Of Little Things that Gladden the Heart

"There is not one blade of grass, there is

no color in this world

that is not intended to make us rejoice."

John Calvin

The crocuses and cyclamen that appeared before our great snowfall three weeks ago have recovered remarkably well. These bright days, full of cold sunshine, lift my spirits and give me energy. 

White-crowned Sparrow

Our weekend was a quiet one as Tim arrived home from a business trip on Friday night with a bad cold. Lots of soup and hot lemon tea are on the menu. I made a carrot soup with ginger, onion, and garlic, all blended together that was quite delicious. 

Dark-eyed Junco

The weekend was also a bit of a technology jolt for me. I've been avoiding getting a new phone because it's wasteful to replace one every two years, and because I despise fiddling with getting technology set up. On Saturday I put on my big girl pants and did the deed. It's another I-phone, not the latest by any means, but with more storage than my former phone. The salesman helped me transfer everything over, however, at home I had to sign into all my accounts once again. Passwords! Too many passwords! Frustration compounded! 

American Robin

We're planning a trip to Europe this summer and I decided that I wanted a smaller camera to slip into my pocket rather than take my mirrorless camera with interchangeable lenses. I did some research and chose another Panasonic camera. It's well-rated, and the learning curve is small as it's very similar to my larger camera. It arrived on Saturday. What I didn't expect was the incredible zoom it has. The first photo, of the Sparrow, was taken at its full extent, and I can see that without a tripod, the quality is poor. Technology can be amazing and frustrating at the same time! 

Tim felt well enough to keep our plans for dinner with new-ish friends last night. Six of us sat around the table getting to know each other better. I made White Chicken Chili shared by Penny from Enjoying the Simple Things several years ago. I make a few adaptations and it's become a favourite around here.

What little things have gladdened your heart recently? 

Linking with Mosaic Monday, hosted by Angie of Letting Go of the Bay Leaf.  

An Evening Walk

Warning! Picture-heavy post! 

Hot summery weather arrived this past weekend. Temperatures soared into the 80s. We're loving it! This evening I took a walk in Butchart Gardens. These are some of the sights I saw. There are plenty more and I'll share the rose garden on its own. 

Hanging baskets, rows and rows of them, adorn one area of the garden. The fuschias and begonias hang at about 6 feet, maybe a bit more, enabling great views of the blossoms. 

When I got to the Sunken Garden a grin formed on my face and didn't leave. I had the entire thing TO MYSELF! At the height of summer the paths are streams of people, oohing and aahing and clicking away. It's great to see everyone enjoying the sights, but to have it to myself was so special. I felt like I could be wearing a trailing gown and swanning about like the Crawleys of Downton Abbey. What a gift!

Even the garbage and recycling containers have flowers on them. 

Fragrant Sweet Williams wafted their scent on the air. Mass plantings of white with purples, lavenders and dark pinks made striking beds.

Half a dozen American Robins busied themselves on a patch of lawn. As I began snapping photos, this friendly robin scuttled closer and closer. I think he wanted to show me his catch. See how the worms are wrapped all around his beak? Will he eat them, or is he taking them home for Mrs. Robin to prepare for dinner? 

This Eight-Spotted Skimmer (Libellula forensis) posed most obligingly for me on a plant along the path. I watched her for a long time, admiring the shimmery lines on her wings.

Evenings are long these days - this was taken around 8 pm. Shadows lengthen, but above the tree line the sun still shines brightly.

One clematis, of a type I don't recognize, but striking for its geometry and colouring.

Just one rose, glowing in the evening light. 

As I drove out of the gardens, I met a tour bus going in - cruise ship passengers are in town and Butchart Gardens is one excursion. The staff in the gift shop told me they were expecting them. They'll have a wonderful stroll. 

Spare Beauty

Grey. Austere. Bleak. January can be all of these. It's certainly grey around here. So grey that distinguishing colour in the landscape can be difficult. 

Yesterday I took a quick walk around the Bog. Robins sang in the trees; they don't mind the lack of leaves. 
 

January forces me to look a bit harder, to notice the small things. Moss and lichen cluster on branches, a muted harmony of texture and neutral colour.
 

A Dark-eyed Junco perches in a tangle of twigs, cocking his head and eyeing me warily. I long to hold his soft feathered body in my hands, just for a moment.
 

This Bewick's Wren flitted from low branch to low branch, finally landing in a muddle of grass. How well he blends with the landscape. But, there, do you see them - green blades among the brown?
 

I stopped to watch the ducks, as I often do, and felt a bit like a voyeuse. It's courting season on the pond - delicate head bobbing, a bit of neck entwining, and finally mating. Not long now before ducklings!
 

Another pair of mallards taking a nap, heads buried deep in feathers. It doesn't look very comfortable to me, but to each her/his own.
 

Queen Anne's Lace, delicate and fragile, yet it stands in wind and rain, on tall graceful stalks that hold the promise of life deep beneath the earth. Elegant, austere. Beautiful.

"Wait," says January. "Life abounds beneath the surface. Have faith. Hold fast."

What is there that is beautiful in your January world?