near to his heart and I thought I'd seed it to the winds of kind fortune. Please follow the document link to read Harry's compelling vision for the project.

Dear friends and family,

Saskia, Emily and myself have settled in well in the mountains of the Baviaanskloof. Our camp TerraPi is functioning as a centre for environmental awareness and wilderness connection and we facilitate numerous excursions into the mountains, enhancing peoples perception of our natural word and growing the love for the great outdoors and its inhabitants.

Countless opportunities present itself for us to become involved in conservation orientated work by using TerraPi as a base for environmental awareness and education and it is a blessing to be given responsibility in such a wonderful natural environment.

Our volunteer project has been structured and nears implementation, and our environmental rehabilitation efforts educate the public on the threat of invasive vegetation and possible solutions to combat this growing problem.

There is however another facet of conservation that desires our immediate attention, and that is the hunting of Leopard bordering the world heritage site, the Baviaanskloof wilderness area. I have included this link to a document composed by myself to try and explain what is happening and my wish to become involved in a more practical sense and my need of some support. Please take the time to read the document and forward it on to people whom you might think able to contribute in any way whatsoever.

Please help us protect a threatened species that live on our land and in the wilderness by forwarding this valuable mail to people you might know - who can help. Donors will be treated to a free visit at TerraPi with a Leopard tracking experience on the Red Tiger Ranch, home of the Red Tiger - The Cape Mountain Leopard.

Yours sincerely,

Harry Bateman

www.terrapi.org

info@terrapi.org

* image courtesy of Camp TerraPi, Baviaanskloof Wilderness, South Africa

2006-02-13T22:48:00.001-05:00

blind alley

The Emperor's New Clothes

2006-02-13T21:35:00.000-05:00

First they cleared the land. The trees fell, the faeries fled, the sun still shone. Bulldozers dug and piled and shovelled the sweet forest loam for days on end and the earthmovers drove their dump-truck treasure away to a far unknown.

Next they staked their designer-jean slogans into the sun-baked clay. Stark against the naked horizon, the banners with butterfly graphics announced: Bronte Creek: Oakville’s Natural Neighbourhood. Bronte Creek: Grand Chateau Inspired Designs. Bronte Creek: Perfectly Integrated with Nature.

Perfectly. Integrated. With. Nature.

Then, up they went, the cookie-cutter chateaus side-by-side-by-side with their grass patch lawns and their lonely stick-twig trees. Numbered lots labelled ‘Estate Homes’ — bought at high digit prices by wedding cake couples with their cell-phoned children and their golden doodle dogs — sold like candy floss at a May Day fair.

Perhaps fringed by a thin thicket of trees... perhaps bordered by a creek ravine... perhaps neighboured by a provincial park with campsites and trails and nature guides... perhaps this grants the illusion weight yet all I can feel is despair at such bullshit bravado.

2006-02-09T23:11:00.001-05:00

bouquet

2006-02-07T19:36:00.001-05:00

misted lake frosted sunrise

Peace in our Lifetime

2006-02-07T18:55:00.001-05:00

We are One Mind.
We are One Heart.
One in Love and Light.

To share in a lovely moment, please click here.

2005-12-06T22:58:00.001-05:00

side glance

Unforgiven

2005-12-06T22:00:00.000-05:00

Abashed at her orange indignity, I followed her. I wanted to ask, "What mark do they know you by? Ownership, fertility, month-to-slaughter?" She kept her gaze low and away, seemingly disinterested. I took a step closer. I longed to know, to declare my heart-held esteem, to set us free. She barely turned and, with innate poise and dignity, side-glance dismissed me.

2005-11-24T16:06:00.001-05:00

pier One

Eternity Knocks

2005-11-24T15:46:00.000-05:00

Some change is expected. Seasons, aging, perspective, coins. Night, tide, weather, moon. Mood, grieving, laughter, shift. Expected. Within context of experience, within boundary of knowledge.

Now, looming on the edge of awareness, a daybreak on the edge of first morning’s light - appears possible - a change unexpected. A glimmer of anticipation sparks. What if all that i have known to be true is Change?

O, swear not by the moon, the fickle moon, theinconstant moon, that monthly changes in her circle orb, lest that thy love prove likewise variable. (Shakespeare)

The unknowable, the unchangeable. Beyond imagination. Beyond expected. Beckons.

2005-11-22T01:23:00.001-05:00

hibiscus

Mantle of Dreams

2005-11-22T00:48:00.000-05:00

Winter must be setting in. At last. I love the quiet shelter of the dark, cold nights. Fertile soil is this time of the soul... a time to spin dreams of silk and satin and faerie tale wings. Shhhh ~ listen ~ the Knock at the Duir calls ~

2005-11-01T14:32:00.001-05:00

open skies

An Invitation

2005-11-01T14:15:00.000-05:00

I've been a bit pre-occupied lately writing about Oil Depletion over on the Web-of-Life wiki. I've yet to write about the beauty I've come to see in it.... but I will :)

If you feel so inclined to read it, I would really appreciate your feedback. I'm curious to know what you think about the potentiality that lies in ' running out of oil '.

2005-10-12T16:42:00.001-04:00

angel girl

Surrender

2005-10-12T15:45:00.000-04:00

I was with her when she drew her last, gasping breath. Until the end, she elegantly hung on to life with the same quiet strength that commanded her days. An honour, there is great beauty in its trusted intimacy, to be present at the death of a beloved companion. My hand rested gently on her shoulder as the tip of her tail made one final, frantic quiver.

2005-10-05T23:58:00.001-04:00

lingering

The Peace Train

2005-10-05T23:05:00.000-04:00

I sailed into the city on the Go Train. I like to mosey so I arrived at the station early and strolled along to the end of the platform past the usual waiting area. When the double-decked carriage, painted green and white, pulled up along the tracks and skreeeeked (as only a train can) to a stop, the automatic door swished opened and I climbed aboard. I sat down on one of the blue cushioned benches and cozied myself. I love travelling by train.

A pleasant looking woman sat an airy distance away from me across a wide, centre aisle. She was gripping a book close to her face, intently reading the last pages of an apparent spellbinder. Nearby, an abandoned newspaper was haphazardly piled on the floor and I went over to retrieve it. As I bent down, the woman looked up and smiled a hello my way. I smiled back, made the casual remark, "May as well put it to good use", gave a friendly nod, and returned to my seat with paper in hand. In that instant, I was sure she was on her way to the same engagement I was. I thought to ask but let it go when I saw she had quickly resumed reading.

Not really in the mood for news, I half-glanced through the paper a page or two at a time, folded it up and placed it neatly on the seat beside me. A young family with toddler and baby in tow, rolled their stroller into position and parked themselves and all their gear in the seats behind the Book Lady. Another young family entered the train through a second door. Each parent carefully, yet firmly, held a hand of the sweet little pre-schooler who walked between them. They took seats side-by-side, and their daughter cuddled up nicely on mama’s lap.

Seconds before the train was to depart, an aging woman with a youthful stride came bouncing into the car and sat across from me in the seat paired with mine. Grinning, we greeted each other as seating partners do and she then leaned forward, picked up the paper and settled in.

A bubbling festivity filled the air. Most of the travellers were on their way to a day at the Ex and the joyful anticipation was palatable. The children were wiggle-toes excited. The one little girl (seated behind Book Lady) chattered away in English while the other little girl (now seated between her parents) chattered away in Mandarin (or perhaps Cantonese). To engage her daughter’s attention, the english-speaking mother began to sing the nursery song, ‘Head, Toes, Eyes and Nose’ - a catchy silly song with hand actions. Each time, the song finished with a giggle before it started all over again and I found myself silently joining in, smiling along.

All the while, I was watching the other little girl. She now sat poker-straight, straining to hear the distant voices. Her eyes grew wide with recognition and, suddenly, mid-song she began to sing too - every other word in a wee tentative voice until her confidence grew to full swing pitch. Her parents glanced at each other in surprise and then beamed with delight.

In this exquisite moment, riding the train, I danced the light of sweet innocence.

2005-09-27T14:01:00.001-04:00

my mother's hands

Wonder

2005-09-27T13:52:00.000-04:00

I watch her pause along the trail, collecting little bits of textured colour. Standing whisper still, she wears the quiet of soft afternoon with inspired ease. A warm familiarity washes over me. How often I've seen my mother silently dance with her magical muse. I wonder if she knows how beautiful she is.

.

2005-09-26T21:47:00.000-04:00

2005-09-21T23:21:00.001-04:00

inukshuk

One is the Sun

2005-09-21T23:19:00.000-04:00

Kristine Robin writes:

After I visited Prophecy Rock on the Hopi reservation, I was inspired by one of their prophecies which talks about the choice we have to either live in balance with nature or risk destruction of civilisation as we know it.

Kristine Robin stirs the soul. Listen to her song!

2005-09-07T01:30:00.001-04:00

wings of light

Children in the Wind

2005-09-07T01:13:00.000-04:00

A Mother's Prayer

I pray you'll be my eyes
And watch her where she goes
And help her to be wise
Help me to let go

Every mother's prayer
Every child knows
Lead her to a place
Guide her with your grace
To a place where she'll be safe

I pray she finds your light
And holds it in her heart
As darkness falls each night
Remind her where you are

Every mother's prayer
Every child knows
Need to find a place
Guide her to a place
Give her faith so she'll be safe

Lead her to a place
Guide her with your grace
To a place where she'll be safe

Song by: Celine Dion

2005-08-22T02:19:00.001-04:00

izzy dolls

Dare a Peace Perspective

2005-08-22T01:38:00.000-04:00

Tamar, over at In and Out of Confidence, has sparked a brilliant resonance of hope in her post discussion, Evacuation from Gaza. In praising the Israeli troops for their compassionate response to the distraught citizens being evacuated from their homes, the discussion muses about a 'Hugging Army' and what kind of training would be required.

Spiritual Activism:
G8 Summit - Findhorn Community Members Prepare to Take Action
"In the last few weeks leading up to the G8 Summit in Scotland in early July, a group of Findhorn community members has been meeting to explore ways in which to engage in spiritually-grounded political action. Here, David McNamara, who has been key in helping to hold the focus, shares some of the plans and how you can support this potentially life-altering and globally historical event."

Findhorn Eco Warriors Return Home from G8 Activist Events
"Spiritual activism is a new form of engagement for many of the Findhorn community members who participated in the events; however, spreading love and radiating light are two things that come naturally and which proved to be most needed during intense moments both in the ecovillage itself and in the direct actions. Presence of mind, stillness, alignment with spirit, and groundedness were the hallmarks needed to carry us safely and successfully through the week."

The Izzy Doll Delights Children of War-Torn Regions:
"Master Corporal Mark Isfeld (a Canadian Peacekeeping Hero) was a combat engineer who served in three UN peace missions before losing his life in a landmine explosion in Croatia in 1994. Mark was known for giving children in war-torn regions handmade dolls that his mother, Carol Isfeld, had crocheted out of scrap wool, nicknamed ‘Izzy Dolls'. He handed out the Izzy Dolls to bring a little happiness and hope to the children in war torn areas. After his tragic death, the story of Mark's compassion toward the children began to spread and thousands of these dolls began to flood in from people all across Canada who decided to make dolls for other Canadian soldiers to give away overseas."

The Hugger Busker from Montreal
"A smile and a firm but gentle demeanor can solve many problems. I am no longer responding to aggression with aggression, sarcasm with sarcasm. It is comforting to recognize the changes in one's self as one evolves into a more whole individual. I look forward to the day when facing adversity with equanimity and compassion is a natural extension of my self."(Excerpt from The Hugger Busker's Journal)

2005-07-27T21:29:00.001-04:00

hacked

Cenotaph for Sanity

2005-07-27T21:18:00.000-04:00

Alas, poor Tree I knew him well. Full branched, handsome, sweet fir-coned, he stood forty years tall. He was home to nesting songbirds and street-wise squirrels. He offered shade, cool shade, on a sun drenched day and oh, to catch his scent upon the wind was to sigh for. Yet, one day, the man-across-the-street who plays piano chopped him down; and, upon his stump, the man-across-the-street who loves to garden placed a pretty pot of pink petunias adorned by a plastic winged ornament with a long black beak.

I cry for Tree and Songbird and Squirrel. I cry for Wind and Sun and Me.

2005-07-17T22:40:00.001-04:00

ice dreams

Awe for the Scent of a Rose

2005-07-17T22:05:00.000-04:00

I so longed for a breath of fresh air. All week we've been under siege. Blistering heat and stifling humidity combined with filthy, grey smog is nothing short of horrid. No comfort to be found from the sickening stench of our disregard. When will we wake up?

Angel of Surrender
The ability to be with what is going on rather than remaining preoccupied with what might, should or could happen. Let go of the need to manage life and deepen into the peace of acceptance. (Innerlinks)

2005-07-14T21:26:00.001-04:00

hooked up

ICD

2005-07-14T21:20:00.000-04:00

another lap
around the track
of busy body mending
cancer done
now heart unsung
calls for further tending

2005-07-05T23:08:00.001-04:00

thanks for the fish

Radiate

2005-07-05T15:54:00.000-04:00

The course of treatment finished today. Weak and exhausted, he confided, "I might not make it back, Pats."

"You've done better than most," his nurse confirmed. "You'll be feeling fine in a month's time," his doctor assured. They've given him nothing but straight talk and encouragement, small talk and laughter. They've listened to all his fears and answered every question with compassionate action. They've played his favourite music while they set up and aimed. They've talked of pets and catnip and shared stories of home and away.

Thank you Joyce and Patti, Sarah and Maria, Dr. Lukka and all. Thank you for caring for my father these past eight weeks.

I had never painted the notion, cancer clinic, in rainbow-shades of kind regard until now.

2005-06-30T16:28:00.001-04:00

twenty-five years

Set Sail

2005-06-30T15:46:00.000-04:00

I saw the sign and my heart sank. The Silver Thimble is closing.

On my way home today, I popped in to say thank you and good wishes. Together we reminisced, fondly recalling experiences shared. My eyes welled up as I sang the shoppe's praises and, for a moment, I thought oh my gosh I might cry. The dear lady owner laughingly winced and said, "Ohhh, now don't get me started." We hugged and, after a brief linger, I left.

I loved that place.

2005-06-29T13:25:00.001-04:00

love matty

Credence

2005-06-29T13:20:00.000-04:00

I treasure this birthday greeting my nephew gave me a couple of years ago. His face shone as he handed me the envelope ~ so pleased was he to have found such a lovely sentiment. I framed the card and his tender expression of affection now graces my bathroom wall. What better place to hang this gentle understanding than amidst the day-to-day routine? A small act of kindness has the power to change the world.

2005-06-25T16:52:00.001-04:00

sovereign house

.

2005-06-24T16:58:00.000-04:00

2005-06-18T22:47:00.001-04:00

the latest styles

A Lifetime

2005-06-18T22:12:00.000-04:00

There's a man I want to meet. I saw him sitting in his red chair outside his shop entrance. He was dressed with impeccable style - white dress shirt, black suit pants, suspenders, red bow tie, not a hair out of place. I wondered if he was breathing he sat so still.

I've heard about him from a friend. He cuts my friend's hair. He charges seven dollars for the latest style from New York, London, Berlin, Paris, Rome.

I am filled with curiosity. He drives in to his shop every day from Toronto. Every day. He has eight red leather chairs inside - the ones with the foot pump that raises a head of hair to cutting height. He has the shaving creme mugs with the shaving creme brushes and the leather straps for sharpening the blades.

I've been told he's been a barber for over 70 years. I saw him check his watch. Seven o'clock time to close. I saw his curved back and ear-high shoulders. I saw him leave his chair and enter his shop.

There's a man I want to meet. Another day, perhaps.

2005-06-12T19:00:00.001-04:00

puddle passion

I had to Laugh

2005-06-12T18:45:00.000-04:00

A gaggle of geese were dawdling in the cool, shaded grasses when I arrived. There were goslings of varying age - some as young as several weeks, fuzzy little birds of spun-gold yellow. After a time, the geese began to assemble (as school children do) in lines of two-by-two. The parade to the lake for an afternoon swim began with several mama/daddy geese leading the way while the guardians rounded up any rag-tag stragglers.

Marching onward, the flock took a short-cut across a small parking lot where an earlier rain had puddled the pavement. A trio of six-week-old goslings raced off toward the water slick and belly-slid into the puddle as if landing on the great waters of Lake Ontario after a long winded flight. I had to laugh as they romped around in this little patch of water-heaven. My heart burst open as I witnessed their unbridled joy. Innocence is so very beautiful.

2005-06-10T15:05:00.001-04:00

lawn shadows

Contrasts

2005-06-10T14:30:00.000-04:00

It's crazy hot outside ~ sweltering, humid heat with smog-cast skies. The grass is dry yellow and dappled with promises of shade. Yet the day calls and the birds twitter merrily in the cool trees.

I was thinking while I waited outside the grocery store. As a woman walked by, skirt swaying with the casual pace of a summer's day, I recalled the freezing snow-ridden parking lot of last December. (I had sorely struggled against a bitter wind as I hauled my steel-framed cart over the tired ice ruts. Steering was so very difficult and I had forgotten to put on my mitts. My poor chapped hands were left to fend for themselves.)

I smiled to myself. How easily circumstance shifts.

2005-06-06T22:09:00.001-04:00

grandma's button jar

All So Delicious

2005-06-06T17:42:00.001-04:00

I've been thinking about button jars. My great-grandmothers kept button jars. My grandmothers kept button jars. My mother keeps a button jar. Magical, practical, and everlasting, button jars are home to the daily kindnesses of family. Buttons can enchant the child fancy, mend the worn shirt, embellish the artistic creation. I started a button jar for my niece, Sarah, when she was six years old. Twelve years later, I cherish the bright button bracelet she handcrafted. It was the last present she ever gave me.

Rummaging around my sewing room yesterday, I came across the old cylindrical tea tin one of my grandmothers kept her buttons in. The words Tenderleaf Tea is Also Delicious are boldly embossed across the top of its rather plain lid. I smiled at the words 'also delicious' and wondered what word could possibly carry more import than delicious when describing a prime cup of tea. (Steeped, perhaps, eh?)

I tugged off the lid and buttons spilled across the ironing board surface. Old tea-dusted buttons become markers in time. I've been told that the sea-green blue button belonged to my great-grandma's dress. I conjure up a picture in my mind's eye. The round, white petal-dome button belonged to a summer blouse my grandma wore. I remember the feel of the crisp white cotton on my face when she hugged me. The red-ringed 'Happy Birthday to You' button belonged to my mother when she was a child. She received it from her sunday school teacher and her eyes lit up today when I mentioned it to her.

A simple and practical tradition, Button Jars bring joy and the comfort of knowing home always.

2005-06-01T22:57:00.001-04:00

night dandies

The Fading Light Beckons

2005-06-01T22:30:00.000-04:00

I was sitting by the window watching the sunlight fade into dusk. There's such a quiet beauty as shades of sunset filter the shadows. I had to see them - the magic wands of night - for they may be gone by morning.

.

2005-05-31T22:37:00.000-04:00

................... http://www.endofsuburbia.com ...................

2005-05-27T21:21:00.001-04:00

kiddy pool splash party

Faithfulness

2005-05-27T20:55:00.000-04:00

"Create for yourself a new indomitable perception of faithfulness. What is usually called faithfulness passes so quickly. Let this be your faithfulness: You will experience moments, fleeting moments, with the other person. The human being will appear to you then as if filled, irradiated, with the archetype of his/her spirit. And then there may be, indeed will be, other moments, long periods of time when human beings are darkened. At such times, you will learn to say to yourself, "The spirit makes me strong. I remember the archetype. I saw it once. No illusion, no deception shall rob me of it." Always struggle for the image that you saw. This struggle is faithfulness. Striving thus for faithfulness you shall be close to one another as if endowed with the protective powers of angels." (Rudolph Steiner)

.

2005-05-27T20:14:00.000-04:00

scant incongruity: bus advertisement
A banner ad plastered across the tailgate back of a bus pictures a rescue scene... ambulance, two stretcher bearers, body fully covered by a blanket, car askew, police. The ad header reads: Pay Attention. The ad footer reads: Drive Safely. I'm driving behind the bus down the side of Hamilton Mountain in morning traffic. I'm distracted thinking about distracted drivers and accidents.

2005-05-24T20:03:00.001-04:00

tweety bush

Juxtaposition

2005-05-24T19:56:00.000-04:00

I love authentic expression. On my wanders today, I came across this bright smiling tweety bird perfectly placed mid-bush ~ like a sweet surprise tucked away in the middle of the unexpected. The contrasted use of topiary with folkart intrigues me. I wonder what led to this marriage of craft. Euonymus meet Tweety.

2005-05-20T23:05:00.001-04:00

dad knows the way

Finding Our Way Together

2005-05-20T20:18:00.000-04:00

This afternoon, I drove my Dad to the cancer clinic for his daily radiation treatment. I usually drop him off at the door and wait at a nearby park until I get the 'nudge' that he's ready to go home. Funnily enough, he seems to enjoy going in on his own and every day he has a story to share. I love to hear his light hearted tales - moments when he forgets all his troubles. I've sat with my Dad in waiting rooms and he has, when he's of a mind, a truly great capacity to lift the spirits of all those around him.

On our way home today, I ask my Dad if he'd like to walk the new labyrinth with me. My Dad agrees without apparent hesitation though I catch that look - the one where he ever so slightly shakes his head and I know he's thinking, "Here she goes again with her crazy ideas." My Dad, being the dear soul that he is, loves me so he indulges the moment.

We walk up to the round and find the entrance. (The labyrinth path has yet to be painted. A strong pencil outline marks the way.) I explain to my Dad that all he has to do is follow the path to the centre. He goes first and I follow. Within a brief time, my Dad is well ahead of me. I can feel his determination gather strength as it always does when he has a goal. I continue to walk a meditative pace as I watch the distance between us lengthen.

The labyrinth has many loops and curves as it winds its way. My Dad is now walking beside me on an adjacent path. A few moments later and my Dad now passes me walking in the opposite direction. A few more moments go by and my Dad is rounding a curve on the far side of the circle. This dance continues to weave until I hear my Dad declare, with excitement, that he has arrived at the centre. I join him perhaps three minutes later and, standing together, we talk about the panoramic view the centre affords. We both have a sense of awe. It is a perfect spring day.

My Dad sets off on the journey out before I do. I watch him as he walks away, his pace slower than when we started. Finishing, my Dad rests on a steel black bench and waits for me. When I sit down beside him we talk about our walk. I ask him how he feels and he says his mind is clearer and his emotions are quieter. I sense he is feeling more peaceful and this makes my heart sing.

As we walk back to the car, my Dad tells me that, even though he hasn't always taken the time to do things like this, he really likes doing them with me. I smile and I tell him I know.

2005-05-19T00:21:00.001-04:00

tulips double pinks

Spring Delight

2005-05-19T00:15:00.000-04:00

I was so very excited when I chose these lacy dress tulips for planting last fall. They are just lovely and each day I greet them with a smile and thank them for gracing my spring.

2005-05-14T22:40:00.001-04:00

labyrinth waiting for colour

Labyrinth

2005-05-14T17:39:00.000-04:00

I walked a labyrinth today. I walked in to the centre, paused, and walked out again. Today was the opening ceremony. Drummers, words of dedication, sweet treats to eat. The ceremony began at one. I was late. I missed the celebration... only saw the tail-end stragglers. Their joy lingered and it washed over me as I walked the labyrinth today. I walked in to the centre, gave thanks, and walked out again.

2005-05-10T23:15:00.001-04:00

field of dandelion dreams

Across the Way

2005-05-10T21:07:00.000-04:00

Across the way, two small children are frolicking with dandelion delight. They are very young, perhaps three and four, and I recognize they must be siblings. The little girl bends down on her child-pose haunches to pick (what I'd like to think of as) her first dandelion bouquet. Oblivious, her younger brother pursues a tail-wagging romp through the yellow-green grasses.

Snip-snap, the little girl artfully adds flower after flower to her tight fisted bunch. Quickly burdened, she chides her brother to help. The little boy happily responds and I hear their giggle-laughter carry across the way. I remember the joy of my childhood days when my sisters and I gladly picked dandelion yellows to bring home to our mother. Yes, I remember.

2005-05-07T23:00:00.001-04:00

three bright faces

A Park Runs Through It

2005-05-07T22:36:00.000-04:00

In the community where I live, a very long, narrow strip of land (once cleared of all verdant green to make way for a forgotten road) is now known as parkland. Wild grasses grow on either side of a pebbled footpath that eventually leads to the lake. Field birds sing the breezes and, on this sun spring day, an abundance of bright yellowed dandelions catches my breath.