Tuesday Evening Thoughts

 

Outside my window the pale blue sky is fading. A sharp wind tosses branches and flower stems to and fro. On dry afternoons it's becoming my habit to step inside the house, change my shoes, and set off on a little walk before returning to prepare dinner. Today I added a pink floral scarf tucked into the neckline to keep that chilly wind at bay. Pink seems to be the colour of the day with the blossoming of another variety of prunus trees. 

These full double blossoms are a froth of pink, and with the wind, pink "snowflakes" are falling and beginning to drift along the roadsides. I'm so glad we have this kind of "snow" rather than the chillier white stuff others are experiencing. 

Warmer weather over the weekend had us working in the garden. Since we took out the hedge, Tim's erected a not-so-pretty chain link fence. We've moved a magnolia tree and a rhododendron bush from the front garden, and after two months they seem to be doing fine. We'll keep them well-watered over the coming months. I've had a hankering for a birch tree and found a paper birch with multiple stems that will hopefully grow into a clumping birch. 

Tiny sprouts of spinach, radish, lettuce, and arugula are appearing in the garden bed; such itty-bitty slivers of green that will grow into lush plants. I'm always amazed by the potential in those little seeds. It's a yearly miracle. 

Soon the fawn lilies will die back, but in the shaded woodland path I take, they continue to dot the ground like stars. Bluebells now step to the forefront. 

Blaise Pascal wrote, "In difficult times, carry something beautiful in your heart." On Easter Sunday, the house was filled with family. The children played indoors and out. At one point little 16-month Cora disappeared. She loves the stairs so I went up to find her. She was there and greeted me with a big smile. In her hand was a glittered egg pick she had pulled from the vase of flowers on the hall table by reaching through the stair railing. Like a little sprite she waved the glittery egg back and forth, happy as a lark. When I find traces of glitter, the memory of her little face and waving arms makes me smile. 

My reading has been mostly dipping in and out of books lately. I read Patti Callahan's novel "Once Upon a Wardrobe" and loved it so much that as soon as I finished it I turned back to the beginning and read it again, more slowly. It's a wonderful book for lovers of Narnia, Oxford, and C.S. Lewis.

I took a couple of cookbooks from the library. When I began "A Table for Friends" I wasn't very impressed. Roast Chicken, Roast Lamb, etc was how the book began and there was not much inspiration. Then I came to the sides, and discovered several new ideas for vegetables. I do love vegetables, more than fruit, truth to be told.  

I'm getting my garden beds ready for spring and summer planting, so I pulled the last few leeks and made an adaptation of her Creamy Leeks with Mustard and Parmesan. My version included less cream and mustard, and we found it very tasty. 

I picked the first rhubarb of the season, chopped it up and cooked with a little sugar. It's in a jar in the fridge, and lovely to eat with plain yogurt. Seasonal food is such a treat.

This has turned out to be a long and meandering post. I'll close with these little daisies dotting lawns all along my walk today. Iris loves to pick them and make bouquets, and I have one of hers in my kitchen. That's another bit of beauty that I carry with me. There is so much beauty when I am attentive to my surroundings. 

Wishing you joy and delightful moments. 

Blossom Time

 

From my sofa this past week, I've watched the plum tree on the street become fuller with white blossoms. I'm feeling much better and thank you all for your kind thoughts. And, I've been getting out a bit, even to taking some photos of the blossoms. 

Across the street from the plum tree are a couple of cherry trees, and they, too, are filled with frothy blossoms. Their anthers look as though they are tipped with gold, even in these rather glum cloudy and drizzly days. 

How delicate they are, true harbingers of springtime. Beauty like this reaches deep inside my heart and hugs it with gentle warmth. An anonymous writer says, "It always pays to dwell slowly on the beautiful things, and the more beautiful, the more slowly." 

When my heart is heavy, beauty consoles and gives hope. A Ukrainian woman I follow on Facebook writes every day about her situation. She has a daughter, who, just last week, gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. In the midst of the horror and anguish of war, this family chooses to focus on the lovely miracle and hope of a new little life, born into such inauspicious times. 

Beauty doesn't negate the war, or any tragedy, but I believe it does help me to step away mentally or physically and give myself a bit of breathing space.

Food is also a comfort. After several days of soothing soups, I saw this recipe from Love and Lemons, and knew it was just what I wanted. Citrus, crunch, avocado, roasted fennel, and parmesan cheese combined for a fresh salad that really tasted good. 

The everyday routines of cleaning, cooking, and gardening provide structure for days when my mind is scattered by troubles near and far. 

One last photo of the cherry blossoms. I pray that you will find beauty in your world, beauty to let soak into your soul, and give you comfort. 

A November Sunday

 

"There are so many kinds of loveliness" Barney says to Valancy in L.M.Montgomery's The Blue Castle. The coloured leaves have almost all fallen in the woods, leaving a thousand shades of green and brown to see in plenteous evergreens, moss-covered branches, and forest paths. On cloudy mornings the forest is framed by pewter skies that often turn to dark grey before the rain begins.

We shared the care for two of our grandchildren this weekend with their other grandparents while their parents took a few days away together. In my previous post I mentioned taking the kids to Goldstream Park. Today, along with Tim, we went to Tod Inlet, in the morning, before the rainy afternoon.

A few golden leaves cling to branches, but they are becoming fewer and fewer. In the photo you can see the smokestack from the kiln producing tiles and pottery, run by the Butchart family. This park lies alongside the Butchart Gardens. The stack is crumbling bit by bit and I wonder how much longer it will stand. 

The inlet water appears green, reflecting dense coniferous growth. It's a quiet anchorage; and today we saw four boats at anchor. Gulls wheeled silently, white wings catching the light. The old pilings have been repurposed with birdhouses on each one to encourage purple martins to nest and flourish. The gulls use them as convenient perches, too. 

Eagle-eyed Tim saw this Varied Thrush in a tree, and I was able to capture a few photos of him. A lovely sight to see. 

Now in late afternoon, dark rain is falling, beating against the windows and rushing in the gutters. It's a Pineapple Express, bringing with it warm air from the Pacific. How glad I am for the coziness of home. I sit in a pool of light writing this post and am utterly content. 

The children came for breakfast this morning, and I made Creamy Eggs for them. It's a dish that I make the night before and then bake in the morning, and is easily adaptable for more people. Make-ahead breakfasts are my favourites. With it I served scones and fruit. 

Lovely landscapes, lovely grandchildren, a lovely home - these are the things that filled me this weekend. What kind of loveliness is in your world?

In a Field of Sunflowers

 

I have had a heavy heart these past few days. So much of the world seems spectacularly broken. I ache for the people of Haiti, and for those in Afghanistan, particularly the women and girls, and I feel so very helpless. Wildfires continue to roar across our province, devouring towns, homes, and hectares and hectares of forest. A most unnecessary election has been called in my country, and Covid cases rise in the unvaccinated population. Our Iranian friends are very sad because her mother is currently in ICU in Iran, and A feels very far away from her family. There are few vaccines available there. Logic and common sense seem to have fled the world. 

And yet. 

In my garden there is a profusion of beauty - hydrangeas, roses, zinnias, dahlias, cosmos, and more. I go out into the cool morning and pluck green beans from the climbing vines and peer under huge squash leaves to discover zucchini that seem to have exploded overnight. The tomatoes are, at last, beginning to ripen and I pop a red cherry globe, warm from the sun, into my mouth and sweetness explodes. 

I am grateful for my place in this world. It is a gift that I do not take lightly. 

On Sunday we enjoyed the company of two of our grands while their parents enjoyed a day to themselves to celebrate an anniversary. A new sign along the highway alerted us to a Sunflower Walk, so we thought we'd explore. There were lots of photo opportunities and we had so much fun winding in and out of the tall sunflowers and posing in front of the cut outs. 

Six varieties of sunflowers lifted their faces to the sun. The temperature was not too hot, and not too cold, but just right. 

Does this American Gothic couple look familiar to you? 

The pinkish petals of this sunflower glow against the light and its beauty is juxtaposed alongside the ugliness of world events. How resilient is earth's beauty, and how soothing it is. Beauty does not erase brokenness, but something in me, and in most humans, was created to absorb beauty, and, as Wendell Berry writes to "come into the peace of wild things" and to "rest in the grace of the world." 

Daily beauty lies all around us and calls us to notice. What is beautiful in your world just now?

  

Spring's Ache

 

 "Spring won't et me stay in this house any longer! I must get out and breathe the air deeply again."

Gustav Mahler

Outside my window just now a tiny Anna's Hummingbird flits about the cedar hedge. Tree and hedges sway in the wind. I know it's a chilly wind in spite of the bright sunshine for I was outside thinking I might garden this morning. I think I'll wait until later. A glorious week of warmth and sunny skies is in our forecast, and I couldn't be happier. 

Hendersons Shooting Stars (dodecatheon hendersonii) bloom in a naturalized lawn we pass on our evening walk. They look as though they are ready to take off into the wild blue yonder. 

In the woods just a bit further along, Fawn Lilies (erythronium oregonum) look like stars facing downwards. Most of the ones I see are white, but there are pink and yellow varieties, as well. 

Taking a photo like this requires crouching low to the ground, and I use the tilt feature on my camera to view it. 

Both the shooting star and the fawn lily are native to North America. The shooting star occurs naturally on southern Vancouver Island, the only place it's found in Canada. 

"Spring is nature's way of saying, "Let's party!"

Robin Williams

In my own garden this morning there are many promises being made. Lilacs and columbines form tight buds, blueberries will soon flower, and irrepressible mint is making a great come back from dormancy. Lemon Balm, strawberries, cornflowers and more are bursting with life. Soon there will be an explosion!

"Pretty? Oh, pretty doesn't seem to be the right word to use. Nor beautiful, either. They don't go far enough. Oh, it was wonderful - wonderful. It's the first thing I ever saw that couldn't be improved upon by imagination. It just satisfies me here" - she put one hand on her breast - "it made a queer funny ache and yet it was a pleasant ache. Did you ever have an ache like that, Mr. Cuthbert?"

said by Anne in L. M. Montgomery's Anne of Green Gables

I go out of my way to see this tree on my walks. It's awash with swoon-worthy blooms. This is its high season, lush with soft white and barely pink petals. I can't get enough of it. Like Anne above, it makes my heart ache with its beauty. 

"The books or the music in which we thought the beauty was located will betray us if we trust to them; it was not in them, it only came through them, and what came through them was longing...

For they are not the thing itself; they are only the scent of a flower we have not found, the echo of a tune we have not heard, news from a country we have not yet visited." 

C. S. Lewis (The Weight of Glory)

This ache of beauty, this longing, reminds me that we are spiritual beings with a desire for something beyond ourselves - for God. It reminds me that that I am merely human. 

One last prunus branch reaching up in evening light to the sky. It's truly a wonderful world, complex and full of brokenness, but utterly magical. Spring magic is some of the very best there is. 

What kind of promises is spring making in your corner? 

Finding Beauty in the Everyday

"This is a wonderful day. I have never seen this one before."
Maya Angelou

 Outside my window this morning two trees, one blooming in pink, other other in white, toss in the wind, and the occasional petal flies through the air. 

Friday morning. I have an unexpected day off. Spring Break was to begin today after school, but due to the Covid-19 pandemic, the decision was made to close school a day early. It was done out of an abundance of caution. 

And so, today is wide open, and I wonder how I shall spend it? I began by making a pot of Paris Breakfast Tea, delicately flavoured with lavender. 

Throughout this week, as the news of the pandemic continued, the anxiety level of our students increased. Some were worried for themselves, but most were concerned about parents and grandparents, or those with chronic illness. Helping students navigate this very real and new threat is exhausting. In addition, illness hit several staff members hard - colds, not the virus - and I was called in to cover classes in addition to teaching my own. More exhaustion. So this extra day is a gift, a time to breathe and relax.

"Cooking and baking is both mental and physical therapy."
Mary Berry

Attempting the classic French Madeleine has been on my mental list of things to try for some time. I purchased a pan, but the time was never right to make the little cakes. Until this morning. 
First, I made granola and while that baked, made the batter for the Madeleines. Click on the link to go to the recipe I used. I followed Sally's advice to do everything slowly, with delicacy. While the dough rested in the fridge, I spoke with my mom on the telephone. 
The Madeleines turned out very well, tender little cakes with a hint of lemon and a buttery crisp edge. Perfect with a cup of tea. I ate a few. 

As we in Canada, and in other places throughout the world, are encouraged to limit social contact, I find myself quite content to stay at home. I have plenty of projects, reading material, even housekeeping, to keep me busy for a long while. I'm thankful for modern communication - in addition to speaking with my mom, I Skyped with my daughter and little Iris. When Iris hears the skype call, she looks at the computer and when she hears Nana's voice she hoots and waves her arms like a windmill, and smiles such lovely toothless wide grins.

"Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable,
if anything is excellent or praiseworthy, think about such things."
Philippians 4:8

Those blossoms are so, so beautiful. I took that photo with my phone while playing with my grandchildren on Wednesday afternoon in their back yard. 

There is plenty of advice out there these days on how to stay healthy and how to practice "social distancing". I think we also need strategies on staying calm. Here are some things that I'm doing or not doing.

* I'm not watching the news constantly. Once or twice a day is plenty. 

* When I do feel anxious or stressed (like when I come home from school) I make a cup of tea and sit and read a book for a few minutes. I call it escape therapy and it works wonders for me. 

* Find the beauty. Anne Frank says, "I don't think of all the misery, but of the beauty that remains." Clouds scudding across the sky, a single flower, a smile on the face of someone you love, artfully crafted phrases in a book - beauty exists in a thousand places.

*As a person of faith, I pray, and I entrust my day to God. 

* Treat myself just a little - take time for a face mask or a self-manicure, make a cup of tea and eat a cookie (or a Madeleine), use some of that precious fabric I've been saving, plan my spring wardrobe, watch a good movie.

* Practice kindness. Write a note to a friend and walk to the mailbox to post it. Check on neighbours who may be less mobile to ensure they have what they need. 

*Eat well, get enough sleep, go for walks or just get fresh air my garden. 

Stay well, my friends. 

Found While Wandering

I awoke early this morning and something on Facebook sent me to the news. I am so shocked and saddened to read of this latest attack in France. Should I write about lovely things when so many are hurting? Yes, I shall. For if we stop living our lives in the old ways, if we become creatures who scurry into isolation and suspicion, then those depraved terrorists have won. I will pray for France and for those who are hurting. I will be vigilant. But I will not hide away in fear.

On Tuesday morning we left our floating cocoon of luxury and took the Paris Metro up to the Gare du Nord. We had hours before our flight to London and so we put our luggage in storage at the train station. 

Paris is a huge city with plenty of pavement and tall buildings. But tucked away behind some of the massive doors that attract my eye are little gardens. A Parisian tour guide told us that if the doors are open, we should feel free to wander in. So we did. Several times. Peaceful green oases. Some formal, some intended as playgrounds. 

Bright flowers, usually just one kind. Red geraniums in one garden, pink hydrangeas elsewhere. Roses in yet another.

This garden is not behind doors, but tucked away at the end of a winding narrow street. It's really three garden rooms, each leading into the other. The first room has a plaque - this is the Anne Frank Garden, and there is a tree, grown tall now, that began as a shoot from a chestnut tree she could see from her hiding place. 

The next room contains the rose walkway and trellis seen above, with benches for contemplation, and a green lawn area where a yoga class was happening. 

Further in, a playground rang with ... not the sounds of children at play, but workmen with noisy machinery making improvements. 

Perhaps Anne Frank's example would be a good one to follow today. She maintained her curiosity about life and people. In the midst of fear, she found the ability to see beautiful things.

Music in Paris

In 1248, nearly 800 years ago, Louis IX of France finished the construction of La Sainte Chapelle. Amazingly, it took just 7 years to build, compared to almost 200 years of building for Notre Dame. 

La Sainte Chapelle is most well-known for its truly amazing stained glass windows. On the upper floor of the chapel, the columns between the windows are merely there to support the intricate stained glass.

This evening (Monday), after our first full day in Paris, we went to a classical music concert in the chapel. It was an experience that played tricks with my mind.

On the one hand, I marveled at the creativity of humankind, of the beauty that is expressed through architecture, glass, stone, and paint. The music that soared upwards to the arches and filled every nook and cranny of the space was equally beautiful. Creative expression was a reminder, to me, of one way that humans are created "in the image of God."

I gazed up to the blue ceiling decorated with golden stars as the string quartet played Mozart, Schubert, Vivaldi, and Pachelbel, and wondered, on the other hand, how we humans, capable of such amazing expressions of the deepest longings of the soul, can also inflict terrible pain and destruction upon other humans. The dichotomy baffles my mind.

I also wondered at the justice of spending so very much wealth on the construction of such a chapel designed not only to hold the supposed relic of Christ's crown of thorns, but also to consolidate political and religious power, at a time when the gap between the few very rich and the many very poor was immense. 

In some ways, when I look at today's world, I see that the rich still take advantage of the poor, and wonder that so little has changed.

But most of my time was spent in wonder and amazement that I, an ordinary woman of the 21st century, could sit in this jewel box of a chapel constructed by an absolute monarch of the 13th century and listen to music composed between those centuries. It was a beautiful gift.

Aged Beauty

One tulip petal falls onto the windowsill, then another. Two remain, arched protectively over stamens and pistil. 

Withering into wild and graceful curves. Swirling lines. Deepening colour. 

Beauty is not just for the young and fresh. 

"A thing of beauty is a joy forever"

John Keats

Beauty in the Desert

Last Thursday Tim and I hopped onto a plane for a couple of short flights to Spokane, Washington. We thought it was hot on our island, however, the 103 degree (39 Celsius) heat slammed like a wall when we arrived.
 

Early morning is the best time for a walk. Our friends live on the edge of a natural park. It's a spare landscape at first sight - dry scrub, pine trees, brown foliage with little color.

It was an amazing weekend. The event was a reunion of people who had worked in the little jungle town of Shell Mera during the 50s through the present. Pilots, doctors, teachers, maintenance technicians, nurses, administrators came from all over the USA and Canada. Five people traveled from Australia and one from Ecuador. 80 of us all together. It was a little taste of heaven visiting with friends I never thought I'd see on earth again. 
 

As we shared stories, laughter and a few tears, I was reminded again that beauty is everywhere. From the dry desert comes delicate structures like those above and in the dry times of life comes character and grace.

Linking with Mosaic Monday, hosted by Judith of Lavender Cottage Gardening.