Beyond Words

I awaken at first light serenaded by the cooing of the mourning dove or the vibrant song of the cardinal. With the dawning of a new day comes the promise of fulfilling a wish, creating something from scratch or venturing about through a field of memories...

Summer is the season of laid back, bare feet, impromptu gatherings and bouts of laziness provoked by unrelenting heat.

A perfect opportunity to indulge in a good book or a sentimental movie. There are countless flicks that stir my emotions, bring on the tears or fill my heart with gladness.


I must admit if I had to choose a favourite 'Out of Africa' would be near the top.


From the soundtrack to the cinematography (and of course Robert Redford and Meryl Streep) the very essence of the movie reaches into my heart and fills it with euphoria. It is an emotion beyond words...


So indulge in all those pleasures of summertime, cherish each raindrop, the bounty from the garden, the laughter of children along the beach... whatever stirs your emotions beyond words...

On The Porch

Dating back over several hundred years the porch evolved from a place for family and friends to gather, almost into obscurity and back once again as a retreat, a place to while away the hours and one so cherished in our memory...


Very much a signature of North American culture, when television didn't exist and socializing was more of a neighbourhood affair, the porch was an integral part of everyday life.


As society changed along with architecture the porch no longer filled the role to which it originated.


But those of us with century homes, beach and lakefront cottages, hilltop havens... all played a part in the resurrection of the porch.


For partaking of time on the porch is one of life's purest pleasures.

* Pics of porches from my hometown
* My sleeping porch where I see Tallulah has found a perfect spot for a nap.

Contentment

Several times a week my travels take me past a small hobby farm where the early morning sunlight casts a silhouette of ethereal beauty. The horses have come from the barn quietly in the wee dawn hours to linger in the paddock.


Do they dream of the open plains and endless grasslands or are they content to graze in the emerald green pasture, daydreaming of sugar cubes and apples?


Perhaps we should take note of their contentment...

Confessions Of a Packrat

Truth be told everyday I go to work, I step from the present to the past. You see, I work for an auctioneer and it is my job to sort, appraise, record and separate the contents of a home, a life, a generation...


Most times it is thrilling to peek into drawers, boxes, attics and trunks that hold treasures that have been tucked away over time.


On a few occasions it can be overwhelming especially to a packrat such as I. Finding beauty or the possibility of a future for the smallest of mundane trinkets.


Buttons, lace, snippets of trim... all coveted by doll creators, mixed media artists and silly romantics (such as myself) that cherish these pieces of the past. Each one with a tale to tell and a history to share.

I hope I will be able to continue to work at this job I love for years to come... I'll just have to find a bigger house with a barn for storage.

* The pics are from an upcoming auction not my house.

Pardon My Swan Song

Well as I'm sure you can tell Miss Maddie's Swan Song lasted all of two weeks and then I came to realize I had friends to visit and tales to tell... so somewhere amidst the other enjoyable pastimes I was pursuing I could find time to post and leave comments on others' blogs. After all, is this not a community of women with similar values, shared passions and unrelenting dreams?


And now for the tale...
The precious pair of swans (that I wrote of before) that mate for life have yielded 4 cygnets (what baby swans are called). Always under the watchful eye of one of the parents their soft grey to buff down and awkward toddling about has granted them the name of the ugly duckling. It takes a full year for the feathers to completely turn to white.

A male is referred to as a cob and the female a pen. She has an important role in history for her flight feathers were fashioned into writing instruments originally called a pen quill... later a quill pen.


I wonder how many feathers were destined to carry the ink that graced the pages of her manuscripts as Jane Austen brought 'Pride and Prejudice' to life.

All the swans of Europe can trace their lineage to the Royal Swannery of England. 'Birds Royal' was the beautiful creatures' title as only Kings and Queens (or a few favoured subjects) could keep them.

May this day find you cozy in your nest and dreaming of the beauty that surrounds you...

To Cherish

A Mother's love
bestills the heart,
To cherish it forever...

Solace In The Woods

Though the first blush of Spring has transpired into lush blossoms, heady scents and a blanketing beauty beyond measure, the woods has yet to reveal the realm she guards with secrecy.

Just before the leaf buds open on the towering trees, creating a shaded canopy of concealment to the dark, rich earth below the warming rays of sunlight permeate, melting the last of the Winter's snow.

From beneath the carpet of moss and fallen leaves the fronds of ferns and the delicate trilliums reach up to the sunshine to revel in its glory.


As a human intruder I can only partake of this revered landscape as I seek solace in the woods...