A Wander Through my Mind

 

Nothing is so beautiful as Spring - 

When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush;

Gerard Manley Hopkins

When I opened my bedroom curtains this morning the fat golden full moon looked at me directly, as if to say, "Wake up, sleepyhead!" Now I sit here at my computer looking out on a cloudy morning that will surely brighten. One fat robin, red breast highly visible, sits in the neighbour's blossoming plum tree. Daffodils are nearly finished, and hyacinths soon to follow. A dark-eyed junco perches on the deck railing. I see the tiniest buds of lilacs beginning to form. Hooray for spring flowers. 

I confess that Spring is not my favourite season. She's too capricious. On days when the sun shines warm, the wind blows chill. I welcome the change of seasons, and there is much to admire - emerging plants, the turtles sunning themselves on the log in the pond, blossoms galore, and the increasing light. On the flip side, one might wear a down jacket, a raincoat, and go sockless in sandals all in one week. Capricious!

"The world is full of peril and there are many dark places. But still, there is much that is fair. And though in all lands, love is now mingled with grief, it still grows, perhaps, the greater."

J. R. R. Tolkien

I've been stuck for words lately. Feeling unmotivated. There are ideas bubbling up inside me that are looking for expression. I am learning to wait for them like bulbs forming roots before bursting into colour. I'm also leaning more and more into staying away from media that encourages short interactions, such as Instagram and Twitter, and instead enjoying the thoughtfulness of blogging. But have you experienced how addicting those short snippets of irrelevant information can be? I am taking back my time and hope that it will result in renewed motivation and creativity. 

"You will never change your life until you change something you do daily. The secret of your success is found in your daily routine."

Annie Dillard

This week is busy with wonderful things. We have a birthday to celebrate (Tim's), Good Friday to observe, and Easter dinner followed by an egg hunt in the garden (weather permitting). I sat down this morning and made a lovely long list of tasks that I will enjoy ticking off one by one. 

I'll leave you with one little Easter memory. We usually visited my grandparents' home on Easter and Grandma had a special large chocolate egg hidden for each grandchild. I was the eldest and no matter how hard I looked, I couldn't find my egg. I found my sister and brother's eggs, and those of the cousins, but not my own. As I became more and more frustrated, my Grandma told me gently that since I was the eldest my egg was hidden in a more difficult place, and that I had done well in helping the younger children find their eggs. I don't remember where the egg was finally hiding, but I do remember Grandma's encouragement. 

Then there was the time I got stuck in the outhouse at my other grandmother's farm home while wearing my new Easter dress - a pale yellow linen dress with a hand-embroidered daisy on the shoulder. My mother made us new dresses every Easter and every Christmas. No matter how I loudly I hollered no one came to my rescue. They were all busy eating dinner and visiting indoors. I finally managed to pry the door open and escaped, thinking I had been gone for ever so long only to discover that no one had missed me. 

So that was two little Easter memories. Now it's time to tackle that list of tasks. Have a most wonderful day, and I'd love it if you shared any Easter or spring memories of your own. 

Spring of Deception

 

Unseasonably warm and pleasant temperatures have everyone outdoors. Over the past four days I've gardened, walked along the water, kayaked, and hiked a coastal trail. We all know this false spring won't last, but we're making the most of it. 

Yesterday Tim and I hiked part of the Coast Trail, a rugged path overlooking the Strait of Juan de Fuca. It's one of our favourite places, a bit rugged with lots of uneven rocks to scramble over, and gorgeous ocean and mountain views at every turn. 

We met a number of people on the trail, all enjoying this wonderful weather. While walking we both go at a good pace, but we stop frequently to admire sights along the way. One of these serendipitous discoveries yesterday was a patch of Henderson Shooting Stars (dodecathedron hendersonii). It was the only patch I found, a little off the beaten path where we paused to watch a quartet of Black Oystercatchers.

The four of them (only two visible in the photo) were obviously in a meeting of some sorts, taking turns to whistle shrilly at each other through their long red beaks. Things calmed down when two left and only two remained. 

We'd packed a lunch and ate while stretched out on a rock shelf warmed by the sun. What a view!

On the way back we smelled it before we saw it - Skunk Cabbage (lysichiton americanus) - smells exactly like its name. It grows in wet areas and is one of the first plants to emerge in the spring. Do you have Skunk Cabbage in your area? In the eastern part of the continent I understand it's purple, not yellow. 

We met an elderly man walking with his dogs on the trail back to our car. He asked if we had seen the rock walls said to have been built by two women over a period of time, before he moved to the area in 1977. We'd never heard of it, but after he told us how to get there, we took a short detour. There are probably 100 feet of dry stone walls 1-2 feet tall meandering over the hillside in graceful curves. Now moss-covered, no one really knows their history. A puzzle indeed. 

The sun is calling me again. Tomorrow things will cool again, but what a treat to have enjoyed these pleasant days. 

Life These Days

 

I only listen to the radio while driving. Occasionally I'll sit in the driveway for a few moments to finish a segment. Last Saturday I heard that multiple ferry crossings were cancelled due to an impending windstorm. Tim thought it would be a fine idea to go down to the breakwater and watch the waves. So we did. 

This gull perched on the breakwater railing looked for the waves just as we did. Instead, the seas were calm. The evening was lovely, with pinkish skies, little wind, and few people. I think they were all at home because of the windstorm. Out in the strait two large ships sat at anchor. We watched another round the point and slide into the strait, a container ship headed back across the Pacific. 

 

As we were leaving, a pilot boat left the harbour. We guessed that it was headed for the container ship. Ships coming through the Gulf Islands from Vancouver must have a pilot who is familiar with these waters on board. Once a ship is in the strait, no pilot is needed, and are taken off the ship to return home. As we walked back to the car the pilot boat zoomed across the water and slid in beside the container ship. We were too far away to see the pilot descend into the boat, but soon the boat returned to shore. 

And the wind? It showed up later that evening, howling and whistling around the corners of the house. Fierce indeed. 

A grocery store handful of tulips is nearing its end. I cut off the stems a couple of times as they grow and grow into ungainly length. My parents visited this week and we enjoyed a drive up island and lunch out. We'd hoped it would be overlooking the water, but instead we overlooked a yellow digger working beside the water. 

I made a couple of rice bags for friends this week. Heated in the microwave, they are warm and comforting when one feels chilled or has a sore neck or back. One friend is having work done on her house and has no heat in her bedroom. I suggested taking the heated bag to bed with her, as I do if it's very chilly out. I make the bags from flannel or linen, and then make a cover for them for laundering. 

We are expecting a sudden rise in temperature over the next few days and I am thrilled. I'm looking forward to getting out in the garden a bit. That's life around here these days - pleasant and ordinary. Filled with small pleasures. How are things in your corner? 

Friday Favourites on Saturday

 

Spring is slow to arrive. We've had a week with rain, wind, and snow, and hail. And a wee bit of sunshine that I captured as it cast wonderful shadows on the living room mantel. We're happy for all the moisture as it means snow in the mountains that will feed the streams and rivers later on. I am looking forward to warmer weather, though, and am itching to get out into the garden more. We've begun pruning and trimming and I cleaned up one section of the vegetable garden. 

It's been a quiet week of ordinary things, minutes and hours and days falling gently upon each other, piling up in contentment and satisfaction. Here are a few things that have delighted me this week:

- The Reading List by Sara Nisha Adams 

I highly recommend this book about books 

and the power of reading

- prunus tree blossoms, pink and white and oh, so frothy

- homemade sourdough bread

- bright patches of yellow daffodils seen from my 

kitchen window

- a little spring cleaning, so satisfying to see tidy shelves and cupboards

A bit of indoor gardening. Basil is leafing out nicely under lights and I'll likely be potting it up this next week.

And finally, one little incident that tickled my sense of humour. When I remember the linens at my grandmothers' homes, I remember how soft the sheets and pillow cases were. Soft and oh, so thin. This week, while changing pillow cases, one case split wide, and I laughed to think that I now had those same soft, thin linens. It's time for a bit of a refresh, I think. 

Tonight the clocks spring forward, not my favourite thing. There's talk of stopping it, but who knows if or when that will actually happen. Meanwhile, we'll change all the analog clocks and the digital ones will take care of themselves.

Happy Sunday!

Friday Favourites

 

On the sunniest day of the week we went for a little hike. The trail to McKenzie Bight is not long and it's easy going down, but one has to remember that going back it's uphill all the way. We were glad for our jackets and hats. A sharp wind took away much of the sun's warmth. Buffleheads and Surf Scoters bobbed in the water and took off in a hurry when a seal appeared. Gulls soared on the air currents.

Sunlit filtering through the trees is so lovely. And I think my husband is a fine sight, too. He likes to carry his pack even on short hikes, for practice. He's taken to carrying a extra pounds - of water in a jug -  just for the exercise. 

We found a shelf to sit on, slightly sheltered from the wind, and admired the wind ruffling the waves while we drank our tea. That's a very old thermos - he's had it since high school. The cup that comes along with it cracked and split so we bring along other drinking vessels. 

On another day, a friend came for coffee. I made orange scones that disappeared quickly. To a regular scone recipe I added about 2 teaspoons of grated orange rind, and then made a thin glaze with orange juice and icing sugar. 

I couldn't resist this bouquet of white tulips and blue hyacinths. They were tightly closed a few days ago, and now the tulips are almost done while the hyacinths emit their sweet fragrance. The hyacinths in my garden are barely visible, but soon they too will bloom. It's March and spring can't be far away in spite weather that ranges from hail to rain to snow and sun. 

Have a beautiful weekend!

Tell Me What You Read

 

"I declare after all there is no enjoyment 

quite like reading."

Jane Austen

In my last post I mentioned a book list posted by Brenda of It's a Beautiful Life. I've had a fun couple of days pondering my own responses to her prompts, and here they are. I'd love to read your book choices, too, either in the comments or on your own blog. Or even your answers to one or two of the prompts. 

1. A favourite (or two or three) from your childhood: The Bobbsey Twins series, Nancy Drew series, Eight Cousins and Little Women by Louisa May Alcott, Nurses Who Led the Way, The Secret Garden, Pippi Longstocking

2. A book you read once that you can't stop thinking about: Time at the Top by Edward Ormondroyd - This was my first foray into time travel and it fascinated me. The book had an unusual yellow binding so it was easy to find on the O shelf in our school library. I did read it many times, not just once, and still think about it from time to time. 

3. One book that shaped your life: Hidden Art by Edith Schaeffer

4. A book you couldn't put down: Our Woman in Moscow by Beatriz Williams

5. A book that deepened your thinking: Walking on Water by Madeleine L'Engle, Gift from the Sea by Anne Morrow Lindbergh, A Long Obedience by Eugene Peterson

6. A book with a favourite heroine: I've always liked Emily, found in L. M. Montgomery's books. Emily of New Moon is a more complex character than Anne of Green Gables, much as I admire Anne.

7. A book that creates a safe place when you need rest in your soul: Anything by Miss Read

8. A book that lifts your spirits and makes you feel happy: The Enchanted April, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society

9. Something you want to read but haven't got to it yet: A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens. I've read others of his, but not that one.

10. A book you like to read over and over: Frenchman's Creek by Daphne du Maurier in the summer, and Winter Solstice by Rosamunde Pilcher in the winter. 

11. A book you just finished and loved: Startle and Illuminate: Carol Shields on Writing by her daughter and grandson, Anne Giardini and Nicholas Giardini

12. A book you just started and already know you like: Not sure what to answer here. I just started a so-so book, but I'm picking up The Reading List by Sarah Nisha Adams at the library tomorrow and I'm looking forward to that one. 

"The magic is only in what books say, how they stitched 

the patches of the universe into one garment for us."

Faber in Fahrenheit 451

by Ray Bradbury

Quiet Rain on Sunday Afternoon

 

Outside my window: Rain blew against the windows much of the night and into today. Trees still toss outside and the rain is a fine mist that comes and goes. Patches of yellow daffodils dot the brown garden, bright and cheery on a dull-sky day. Those patches increase every year as I plant a few more bulbs each spring. I really must take a photo to see just where those clumps will appear, for in the autumn planting season there is no sign of them at all.

I am thinking about books. My friend Brenda put up a post sharing some of her favourite books on a variety of topics and encouraged her readers to create their own lists. I'll likely put up a post later this week. I shudder to think of a life without books. 

One of my favourite things is a quiet Sunday afternoon, like today. I feel no compunction to accomplish anything. As a child, Sundays were for church in the morning followed by a lovely dinner often shared with company. Sometimes I would invite a friend to spend the afternoon and we would play quietly with paper dolls, colouring, or creating something. We couldn't be too boisterous. After a simple supper we would return to church for the evening service and my friend would go home with her family. 

Morning church is still a part of our weekly routine that I very much enjoy and look forward to. However, the custom of inviting people for dinner has disappeared, unless we invite family. After I had children I wondered who on earth thought that a 7 pm service on a Sunday evening was a good idea. Keeping little ones up past their bedtime made for a terrible Monday. I'm very glad that evening services have also gone by the wayside. 

In my garden the peonies are beginning to push up from the ground. It's amazing to think of the potential in those small red buds. Soon elegantly ruffled pink and white peonies will nod in the sunshine. Such a delight to anticipate. 

Now the creamy white Hellebores bloom and a hint of the dark pink variety are seen in the background. I love the way they bloom on and on until the days are sunny and warm. 

It makes me smile to watch the birds at the feeder and suet block. There is a Downy Woodpecker couple who come regularly, never at the same time, he with his red head-patch, and she without. Do they have a nest nearby? I wonder. A Chestnut-backed Chickadee contorts to get the best position for feeding. 

I am finding beauty in the papery dried tulip petals from a bunch I had last week. I let them dry in the vase knowing that a work of natural art would result. And so it did. 

In the kitchen I'm planning to make Mary Berry's Chicken and Herb Casserole, found on Jan's blog. Alongside I'll make rice to soak up all the lovely sauce, and some broccoli and cauliflower, along with a salad. 

I am reading a lot of non-fiction these days. Memoirs, mostly as I plug along with my own attempt. 

Thank you for reading along today. It's time for me to start some dinner preparations. 

Have a beautiful week. 

Hopeful Signs

Have you noticed how much brighter the days are? Even on the rainy, cold days we're experiencing there is a sense of lightness that assures us that winter will end soon. I grew up living much further north where winter's grip held tight throughout February. Here, in the mildest climate in Canada, I can hardly complain, yet I find February a difficult month - I'm tired of my winter clothes, I want to get into the garden, and I long for colour. I crave vegetables and bright flavours like lemon and herbs. 

I indulged in purchasing several small pots of bulbs that are a wee bit ahead of what's currently blooming in my garden. Blue and yellow is such a wonderful combination, cheery and bright. After they bloom these bulbs will be buried in the garden and bring joy year after year. 

The lilac trees are beginning to bud and will soon be in full leaf followed by scented blooms. When I walk around my garden, boots squelching in the wet ground, I see so many signs of life - on hydrangeas, roses, rhubarb, the apricot tree, peonies, and more. I've begun a bit of pruning and cutting back and will be out there more when things warm up just a wee bit more. Sharp tulip and hyacinth leaves jut up from the soil. The dwarf daffodils are forming buds and beginning to open. I spent a happy hour or so choosing my garden seeds in the local nursery. All of these little things remind me that spring is not far off. 

About this second month of the year Patience Strong wrote, "While it is February, one can taste the full joys of anticipation. Spring stands at the gate with her finger on the latch." Anticipation, yes. There are still weeks to go before spring arrives here, and anticipation is building. How is February in your corner? 

 

To the Beach

 

A trip to the west coast of our island was on the calendar for Valentine's Day and the weather cooperated. The cool air made me glad for my down jacket, toque, and gloves, but no rain fell and the sun played peek-a-boo for a couple of hours. 

The time to visit Botanical Beach is at low tide, and that was scheduled for 10:30. 

A short hike down the wide trail from the parking lot, followed by a walk through the forest where tangled roots, curved trees growing across the path, and a bit of mud took us to the beach. 

Although the tide wasn't particularly low, we found plenty of tide pools to explore. It's fascinating to kneel and peer into them and the longer we peer the more we see.

Prickly purple sea urchins, pink coral, silvery-blue mussels, tiny fish, and more inhabit this coast. Unfortunately the sea urchins are decimating kelp forests. It's a delicate balance, and one of the urchin's few natural predators, the sea otter, was hunted in the last century, allowing the urchins to proliferate. 

In the far distance the mountains of the Olympic Peninsula are visible. Pewter-coloured pools reflect sun and clouds.

A look down the coastline - harsh and rugged, but beautiful. 

Herons are one of my favourite birds. This one posed so well, not too far away from us, and then the sun came out. His beak is a perfect match to the light filtering through the pieces of kelp. 

A breeze ruffled the water while we gazed into a tidal pool and I thought the refracted patterns looked like an abstract piece of art. 

The tide changed and water rushed in upon the shore. We moved towards the forest once again. Halfway between sea and forest someone had placed an empty urchin shell on a tree stump, perfectly posed for a photo. 

It may not have been a traditional Valentine's Day outing, but we had a wonderful time together. 

On a Quiet Sunday

 

The light today is dull and cloudy. A good day for indoor pursuits. Four loaves of rye bread are currently baking in the oven and filling the house with a wonderful fragrance. No caraway seed in my rye bread - that's one flavour I'm not at all fond of. 

Earlier this week the sun shone for a short while. I captured a crocus open to the light in spite of the shadows over it. 

We had a waffle brunch for our grandson's birthday yesterday and I picked a few hellebores and snowdrops and nestled them in some of the abundant moss growing in our garden for the table. The Fire and Ice pink hellebores are blooming merrily, and the creamy ones are still quite low to the ground, but with lots of buds. Patience needed. 

As part of the "unch" part of brunch yesterday, I made a roasted squash salad with apples, toasted pecans, sliced Granny Smith apples, dried cranberries, and goat cheese. The big platter disappeared to the last leafy green. 

The flooring is complete, and all the baseboards and trim installed. I'm very pleased with how it all came together. This room is where we visit with family and friends, but also spend most evenings reading, stitching, or watching television. There is light and warmth, and in the evening we draw the blinds and are cozy in our space. More art will be hung, but I'm taking my time with that. 

The light rain seems to have mostly stopped. As soon as the bread is out of the oven, we're going for a walk, then home to supper and a quiet evening to round out the day. 

Light Increases by the Minute

 

Darkness continues to dominate, but slowly, slowly the light is gaining. Tomorrow's sunrise is a full five minutes before today's. That's progress! The ducks were very happy paddling around in the bog on a clear afternoon. I love the long reflections in the water and the monochrome effect of the grasses. 

More snowdrops are popping up in my own garden. This pleases me as I'm hoping, one day, for a large patch of them. I see their nodding white heads from my kitchen window, bright against the mostly brown background. 

The first hellebores were a bit battered by the snowfall a couple of weeks ago and now new buds are opening. The white ones are still a bit behind, but showing good progress. 

Gladys Taber wrote, "There is, I have found, at least one good or lovely thing in every single day. Everyone has sorrow, endures difficult times, but loveliness abides if we look for it." Looking for the lovely things is a practice to develop, akin to thankfulness. 

In my garden today the tiny tiny mosses, much amplified in the photo above, are so intricate, even to the little hairs poking up from each petal. Amazing creations!

Inspecting the garden was a good thing today, but at just 5 degrees, a bit chilly for a lengthy stay. For my birthday a few months ago I received an orchid plant. It's been a delight ever since with such long-lasting flowers. 

I never really liked orchids, preferring the blossoms more suited to our Canadian climate. When I lived in the tropics, I grew to appreciate the wide variety of orchids, from the large showy purple and white variety that grew profusely beside the road to the tiny 1/4 inch flowers forming huge clumps in trees for just a week or two in September-October. This orchid reminds me of those days and I can almost feel the intense humidity of the jungle when I look at them. 

Are you a fan of orchids?