Breathing Space

I’m sitting here listening to the sweet sound of rain. RAIN! At long last! The heavy weight of fire season is still with us but with many alerts and orders being rescinded and fires being brought under control, there is an easing of the burden. Skies, though not completely smoke free, are clear enough to

Birdsong

3:53. That’s what time the birds woke up this morning. I know this because I was awake, trying to sort out the details of a disturbing and convoluted dream I had just escaped from. The sound of birdsong wiped the dream from my thoughts and I just listened while one loud bird announced daybreak to

Gray and magical. It’s possible.

I stand at the  living room window, while my coffee brews and my soy milk heats, downcast at the gray. I’m hungry for sunshine and heat. Resigned to another cloudy day, I wander into the den. (Or, snug, as I’ve started thinking of it. Gerry and I have been watching Escape to the Country, a British

Random Morning Thoughts

It’s that magical time of year when every day I see new growth in the garden. We’re eating beautiful and delicious lettuce now. I’m going to pull the rest of the spinach before it bolts and use some of it in a lasagne. I thinned the carrots, and am doing the same with the Hakurei turnips,

A Certain Cadence

Outside my kitchen window, the surprise brightness of a crescent moon high in the east gives me pause in my morning coffee making routine, and I whisper an involuntary “oh!”. Later, with my hands wrapped around a warm mug, I stand at the living room window and look to the east to see what kind

Liminal

It’s not yet dawn when I stand at our living room window, mug of soy milky frothy coffee in hand, and look to the east. The sky above the distant mountains is pink and, with subtle brilliance, growing ever more mesmerizing. I know, having watched countless sunrises, that the brilliance will reach a peak, then

Surprise

We wake to snow. Just a dusting on the hills and the rooftops, but snow, nonetheless. We were warned by the evening weather forecast so it’s not a complete surprise, and it won’t stick around so there’s nothing to grumble about. It’s amusing, more than anything. I look up at the pale blue sky that’s dotted with

Another Hopeful Monday

My girls return home, a freak snowstorm blows through, and it’s Monday again—the last one in  March and the start of Holy Week. This morning I’m pondering taxes (ugh) and watercolour and words and books and dogs and the general topsy-turvyness that is 2021. Those, and a week like none other. And, in the midst