Blogtober 12: Mellow

 

Rain dripped most of the day and the temperature was chilly. I went for a walk this afternoon during a break in the drizzle, and it began again before I got home. A mug of tea soon warmed me. Autumn has truly arrived. Time to cozy in. 

I'm sharing images from past Octobers below. It's such a beautiful month whether the sun shines or rain drips down.

"October sunshine bathed the park with such a melting light that it had the dimmed impressive look of a landscape by an old master."

Elizabeth Enright

Crows seem to come into their own in Autumn. They circle overhead and land in the tall trees just behind our home. What a wonderful variety of noises they make. There's one I particularly love that sounds like pebbles dropped into water, or deep-throated bubbles. It's a much more attractive sound than the harsh cawing we usually hear. 

Sunshine and shadow, slanting light, shimmering water. This photo was taken last October on a trip to the west coast of the Island, at Fairy Lake. 

Tomorrow is predicted to be sunny again. October is like that, isn't it? We must enjoy the sunshine while we can. 

I was reminded of these words from L. M. Montgomery's novel Pat of Silverbush, and thought them suitable for this celebratory weekend of Thanksgiving gatherings with family and friends. 

"There be three gentle and goodlie things

To be here,

To be together,

And to think well of one another."

Wishing you a lovely new week full of beautiful moments. 

Blogtober 11: Happy Thanksgiving

 

We gathered at our younger daughter's home. She and her husband put on a beautiful meal for 15 people. Everyone contributed something which makes it much easier. Pumpkins, leaves and vines decorated the table. The name cards to tell us where to sit were hand painted. 

There's something very lovely about a long table, or two tables put together, filled with beloved faces all around. 

I am filled with gratitude for my family and friends, for the beauty that surrounds us, for abundant and delicious food, for peace in this beautiful country of Canada. I am thankful for the freedoms we enjoy to gather, to worship, to discuss freely, for our health and education systems, and so much more. No place is perfect, but there is much more to laud than to criticize. 

There was pie to complete the meal - lots of pie - pumpkin and Kentucky Derbe, which is a pecan and chocolate confection. I brought one whole pie home, which is a good thing as far as Tim is concerned! 

Thanksgiving officially falls on Monday, but families enjoy getting together throughout the weekend - the day really doesn't matter. 

After dinner the younger set worked on a craft. Our son-in-law had drilled holes for eyes and mouths in a number of acorns and the children had a fun time creating little people from them. 

They are all, from the almost 5 year-old to the almost 15-year-old, interested in making things. Give them raw materials they come up with something unique. 

Now home for the evening. Our own dining table has a bit of Autumn decor with a brass bowl and candlesticks, pinecones and shiny conkers. 

I'm thankful, too, for the friends I've met through blogging, and for you who are reading this post. Blogging through the years has been a wonderful way to connect across the globe. I wish you all beautiful moments to treasure. 

Blogtober 10: A Very Quiet Day

 

Welcome rain has fallen throughout the day. I've done very little today and am sharing images from past Octobers, other than the one above, taken not too long ago at Butchart Gardens. I love window boxes full of flowers. They are such a lovely feature on many European homes. Our home doesn't have a place for them, so I make do with pots. 

A selection of pumpkins on my niece's window ledge, taken a few years ago in Alberta. 

Some of my readers may remember that last November I caught a bad cold and ended up with an ear infection. The infection is long gone, but I was left with a plugged ear that has continued for these many months. The ENT specialist can see nothing, but wanted to rule out any oddities, so I had an MRI this morning.

By morning I mean 3:00 AM. The MRI department runs 24 hours a day. We set our alarm and Tim drove me in the black of night to the hospital. I have never had an MRI and am somewhat claustrophobic, so my doctor prescribed a wee bit of sedation. The MRI technicians were very kind and gentle and explained things as we went along. I chosen to have a cloth over my eyes that didn't block out light, but stopped me from seeing the very close top of the machine. I had heard the machine was loud (I also had ear plugs), but what surprised me was the variety of noises it made. Sharp beeps, hums, clatters, regular pulses, and more. 

We were home and back asleep by 4 AM. But I've felt the effects of the mild sedation all day, with brain fog and little energy. All I've done is the laundry and made up the bed with clean sheets. I'm sure to wake up refreshed in the morning. 

Tomorrow I'll be preparing a few dishes to take to Thanksgiving Dinner at our daughter's place. 

It's been a cozy evening here, with a bit of reading, a cup of tea, and a square of dark chocolate. Good night, dear friends. 

Blogtober 9: A Look Back at Boating

 

In August we explored a small area of the maze of inlets, islands, and channels of the coast of British Columbia. One memorable place was Village Island where the Mamalilikulla First Nation lived for many years. An abandoned village remains, named Mimkwamlis which means, village with rocks and island out front, a perfect description of the setting. 

The small bay where we anchored our boat, pictured above, was serene and beautiful. On a tree on the small islet to the left, two Bald Eagles watched us anchor and row the dinghy to shore. 

We had earlier contacted the First Nation and were given permission to go ashore. The village site is used by the people for education, tourism, and traditional ceremonies. While walking along the wide grassy trail, we looked out over the water to the rocks and islands close by. I thought the water looked positively tropical. However, it was very cold. 

In 1920 an English nurse, Kathleen O'Brien, arrived as a missionary on Village Island. At her own expense she built and operated a tuberculosis sanatorium and a school for the local children, seen above. She worked there for 25 years before returning to England. 

A few houses remain, but they are uninhabitable and overgrown with blackberries, vines, and salal. Bears love visiting the abandoned fruit trees in the late summer and autumn. The massive cedar post structure above was one end of a ceremonial building used by the Mamalilikula people. 

Here is another view of the structure from the other side, looking out to sea. The wide shallow beach is rich with clams and other shellfish. 

For many years totem poles stood in the village, but the last one fell several years ago and a new one was raised. 

As we walked down the dock to our dinghy, I stopped to speak with a young man working on his boat and asked him why the village was abandoned. It is such a beautiful sheltered spot. He gave several reasons. One was the shortage of fresh water that had developed in the 1960s. Another was the shallow depth of the ocean surrounding the island which meant that deeper draft fishing vessels could not be harboured there. The people moved to another site with better access. 

We enjoyed our visit to the island, and were grateful for the history learned while we were there. 

Blogtober 8: Trees

 

Of all the elements of Nature, I think trees are the most obvious harbingers of changing seasons. From the delicate unfurling of acid green leaves in spring to richly elegant shades of summer to the golden and crimson colours of autumn and finally, the architecture of bare branches in winter, one can determine the season by looking at a tree. 

 

Our forests are mainly coniferous and remain green year-round. In the summer, the deciduous trees blend in and are not very prominent. It is Autumn when they come into their own and really stand out, glowing in the light. 

Our birch tree is almost bare now. I watched leaves in flight this morning in the gentle breeze. The leaves of the acer tree are not yet red and leave much later. 

I'd be hard-pressed to choose a favourite tree, but I confess to being partial to aspens and birches. And tall poplars. Do you have a favourite type of tree?

Today was spent puttering at home. I made Cranberry Sauce in preparation for our Thanksgiving Dinner this weekend. Our daughter is hosting, and I'm contributing a few things. It's good to get things done ahead of time. I like to make enough Cranberry Sauce for roast chicken dinners throughout the year. It keeps well in sealed jars. 

Most of my day was spent indoors, but I did go for a walk and felt the warm sun on my face. The air is cooling though and once the sun disappears, there's a definite chill. I wandered through the garden and picked a few lingering sweet peas along with the cosmos that continue to bloom their hearts out, and put them into a wee vase. The sweet peas are so full of fragrance. I breathed in deeply knowing that it will be many months before they bloom again. 

Blogtober 7: A Soup, Autumn Leaves, and an Interesting Flower

 

I stopped by the library this afternoon and took a photo of the Chinese Lanterns (abutilon pictum) hanging on a bush just outside the door. They are the prettiest things and so striking. I wonder if they are difficult to grow. Do I have room for another bush? Likely not.

October 7, 1897

"It is October and autumn. We are having delightful fall days, misty and purple, with a pungent, mellow air and magnificent sunsets, followed by the rarest of golden twilights and moonlit nights floating in silver. Maple and birch are crimson and gold and the fields sun themselves in the aftermath. "

The Selected Journals of L.M. Montgomery: Vol I

Did you see the full moon last night? It was hiding behind some trees so I walked out onto the road and watched it glowing in the night sky. This morning when I walked in the early light, it was on the other side of our house, cheerfully round and smiling.

After the library, my next stop was the grocery store. There are trees throughout the parking lot and their leaves turn very red and fall quite soon in October. Soon the ground will be littered with them. 

I've cut 8 pumpkins from the vines and they are curing on the back deck. They are not overly large, which suits me just fine. I'm sure that one or two will be carved into Jack-o-lanterns at the end of the month. With one I made soup. Pumpkin soups are often too sweet for me, but this one of full of savory herb flavours - rosemary, sage, and thyme. Scrumptious. Click here for the recipe to Pumpkin Soup with Herbs.

Blogtober 6 : An Autumn Memory

 

Cow moose and calf seen on our trip to the Yukon three years ago.

My husband used to hunt. He loved to go to the Willow River area where his grandparents had farmed. We would get up very early, pack a lunch and a thermos of hot tea and drive for an hour, arriving just as the first faint light touched the horizon. We parked the car and began walking along the remnants of an old corduroy road towards Sam's Field. Tim remembered the field as a productive piece of land, but now it was abandoned and beavers had overtaken it, creating a boggy place beloved to moose.         

Fog softened the landscape and the only sound was our feet tramping along the muddy path. Suddenly Tim motioned for me to be still. Across the field a moose materialized in the mist, ethereal yet solid. Surprisingly quiet for such a large creature, she picked her way across the field, raising spindly legs with a graceful delicacy that surprised me. We stood and watched her for several minutes. I was glad when Tim said the moose was female, thus protected from a hunter’s bullet.

We had no camera, yet the sight of the moose appearing in the early morning fog is a memory as clear as yesterday. It was a gift to us, one that we talk about together from time to time.            

Today was spent at home, doing a little housework and sewing. A walk in the sunshine was lovely. I scuffed through fallen leaves, dry and crisp, caught on the roadside. The forecast ahead is full of similar days. 

The dahlias seen here are blooming in Butchart Gardens, where I visited last week.  

Aren't they stunning? 

Just a note: When Tim was able to successfully hunt, we ate the moose meat. It has a slightly stronger taste and needs to be cooked low and slow.