A Spring Metaphor

Imagine starting out in life like this... as a magnolia tree's soft finger tip, reaching out to touch the sweet restorative spring air to sense if it is time to open. And when you get too warm for your winter coat, your downy pod gently opens and delicate pedals reach out, fragrant and receptive to the varying shades of daylight. You are a new flowering fledgling, born of fuzz, evolving into feathery white wings, elegantly perched upon the limb of a most beautiful tree.
That would be a life, most divine.

The Reward for Patience

I have been wishing upon every stray snowflake that I would wake up one morning to a cumulation of winter white. And this was my morning. Finally! I was beginning to think it wouldn't happen, but the snow gods have apparently heard my incessant begging and pleading, and graced us with a real taste of winter.

My car is stranded at the bottom of our very long and steep driveway, and it looks like it will stay there for several more days. So, I took my camera outside my front door where I could hear the hummingbirds chattering in the rhododendrons. I make sure to keep them fed this time of year when their little bodies need it most, and they get quite aggressive as they fight for rights to the feeder. If only I could reason with them and tell them that there is plenty for everyone.

I could hear this sweet little one muttering her annoyance with the snow, but it took me a while to find her amongst the heavy white branches. But there she was, in a little opening, perched upon a tiny twig, watching me as I watched her. She allowed me to get quite close...perhaps a favour for keeping her belly full.

Tomorrow, I might wander further than my front door. I must take every opportunity to capture the snow before these beautiful crystals turn to water and wash away all signs of a fleeting winter. The hummingbirds will be grateful to see it go, but I am happy as a wobbly penguin on this long awaited snow day.

Words are my Elixir

It has been a quiet weekend. I've been sniffling through a cold, taking it slow, withdrawing from the world, spending a good deal of my time with an open book in my hand. This is what happens when you work with kids....they are bug magnets, and sooner or later, no matter how healthy my lifestyle, I get bugged.  Thank goodness it is mild. And I am grateful that the worst of it occurred during the weekend, when I had lot's of time to slow down and let my body heal, without the pressures of having to go to work. I'll worry about that tomorrow. Hopefully one more good night sleep will lessen the angst.

For now, I can lose myself in other netherworlds. Stories on the page, stories on film...oh, I love a good story. The stories inside my dreams have been pretty astonishing as well. Last night, I found myself in a place I go to often in my dreams, gazing up toward a massive swirl of stars, churning quickly as though caught in a whirlpool in the twilight sky....not quite dark, but dark enough to take in this faint and glimmering celestial wonder. I wasn't afraid, and I was the only one in my dream that seemed to notice that this was unusual and extremely beautiful. I know so much else happened during this dream...I can grasp a feeling or distant memory for a few seconds, but then it eludes me. How frustrating. I should have written it down this morning. But I never do....and I always forget.

I am glad for these little escapes into story when the body feels so crumby and uncomfortable. The mind can take us places and help us forget about reality for a little while. And hopefully a cup of warm tea will help me forget about my nagging cough. sigh.

Romancing the Senses

I come to you with hearts and kisses...not just because I love you, my friends... but because I want to romance you.

One of my favourite authors, Sarah Ban Breathnach writes that love is the emotion. Romance is the evocative expression. Hmm..I love that.

A loving partner is not needed in my life to feel that my days are filled with romance. Little whims of it infiltrate my senses as the hours pass...

I see it in the sun rising over the ocean from my bedroom window, coaxing me away from my pillows, promising a day of new and unforeseen becomings.

I taste it in the cinnamon sprinkled generously upon my morning chai.

It sounds like the beautiful silence within my walls, and outside my open window.... and then the humorous break in that silence as I listen to the creaks and gurgles that come from my bunny's tummy as he drinks from his water bowl.

I smell it in the rain....the moist coastal air reaches deep within my lungs and fills them with dripping cloud.

I feel it in the calming presence of a smooth round stone in my pocket.... a simple object that keeps me grounded and present.

And speaking of stones, I sense it in the uncanny way I keep finding perfectly heart shaped stones amongst thousands of other surrounding stones, the same size and colour. I refuse to believe that this is a coincidence.

These are just fragments of one simple ordinary day. And how romantic it is, if I stay open to it.
But this special day will soon be charmed by the sinking of my teeth into a sweet and sugary cupcake, and perhaps a walk by the seashore...and a tossing of that smooth stone back into the waters where it first resided. It will be replaced by another. And then another...

And when this day begins to close its eyes forever, I will take pleasure in one last bout of romance.... the soft letting go... the abandonment of wakefulness as I fall into dream, trusting my bed to keep me warm and safe as I adventure into the night. Romance does not die with the fading day. The moon can be just as flirtatious.

Did the Snowdrops Tremble?

I woke up late this morning and stayed under the covers, thinking for a great while about what I wanted to write about. I had this sweet little image of snowdrops that I took yesterday and wanted to post, but I had no words. My thoughts were then interrupted by a gentle shake. Then about three seconds of low rumble, and then another quick shake. No one had a hand on my shoulder trying to rouse me out of sleep.... my house was shaking.

I live in an area that is very earthquake prone. I have experienced 5 or 6 of them since moving here ten years ago...each one very different. I remember way back when I started blogging, I wrote a post about how much I loved little earthquakes. Just the little ones, because they were kind of exciting. My feelings have changed over the last few years. We islanders know that we live on a massive fault line...and that we are overdue for a big one. And I mean Big... a 9 or so on the richter scale. And while I know that this could happen anytime between now and the next 200 years, when I hear a low sound or feel any kind of vibration, my body freezes, and my heart starts to race.

I absolutely love living here. I couldn't imagine leaving. But I hate living in fear over this pending doom. It's not a question of if it will happen, but when. And considering I want to grow old here, chances are, I will probably experience one major shaker in my lifetime.

But you know, despite the fear, I have always wanted to experience the feel of an earthquake under my bare feet. I wish I could know when the next one is about to happen so I can go outside and stand in a field and feel the earth literally move under my feet. What would that feel like? Would the grass roll under my arches like the thumbs of a masseuse? Or would it be more of a tremble? Better yet, what would it feel like to lie down on my back? Would I be calm enough to do this? Probably not. I figure, a field would be an ideal place to be though. No trees or buildings to fall on you, and as long as the earth doesn't crack open and create a canyon right under you, what could go wrong?

If only I was psychic and could predict the timing of these things. For now, I will take the little 3.4 quake we just had, and be grateful it was so small. It was just the thing to get my lazy butt out of bed this morning.