Path of Least Resistance

How often do you become stuck in the same pattern or travelling the same route? Just as water flows along the path of least resistance, all too often we choose the easiest way before us, leaving talents untapped, possibilities not pursued, and goals unfulfilled. And in the process, these well-worn paths become deeply etched, like the lines on this rock face, making it more difficult to take an alternate route.

In the Element

Do you ever feel like you don't quite fit into the group around you? Or perhaps you stand out because you do things a little differently than others? It turns out that may not be a bad thing. It could be a signal that you have not discovered what it is that places you in your "element".

I'm presently reading a wonderful book about finding your element by Ken Robinson, entitled The Element: How Finding Your Passion Changes Everything. I only wish I had found it years ago... but it hadn't been written yet!

According to the inside of the book cover, the element "is the point at which natural talent meets personal passion." When this happens, people "feel most themselves, most inspired, and achieve their highest levels". I guess it's what is meant by someone "being in their element". How odd that just days before I came across this book, I had snapped this photo because something about this wee stone seemed to ask the same questions, "What am I doing here? Why do I feel different?"

Reflections on Summer

My goodness, I have finally stopped long enough to realize that we’re in September already. Now how did that happen without my knowing? September is my favourite month. For one thing there is that whole nostalgic back-to-school feeling that lies beneath the surface as I sense the days shortening and the mornings getting a little nippy. I have experienced that shopping for school supplies rush firsthand again this year as both boys are still in school, albeit high school and this year... university. No matter how many years go by since I was enrolled in school, I still love the feeling of new beginnings, of the possibilities that a new school year brings.

It may have taken me all this time, but happily the epiphany was reached while there was still summer left on the calendar. With fall not scheduled until September 22 this year, lovely sunny summer days lie ahead to enjoy. So I’m grateful that my awareness has come in time to step back and be conscious of these last days of summer. I hope you will take a moment each day to find the pleasure in the warmth of the sun above and the grouond below your feet and of course that warmth that comes from all the lively sights and sounds of this spirited if sometimes lazy season.

Elephant Ears

The leaves on this particular hosta plant are humungous, the size of the ears on a baby elephant at least. So imagine the magnitude of the water droplets that have gathered here overnight. If you were dying of thirst you could save yourself by gathering the water that has collected on all these leaves in this corner of my garden.

On the Inside

There I go, looking inside things again... going right to the heart of the matter so to speak. Seeing what is going on right in front of my nose without me being aware of it. These fox gloves are perhaps a timely reminder for me to do the same thing... to look inside myself now and then to see what is going on there. It’s good to stop and take stock from time to time. How are things going? Have there been any shifts I’m not conscious of? Where am I heading? Is it in the direction I want? All good questions.

Luminescence

The first of this year’s David Austen roses are beginning to bloom in my garden. I can’t tell you how much enjoyment they bring me. I never get over how exquisitely beautiful they are. These photos have captured a certain translucence that reminds me just how transitory their beauty is. And at the same time they have a luminosity about them. No wonder they are my favourite roses in my garden!

More Winter Scenes

By now, those of you in the midst of winters like mine are probably groaning at the sight of yet more winter photos. But at least they are focusing on plant material rather than snow and ice clinging to branches. Right? Somehow, “winter wonderland” photos like the ones used on cards are wearing a little thin with me. I think they might be more appreciated by people who don’t actually experience the type of winters that we do. I hope that you’ll agree that the ones pictured here are somewhat different from the “snowy vista with snow padded trees” variety. The last thing we need are more beautiful winter scenes. Do I sound grouchy? It must be January.

Beyond the Door

What a lovely old door this is. Wonderful old patina, making the fissured varnished surface look like leather that's dried out and cracking. And the beautifully weathered metal door knob... I would love to see the type of key that fits inside this old-fashioned keyhole. Where does a door like this one lead?

Is it still early enough into the new year to continue with a spot of introspection a wee while longer? A lot of doors felt like they were shutting in 2009, so I’m hoping that many doors will be opening this year. Doors that lead to new opportunities, to be grasped whenever and wherever they may appear... doors that guide the way to new avenues, just waiting to be ventured down... and doors through which new experiences can be found that invite exploration.

Appearances Are Deceiving

Snow, snow, snow... some people love it, others don’t. Love it or not, what some people (who don’t live with it for long periods of time) might not realize, is that is doesn’t always look pristine white the way it does on picture postcards. It can quickly turn quite dirty, like these grime-encrusted piles. These almost look like snowy rock faces, but they are all snow, piled at the side of the road.

Barren January

Maple keys, bent over like a pair of wings. Perhaps they are huddling to keep warm in the cold. Barren January... a month to keep cozy, to snuggle under a blanket, curled up with a good book and a hot drink at the ready. A mouthful or two of good chocolate wouldn’t be amiss.

Tortoise Wisdom

I've had this little fellow for quite some time. Picked up in a thrift shop, his corduroy finish is a little worn in places. But such patina is rather endearing. Any labels or tags he might have once had are long gone, so I don't know where he was made. What lesson does the tortoise hold for me these days? Well, maybe that it's okay to be at a point in time where things are not happening too quickly. Sometimes life moves so fast you hardly have time to consider what you are doing or why. This might be a time to reflect, consider, change direction and move slowly towards a future goal. It also might be a reminder to be patient. To quietly wait while things sort themselves out in preparation for what comes next.

Iron Ring

This iron ring lies discreetly in a rock, low to the ground, beside the path that runs along the Ottawa River, just below Parliament Hill. It has obviously been there a long time. I wonder what its use was? Perhaps to tie up a boat , maybe a horse, or some other purpose altogether?

I wonder how many other objects can still be found from years gone by whose original purpose is now unknown by passers-by. Whatever it was used for, both the rock and the ring are slowly being overtaken by vegetation in a most charming way. Perhaps in a few years the ring will be completely hidden from view. And then who will come across it and wonder about its origin?

Letters from the Heart

At one time people used to send handwritten letters. In fact there were so many letters delivered through the mail, some people even had mail slots in their doors that were specifically labeled “letters”. What a magical sounding word. Email may be great for instant communication, but oh what we have lost in terms of aesthetics. Imagine for a moment slicing open an envelope, hand addressed to you, a letter written on beautiful heavy coloured paper stock with a fountain pen in the most beautiful shade of peacock blue. Imagine too that the stationery carries the slight scent of rose water, or lavender perhaps. Now imagine that the person that has taken the time to write you this letter is someone very dear to you. Are your senses overloaded yet? Yes, we have definitely lost something very special in this age of emails and texting.

Admit it, doesn’t your heart lift just a little on the rare occasion when you find a letter in your mailbox, not a bill or a flyer, but an actual letter? Maybe it’s time to return to some of the time-consuming but oh so satisfying ways we used to do things. Letter writing should be one of these. What a treat to bestow on someone you care about.

One Step Forward, Three Steps Back

One step forward, three steps back. That’s what it feels like today. When I started this blog on March 20th, just 19 days ago, it was the first day of spring. Outside there were signs that indicated maybe, just maybe spring was here. The photo I used that day was of snowdrops, in bloom under the birch trees in our front yard. There was no snow on the ground. Pointy sharp tips of spring plants were starting to pierce the soil. Promise was in the air. This morning the same patch of ground is now under snow. Snow. Nothing to stress over, certainly. But for those of us who live through winter after long winter, one shouldn’t underestimate the effect that extending winter for an additional period of time has on our psyche.

We are tired of dressing in sensible boots and multiple layers. We don’t want to scrape ice and snow from our windshields another time. We long to be pottering about our gardens, putting things right. We want to be raking up the leaves that protected the flower beds, trimming back dead foliage, checking on certain plants to see if they made it through the winter. We ache to be able to sit outside again and sip a cup of tea or savour a mug of coffee while reading the paper.

On Monday when we woke up to a snowfall, it was not too bad. You could see that the snowflakes were melting as they touched down. Yesterday, it snowed a little harder and began to accumulate, still it was nothing to get concerned about. But now, a third day with more snow ... and with more on the way tomorrow, one wonders when spring will truly be with us.

Welcome to My World

We all live in our own little world. Some people’s worlds might be the entire city where they live, crisscrossing it on a daily basis. For others, the world might be their community or neighbourhood. And for those bound to home or a care facility due to illness or frailty, the world might be very small indeed. No matter the size of your world, there can be much to see. Discoveries can be found in what may seem at first glance the most mundane of surroundings. Someone confined to one room might see the spectacular pattern of foliage the sun casts on a wall, the sparkle of light reflecting off a drinking glass, the rich wood grain of a particular plank in oak floorboards. Someone else might travel the breadth of their city without finding a single thing they felt was worthy of their notice. How can this be? It is not perhaps the world you have to draw from, but rather the eyes that see it — or don’t. What will you see today?

Where Did I Come From?

I have heart-wrenchingly few family heirlooms. I’m not talking here about valuable paintings, furniture or even jewellery. I am talking about having virtually nothing at all. Perhaps it’s because all four of my grandparents were born in Great Britain. One set of grandparents stayed put in England, the other set sailed for Canada and met each other in Montreal. Maybe nothing made it over the ocean. Maybe they just didn’t bring more than a few clothes with them. The only things I have are a pair of handmade wooden butter pats and a walking stick. And I am so happy to have those. I think my paternal great-grandfather may have carved the butter pats himself in Scotland. The walking stick, from my mother’s side, has been in the family for a least four generations. Worse than not having family heirlooms, I have precious few photographs of my grandparents, none of any great-grandparents, distant aunts, uncles or cousins.

How can this be? I am the self-professed family archivist/genealogist — positively drawn to history, family and otherwise. I must have inherited the gene from someone. Why is it they didn’t keep and pass anything on? Maybe they were so consumed with just getting by that such things were not thought of. Or maybe there is someone else in the family, another branch, who has it all. And it’s not “things” I crave. What I lust for is family photos, journals, and letters — all those intimate sources that would give me insight into the people I came from.

By the way, if anyone can tell me anything about my family's walking stick, I would love to hear it!

Summer Envy

It’s cold and damp and there was a dusting of snow overnight. Oh how I look forward to actually be using this straw bag once again. Its cheery blue and white floral interior beckons me, reminding me of blue skies and wispy clouds. I am imagining it filled with summer time paraphernalia: sunglasses, sunscreen, towel, novel for reading at the beach, bottle of lemonade, and perhaps a pad and pencils for quick sketching. Thinking warm sunny thoughts!