Coasting Through Cates

One of my favourite places to walk, to be, to breathe, is in Cates Park near my mother's house.  I feel so lucky that in these early days of December the sun is still shining and I can enjoy good brisk walks.

I used to come to this park when I was a teenager; it was my first real awareness of "being in nature."

Often I come to the park to ponder questions that have been stumping me.

Although sometimes I feel it's better to leaf them well enough alone.

There are textures, colours, and ready-made collages to be found at one's feet that never leaf me uninspired.

There are tangerine-toned fungi all puckered up and red leaves that look like  whiskery, lipsticked kisses.

There are parsley-shaped leaves, green furry moss, and mushrooms shaped like cauliflower ears.

And in the distance, there is almost always a ship, usually the one seen from my bedroom window

although this morning I was rather surprised to see a cement-mixing truck being towed up the inlet.

While I'm at it, how a boat an altered view from my window?

Still coasting along,