Grounding

I must have known it at some point but the knowledge that the sun rises due east on only the spring and fall equinoxes and that now, as we approach the summer solstice it’s more northeast, faded. Watching the sun rise over the hill on the other side of the ridge this morning confuses me.

Leisurely Sunday

“Are you ready for church?” I call downstairs. ”Yup. Be right there,” Gerry calls back. And like we’ve done every Sunday for the past ten weeks, we gather in the den where I work some magic to get my phone display to broadcast on the big screen TV and we have church. Afterward, we talk

Aromatherapy

I carry baby tomato plants in a small box on my lap while Gerry drives to the community garden. My hands brush across their leaves. The scent of hope wafts from them. The plants have been growing in my laundry room since I dropped tiny seeds into pots in early April, unmotivated, with barely enough

Tulips

The round glass vase of tulips has been on the dining table for a couple of topsy-turvy weeks. I push them to one end when I put placemats out before a meal or when we sit down to play a game. We watch them go from tight waxy buds to bright and beautiful flowers and, for

Welcome March

We take a walk in my favourite park—the one where ghosts of boys playing baseball and girls wrapped in pink toddle in and out of a building that’s no longer there. Gerry’s been sick and to combat cabin fever we drive across town to the park rather than down the hill to church. Worship looks

Wizened Petals

Gerry brought them home a week or so ago: loud, brash looking tulips. I pulled out my camera, affixed my macro lens, and shot a few images—knowing I’d convert them to black and white in post processing. They were too much for the calm I hungered for. Now they’re long past their prime and there’s

Exceedingly Well

It’s been an unexpected whirlwind week. Yesterday afternoon, I sat in my wing chair, reading and highlighting, while beet pickles processed in the canner. Content,  I looked over at my open kitchen with its tidy counters and big blue Ball canner boiling on the stove. We picked the last of the beets the day prior