A favourite spot

My favourite park is Cates Park (now called Whey-a-wichen).  My teen years were spent near here, and the park proved a place of solace from all that teen angst and poetic melancholy.  Prior to moving to the area, we'd lived in a very urban setting, so the park was really my first solo experience of walking in the woods (on a well-groomed trail, mind you).

Last summer, my mother sold the family house and moved into a condo in the same area, but at a greater distance from the park.  Yesterday, I trotted off to see just how far it was on foot from the new abode and was delighted to find it a mere 30 minutes away, all downhill.  I spent a refreshing hour or so walking through the trails and sitting on the beach

...and getting lots of photos...before climbing back up those hills home.  This, I believe, will now be my daily exercise and meditation program.  And photo indulgence.  I hope you'll be able to join in...

Change of Coast

Some of you may recognize this scene, though it was in a different season when last posted. 

I've returned to the west coast to bid adieu to the family house and help my mother move to a new home. 

I can't lie--I will miss this view.

Boats in the late afternoon

Time to set sail for new horizons and leave the past behind.

One way or another!

This is one of those times
 I wished I had a powerful telephoto lens!

I call this picture "Dude on Board"

Things are a bit at sea these days, and the waters are only going to get rougher as Moving Day on August 30 floats closer into view.  But I'm getting out for daily walks and gathering neighbourhood pictures that I hope to have time to share in Blogland...though maybe not until I'm back on the opposite shore of this land.

Just drifting along and trying to go with the flow and hoping not to be swept away by it all.
o
o
o

(glub glub glub)

Different Points of View

The morning before I left Vancouver dawned bright and promising in the view from my bedroom window.

Just what it promised I found out a couple of hours later...

I mean, really?  Snow on the day before spring in Vancouver?? 

This is supposed to be Lotus Land, people!

Everyone out of the pool!

The morning after I arrived back at my home on the east coast dawned clear and bright as well,  bringing with it another promising view from my bedroom window.  Ironically, I had wintered west in order to escape the frigid temperatures and snowbound months Maritimes winters are known for, only to find that the west experienced unusually cold temperatures this year while the east basked in (chilled) sunshine for most of the winter.

Thinking I'd go out for a walk to get re-acclimatized,  I donned my jacket and scarf and was just about to head out the door when Pierre looked at me with a very puzzled expression on his face.  "Have you been outside yet?" he asked.  "No?  Well, maybe you should check it out before you head off."  He was right--it was 26 C!

Things are getting a little more back to normal around here, now that I've arrived. Temperatures going back to the low single digits with flurries in view.  Seems wherever I go, I always take the weather with me.

To Cheer My Maritime Friends

Here it is the end of February, the time when friends and family living in Vancouver (Lotus Land) phone their loved ones back east (anywhere west of the Rockies, basically, but I'm speaking particularly of the Atlantic side of the country) to chirrup with delight about the snowdrops being up, to crow about the crocuses popping up all over lawns, and to trumpet about the daffodils blaring their golden presence into the world while the east still shivers under deep blankets of frozen snow.  Well friends, this is the scene that greeted me this Leap Year morn

Yes, the view from my bedroom window at the end of February, I admit it.

The little island between this shore and the opposite remained clear of snow

but the trees on the hillside were well and truly
 sugar-coated (though still a bitter pill to swallow).

I guess there were some beings even less amused than I was by the crystallized world,

such as this host of golden daffodils, seen LAST WEEK in Vancouver's west end.

This is how it's supposed to look around here in February.

Seems I've got to take the bitter cold with the sweet warmth of the daffs.  After all, I will be returning east in a few week's time so I guess I need to start getting my chill on again.

Meanwhile, I'm heading south for a few days.  No need for beachwear, though, as I'm only going as far as Seattle where the weather is pretty similar to here.  

Umbrella and sunglasses all packed.

See you soon.

Unclear

Fog.

The houses huddle together, hunched down in the mystery

Their view of the sky has disappeared

Where yesterday the island shone forth in confidence,  today it shrinks into itself,

muttering words of self-doubt

But now the sun burns through the morning's hesitation

as gradually, the pool recalls its purpose.

****

P.S. February 17

Look what I got while I was lost in the fog.  A Post of the Week Award for Photography from Hilary of Smitten Image fame.  Thanks, Hilary!

The Weather Vein

I hope you're not getting too tired of the view from my bedroom window but it keeps changing and forcing me to photograph it.  This is the scene that greeted my eyes the morning after the furnace was fixed (as described in the previous post)

 The weather pundits had been predicting an unusually cold and snowy winter for the Vancouver area since the autumn but it hadn't materialized until now.  Just after I'd sent my serious winter boots back to the Maritimes with Pierre when he left last week.  See the small island, the far shore and the mountains obscured by the low lying clouds?  Of course you don't!

The neighbours' pool sat like a square piece of turquoise jewellery in a silver setting.

A Snow Gull warmed his feet on a chimney top while enjoying the view.

When the clouds began to lift, they revealed the local version of the Eiffel Tower.

Yes, folks, it looks like winter has found me after all. 

 

Morning's Warm Kiss

(Friday) Last night I went to bed quite chilled as a result of the furnace being on the blink.  I awoke early this morning, reluctant to leave the deep warmth of my multitude of blankets that had cocooned me during the cold night.  Knowing that the furnace man cometh at 8:30 a.m. is what eventually coaxed me forth. My effort was rewarded with this startling view of sun bursting forth over the frosty roof tops...

Just peeking up from behind the foreground hills is the tip of Mount Baker in the Cascade Mountain Range of Washington state.  It's always a treat when we can see this mountain from our house.  I'm not sure why.  Maybe because it means that it's a clear day.  Also, it's the most active volcanic peak in the region, after Mount Saint Helens, so that's pretty exciting.

I was also intrigued to see the top of Burnaby Mountain swathed in clouds. It's really not much more than a big hill, though one that would certainly pass for a mountain back in my adopted east coast province of New Brunswick.  Simon Fraser University is located up on top there.  I put in a couple of years studying at that school, with my head pretty much in the clouds the whole time.

Head in the clouds, pipe dreams, Xanadu...you see how my mind works.  Next thing I'll be linking you to an Olivia Newton John video! But no, I'll spare you because I'm feeling warm-hearted. 

And would you like to know why I'm feeling this way? 

It's because the Furnace Repair Man showed up, as promised, with the right stuff, and warmed not only the cockles of our hearts but the whole house as well by fixing the furnace's Thermocoupler. 

Doesn't that sound romantic? 

The Thermocoupler! 

But actually, it's two wires that are destined to break apart every 7 years or so, and when they do, the whole system shuts down, until they get couple counselling from the Furnace Man and then things can start to heat up again.

You could say I've been feeling pretty much in the pink today.

 I hope you are, too!

PS.  As I look out the window tonight (Saturday 12:30 a.m.) it's snowing!

(I can hear you easterners snickering!!!)

Things Could Be Worse

...but they could be better.

The furnace is not working.  Or the thermostats.  Little matter, both scenarios mean no heat.  Other than the blazing fire that my mother got going in the fireplace

(hooked rug made by me)

Alas, the fireplace is where most of the heat stays.
 Still, it gives a nice illusion of warmth.

How am I coping, you wonder?

By dressing appropriately for the situation:

cap

handknit wool neckwarmer

one nightgown

one pullover

pyjama bottoms

fleece dressing gown

woollen socks

handknit  felted wool fuzzy slippers

(and a large goblet of red wine, not shown)

*

Low tonight: 1 Celsius

It could be worse.

Furnace man due in at 8:30 tomorrow morning. 

Hopefully he will have the right stuff.

Looking Up

I have a tendency to look at the ground when I'm walking, but once in awhile I remember to look up.

Sometimes when I'm looking at the ground, I find a surprise, such as a lucky penny or a feather or an appealing piece of rusted metal to give to a friend as a gift (yes, I am that generous!); but sometimes when I look up I find pleasant surprises as well.  Such as a flying fish and a message from the wind.

Or if I'm really lucky I might even happen upon a towering totem reaching heavenward. 

I might find inspiration from flowers that should be well past their prime...that should, in fact, be quite dead but that are somehow lingering on and stretching out their beauty.

I couldn't believe my eyes.  I zoomed in with my little camera lens to confirm that there were buds, resembling rosebuds but who knows what they really are, short of miraculous, stretching high above me.  (This photo is SOOC, BTW.)

And this evening, as I was looking up at the sky through my bedrom window,  I saw that the moon was already on high, taking advantage of the delicate pink goodnight kisses from the setting sun.

I hope things are looking up for you, my friends.

A Parting Shot

Here's a parting shot from the west coast

Seems the neighbourhood is protected from invading pirates at least, as evidenced by this small canon on the back deck of someone's seaside home at the bottom of the street.

 

But here's my real parting shot for this particular trip:

The view this evening from the back porch of my mother's house.

In a few hours I'll be heading out to the Vancouver airport

to catch a plane back to the east coast.

I've lost track of how many times I've said this goodbye;

but it never seems to get any easier.

See you from the other side!

Sights Unseen

Like a bird on a wire...

except that the bird is really sitting on a branch rather than the wire.

A boat house...

Of course the boat is not really sitting atop the roof of the house but out on the inlet some distance behind the house.  I noticed the illusion of the boat floating on the house while I was out walking around the neighbourhood where my mother lives in Dollarton (an area in North Vancouver).  In fact, all 3 of these photos are from there.

Full moon over the mountain.

In reality, as mundane as a kitchen light being reflected in a rainy window.

If we know how to look, we can find mystery,  magic and poetry in the extraordinary ordinariness of our daily lives.

Let us end this Sunday sermon with  one of my favourite songs,

"Like a Bird on a Wire."

Again, not who/what we expected but I think Adam does justice to his papa's song here.