Wonder

Long before dawn I stand at the window in the den and look up at the moon. It seems especially bright and beautiful in the south west sky. My imagination flits about, and I think about the ancients and the superstition and stories they crafted around this light in the night. I expect that among these

Moonlight

I peer out the window over top of the blind in the den and see a cul de sac bathed in light. It’s not the artificial light of streetlights, (They’re off. I’ve never been able to figure out the schedule they operate on.) but the ethereal glow of moonlight. I knew the moon was full

Late Winter

We think about taking the dogs for a walk in the sunshine after lunch but the wind kicks up again. Instead, we leave the pups at home and go for a drive. We stop by the community garden for the first time this year and see nothing reaching through the straw covered area where we

A Little Fatigued

It’s noticeable. Dawn comes earlier and dusk, later. We’re on the other side of the recent cold snap , tiptoeing ever closer to spring. There’s still a ways to go, and spring fever hasn’t kicked in yet, but there’s a sense of coming through that’s undeniable. Meanwhile, we’re still jigsaw-ing and enjoying multiple daily chess

Change

The cold snap eases its grip slightly, begrudgingly, giving in to the inevitability of change. If we hadn’t rocked over our front flower bed last year, I imagine I would have seen the green of brave crocuses by now. They would have been covered by snow, and uncovered again, and I’d marvel at their tenacity

There’s a Lot of Loud

There’s a lot of loud distracting and drowning out. But I’m convinced by wisdom clothed in stillness. The kind of truth found hiding in plain sight in ordinary things and extraordinary moments. A word in season. Eye contact. The scrape of a paring knife on a potato. A pile of peels. A man standing at a

Hope and Expectation

I’m feeling a little overextended. Sounds odd, because I’m home more often than not, but the connected world we live in means it’s possible to have a full-ish plate without even venturing out. I say “full-ish” because what feels heavy to me might be nothing to someone else. And that’s okay. We’re allowed to be

Cold

It has been a very mild winter so far here in the interior of British Columbia. Occasional bouts of snow that melts almost as quickly as it arrives, mild temperatures, and a good measure of sunshine. No complaints here. But this week we’re experiencing a polar vortex and for those, like me, who have become

These Days

These days I go slow and give myself permission to put balls down. Juggling was never my forte anyway. I’m still jigsaw puzzling, leaning in to the therapy of hours spent putting pieces in place and making something from the chaos of random shapes and colours. I do my best to listen, even when I struggle

Just a Tree

I’m thinking about this weeping willow tree this morning. It lives in a park on the other side of the city—my favourite park in the area, one fat with memories and history. Over the course of forty years, I’ve walked in it and wept in it, ridden a bike along its paths, cheered at my