Camera ready

For the first time since my fall, I grabbed my camera and headed to the pond to catch a shot or two of our new young heron. He’s very shy and I had not been able to venture near before. Quite the contrary this time - he was as interested in me as I was him. My injuries seemed to disappear as I concentrated on getting the best shot. A movement across the pond caught my eye - two turtles were watching my slow dance to get closer to the big bird. Of course they became subjects as did a lonely water lily in a crowd of leaves. Happy with my little foray, I headed back toward the house, stepped into the garden to take a photo (not showing you this one) of my one decent rose this year when a beautiful garden snake lifted its head from dozing quietly to see just what and who was disturbing it. One does not have to wander far to find those special moments and accommodating subjects.

Healing

August 31, 2011

            Well folks, I haven’t done much wandering this month since I took a nasty tumble off a ladder. I’ve spent the month healing broken ribs and a cracked tibia. Yes, I know – hurts like the dickens. However, forced to be still, I did a fair bit of writing and submitted a few pieces. One little children’s book has already been accepted – I wait to hear from the others and I will keep you posted as to when the children’s book is published.

            Our routine in the household has been entirely disrupted with the introduction of a new puppy. Athena (that’s my grandson’s choice) has adopted her new pack with vigour and total adoration. She’s even beginning to get the pee-pee thing under control. She was the runt of the litter and came to us at 6-weeks old. She had a lot of catching up to do but I think we are there – she has tripled in size.

            I have managed a couple of necessary outings beside the one to the hospital and tomorrow, I’m tackling a big one. Once a year the old gang from high school, yes that’s right, get together for an afternoon of renewed friendship. We have been together for 60 years. A few have parted this life but as a whole we are still a solid group. There is not a single one of us who thinks that because we are in our 70’s we should slow down. That might explain why I fell off a ladder. So my wanderings start again.

Music and nature

Sometimes wandering takes up all your time. That’s my excuse for not keeping my blog up to date – well that and the fact that my computer was in for repair. I spent the last few weeks saturated in wonderful music and performances at the Music and Beyond Festival. Day after day, accompanied by a friend, I drove into the bowels of the city, searched around to find parking (managed to get a hefty ticket that did put a damper on the festivities) and basked in vocal, string, oriental and other magical musical offerings. It was pure self indulgence.

Immediately after the festival I wandered to a cottage located near the highest point in Ontario. Four gals enjoying camaraderie, food, a refreshing lake and wine – there’s not a better way to spend a summer weekend. It was almost perfect except Mother Nature threw in a storm at four in the morning but – hey, it’s only water falling from the skies and so what if my sleeping bag got a little damp. My camera was at the ready and I captured some really nice shots. I wandered down the Opeonga and admired the spectacular views before arriving home to see that storms had ravaged Ottawa and the immediate area. Fortunately my property only lost the top of a tree and it was one I had been trying to muster courage to fell. Thanks MN.

Weather is on everyone’s mind these lazy summer days as the mercury is rising and frying. But our house is totally absorbed in the newest arrival. Athena is six weeks old and the cutest wee puppy you ever saw. Yep, my camera is shooting away.

On the road again

This week, my wanderings have taken me to Michigan. As I left the miles behind me, it was quite noticeable that the Ottawa Valley is about 2 weeks behind south western Ontario and Michigan. Lush greenery, due to the wet spring, lines the roadways and wild flowers are everywhere. It was all I could do to stick to my plan and simply drive – my camera kept calling to me. Fields of daisies, bachelor buttons, lupines and buttercups tempted and tempted. I prevailed and arrived in good time, but I can assure you that yesterday morning, I was trudging through the sugar beet fields to the back where a river meanders and wild flowers abound. The river ran a muddy colour, sluggish and swollen, as I startled a turtle or two and stood to watch a pair of mallard ducks lift off and rise over the massive oaks. I kicked up acorns and stepped carefully around the poison ivy then I saw them. Peeking through high grass and ferns, rose columbines nodded their welcome. Wood anemones and a lonely phlox also begged me to take their photo. The lighting was not great, a little too late in the morning but I did capture one acceptable shot to share with you. It was only weeks ago, I was photographing columbines in Arizona, they’re yellow there, now here where they’re pink and I’ll go home to purple ones. Today, it is too warm to wander but tomorrow, I’m heading down the road, camera in hand.

Rough roads

As one wanders through life the road ahead can be smooth, twisted, lonely, scenic and any number of other superlatives. Sometimes we walk our path alone, sometimes with company. I recently staggered down the roughest road I’ve encountered in many years and without a dear friend at my side it would have been unbearable. Bailey, my furry companion of 13 years took her last walk in Arizona and did not make the long trip back to Canada. I weep still.

Over the years she grew from an exasperating stubborn pup (she and I became friends when she was 10 months old) to age and mellow. We reached compromises and grew to understand each other when words were not needed.  She would express joy, love and disapproval with one look. She asked for little and gave much. It has been a month now since we said our last goodbye and friends and family have been my strength. One told me the doggy heaven is richer for having her – I agree.

I continue to walk and her shadow is with me every step of the way.

Rain or shine

Spring has sprung and it’s leaking all over the place. The few days of warm sunshine this past week had me wandering off to the nursery to fill the trunk of my car with plants and seeds which I diligently tucked into my well-sifted soil as I fed swarms of black flies. Nasty little critters – my ears are still burning from the bites. I looked forward to showers to coax the seeds to life and make the plants perk up. Little did I expect a deluge, now, I cross my fingers that the seeds have not washed away or the plants drowned.

The ditches along my road are alive with wild flowers so armed with my trusty camera I braved the hungry insects and slogged through the mud to capture a shot or two. Bellwort, dog-toothed violets and trilliums were willing subjects. Contrary to the stark sands of the desert I so recently left, where delicate wild flowers survive in spite of the rigours of the environment, the wild flowers of Ontario reside in lush surroundings. Of course I have to share. These two shots depict the difference yet the sameness of spring’s blooms – a desert primrose at home in hot sand and an Ontario trillium basking in dense foliage.

Granmothers

As I wandered through my emails this morning, I was delighted to read that my grandson came home with an outstanding report card. I’m sure he felt my pride from 2,000 miles away. Being a grandmother has many rewards and many moments rich with special stories. I have written a few and should write more.

My oldest grandchild is almost an adult, the youngest still a sprout. While one struggles with motherhood, the precious words and actions are sometimes missed – but a grandparent is tuned to them all. And sometimes the generations are miles apart – in fact today’s young person is a whole different kind of kid than their parents were. They are exposed to so much more so if you are two generations back believe me you are really out of it.

            Except those times when a child needs to be held, needs assurance or a pat on the back. If I’m handy, my arms are always open. I hope my words are wise and comforting.

            When I wander down the back lane with a child in tow – well they’re all big now and often urge me along – I’m one happy grandmother. Chicken Soup For The Soul printed one of my stories about just such a walk. The books are available in most book stores so I urge you to pick up a copy and read Generation Gasps.

$14.95