Thursday, May 23, 2013

Snoozing on the Chives

I thought I couldn't love bumblebees any more than I already do, until they decided to move in next door and make bumblebee babies! I have a hive of new neighbours living right outside my bedroom window. They made their new digs out of an abandoned robin's nest that has been lying vacant within the twisty vines of a clematis. The once hollow shell has been filled with feathers and other little bits and bobs and now resembles a miniature beaver dam... it's quite a sturdy little dwelling. I am fascinated with it all, as well as a little protective. I only wish it was made of glass so I could see what is happening under the surface.

A bumblebee nest is quite different from a honeybee hive. Although it does produce a little bit of honey, it is significantly smaller and quieter, and these sweet docile creatures have no interest in doing any harm, unless their nest is threatened. Even then, I doubt they would ever turn aggressive. All buzz and no bite. They are ideal neighbours. And so cute!

The little one in this photo is not from the nest outside. He was resting on a chive blossom in my mother's garden yesterday. I think this little introvert was trying to escape the mayhem in the flowering plant right next to him... it was completely spilling over with bees.  

I captured a few snaps this weekend between spring showers. Two baby bunnies have moved into the garden, much to my mom's frustration, mowing down everything they can wrap their little teeth around. So adorable, but destructive... and lightning fast! Faster than the capabilities of my shutter button. So instead, I held the stillness, and a little bit of heart, inside my lens for you. May you find this little spot of peace just when you need it, just when the busybee inside of you needs a brief respite.

Sunday, May 5, 2013

Whale Song

I went to the beach late this afternoon, seeking a little quiet after a whirlwind week. As I often do, I took pictures of stones...silent beings they are... the best sort of companions when you are craving silence.  I was thinking to myself, there is a finite number of stones on this planet. What would the final tally be if we had a way to count them? Do we have a word for a number that immense?

I went to the far stretches of the beach, and perched upon a high cluster of rocks so I could look down and feel somewhat surrounded by the water. Amongst the steady drone of boats passing by and the rhythmical lapping of the little waves upon the shore, I heard something else. I heard the distinctive song of a blow hole in the distance.... a whale breathing..... A few minutes later, I heard it again, and then again... so I searched all that rolling water until I finally saw her. Three times I saw the smooth dark shadow of her back come just slightly above the surface, and then slowly slip back under as she made her way along the horizon line.

Those slow deep breaths. It was almost as though her heart was in synch with the heavy ocean swells that enveloped and supported her. What a gift, and a gentle reminder to take time to slow down and breathe when the world begins to spin a little quicker than normal. Inhale... Exhale... Repeat.

Wednesday, May 1, 2013

The Language of Colour

It was sort of sticking out of the ground at a weird angle, this crooked old tap. It was in a neglected part of a large garden. And that colour took hold of my attention far more than any surrounding flora or fauna. How odd that a chunk of metal could have that kind of power... nature almost always gets my heart above all other things.

I saw a picture of an artist's studio, whose walls were this shade of blue. Actually, the walls and ceiling were mostly glass... but between the small panes and on the back wall, this colour illuminated the whole room with whimsy and playfulness. How it must stir and delight an artist's imagination, to be surrounded on all sides by such a delicious hue.

I want to take a bite out of that blue. Lick it like a frozen popsicle. Swim in it.

If only I lived in a space that could support this kind of brilliance without it being overwhelming. I did paint this weekend. And there's no question this little tap played a roll in inspiring me to choose some new wall colours. I am now fully enveloped in the soft breath of powder blue and the slightest suggestion of muted green that shifts with the evolving light of day. The walls really do seem like they are breathing. So very gentle and soothing. These subtle tones speak a language my soul understands and responds to in the quietest of ways. No doubt, colour has a deep effect on our psyches.

My indoor spaces have come to life, glowing from the inside out, synching beautifully with the emergence of spring. Everything feels fresh and new again.