Indescribable Snow

It snowed this week for the first time this winter, a light one inch that has almost covered the ground and turned our farm so white. Today the sun is shining brightly and the air is mild so I enjoyed a leisurely stroll through our property. Whenever it snows for the first time, I inevitably think of an Australian family I met years ago when I was travelling through Europe. The children had never seen snow before and they were so disappointed that while they could get glimpses of snow high up in the Alps, they could not actually experience it up close. I was amazed to think they had never seen snow before and attempted to describe it, but quickly  came to the conclusion that it is very hard to describe to someone who has never seen it for themselves.

Not even pictures can do justice to snow.  Can a picture really capture the dazzling brightness of snow as it reflects the sun back into your eyes in millions of prisms?

And how can mere words or even a picture portray snow's lovely fluffiness and the way it caresses the plants on which it lands, like the softest of down comforters.

Or the way it can frost the top of a box like icing on a cake?

Can a picture capture the depths of the shadows that lie across its surface lengthening the most average of trees into veritable forests of stretching timber?

And still reveal how the snow delicately lines each branch as if an artist's brush has gently stroked over each fine detail.....

and then moved on to transform garden ornaments with a palette knife loaded with titanium white.

But it isn't just the look of snow that's hard to describe ... it's what the snow reveals - like the tracks of a hopping bird, foraging for food.

And the secret midnight dance of the rabbits as they court under the winter sky....

Or the path of a lone cat, stalking silently by with its green eyes focused on a mission only he can comprehend.

These are the messages found in the snow, the stories it whispers, the secrets it reveals.  It covers the ground, but exposes so much more.  Even the goldfinch, wearing his drab winter plumage, is more easily spotted when the rosehips have donned their winter caps of snow.

And the junko, practically unnoticeable in summer and fall, becomes a focal point with his soft charcoal feathers set against a white backdrop.

I have concluded that snow is indescribable, a miracle best experienced in person. Second-hand knowledge just won't suffice. I hope, wherever you are, you have the opportunity to enjoy a little snow this winter.

Marvelous Monday - A Bird in the Hand

We have the joy of living quite close to a beautiful botanical garden - the Royal Botanical Garden in Hamilton, Ontario.  Along with a number of exquisite formal and informal gardens, the RBG consists of 2400 acres of natural land, and 30 km of hiking trails.  It is one of our favourite places to go to enjoy spring flower displays in the incredible Iris Rock Gardens and the Lilac Arboretum.  But it is also one of our favourite places to go for a Sunday afternoon hike all year round.

We spent a glorious Sunday afternoon there last week.  The sky was blue and the autumn leaves were still full of colour.

The particular hiking trail we chose that day runs along an inner harbour, so periodically along the way we caught glimpses of the water through the trees.

And at one point, the trail took us right down to the water's edge.

We saw lots of birds and animals, like this nuthatch, flicker and this noisy little squirrel who gave us quite a scolding for venturing into his territory!

And we had a great deal of fun feeding the very tame little chickadees who love to take seed right out of your hand!

You know the old saying "a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush" ... a great reminder to me to practice being content with what I have instead of constantly wishing for something more, or something different, or someone else's life that looks more glamorous than my own.  

So this Marvelous Monday, I am especially thankful for Sunday afternoon hikes, for sweet little chickadees, and for all the other "birds" that are in my hand ... the blessings that are already part of my life that I sometimes take for granted.

"Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not;

remember that what you now have

was once among the things you only hoped for."

Epicurus, Greek Philosopher (341-270 BC)

Marvelous Monday - Wonderful Parks

It's been several weeks since I posted a "Marvelous Monday" but I've been thinking all day about how much I'd like to write this one and finally now have a moment to sit down to the computer and blog away to my heart's content!

Yesterday afternoon, we spent some blissful time hiking in one of our favourite local parks.  Short Hills Provincial Park is an amazing 1600 acre park filled with hiking trails, waterfalls, beautiful trees and peaceful meadows.  Some trails are designated strictly for hikers while others are multi-use trails for hiking, mountain biking, cross-country skying, and horse-back riding.  Though Short Hills is a favourite of ours, we often take it for granted instead of realizing what a treasure it really is.  I'm so glad we have access to fantastic greenspaces like this.  As my husband puts it, spending time in nature allows us to shake the "clinkers from our thinkers!"

Here are a few shots from our energizing hike on a brisk autumn Sunday afternoon:

“If you are seeking creative ideas, go out walking.  Angels whisper to a man when he goes for a walk.”   

-- Raymond Inmon


 

“Walking:  the most ancient exercise and still the best modern exercise.”  

-- Carrie Latet


 

“When you have worn out your shoes, the strength of the shoe leather has passed into the fiber of your body.  I measure your health by the number of shoes and hats and clothes you have worn out.”  

-- Ralph Waldo Emerson
 

“I have two doctors, my left leg and my right.”   

-- G.M. Trevelyan


 

“A vigorous five-mile walk will do more good for an unhappy but otherwise healthy adult than all the medicine and psychology in the world.”  

-- Paul Dudley White


 

“My father considered a walk among the mountains as the equivalent of churchgoing.”   

-- Aldous Huxley  

The Butterfly Dance

I've always been told that there is a silver-lining in most clouds and that good can come of even the most awful experiences in life.  So I suppose it should be no surprise that there have been some surprisingly good things that have resulted from my dear cat Tiger's accident (for those who may be new to my blog and want the background story on Tiger, you will find it HERE).

Because Tiger was wild for the first 8 months of her life, and because she is still basically an outdoor cat, my husband has really encouraged me to take her outside every day so that she will have the "morale-boost" of feeling grass beneath her paws and being able to sniff fresh air every day.  As a result, I too have been experiencing a morale-boost!  Spending at least an hour outside twice a day, just squishing my own toes into the grass and sniffing fresh air of my own while I'm watching my little cat, I've found such a renewed love for the outdoors.  So, I am truly enjoying the experience of sitting outside on our porch swing, or on a lawn chair, with one eye on my little cat to make sure she's safe, and one eye either drifting shut in the sunshine, or else watching the birds, bees and butterflies fly by.

And speaking of birds, bees and butterflies, yesterday morning as I sat with my cat, something amazing happened - something, I would have totally missed out on if I'd been inside.  The butterflies began to dance!  One after another, the butterflies began to arrive and soon our front lawn and the flowers situated there became landing posts for at least a dozen monarch butterflies.  They danced in the air, they feasted on flowers, they drifted and spun around, only to land one more time for a banquet of flower nectar.

And there I was, caught in the middle of their dance, bubbling over with delight at what I was seeing!  There were monarchs on my right and monarchs on my left, monarchs above me, and monarchs chasing down near my feet.  And all at once as I began to laugh with joy, I discovered I was no longer a spectator, but a participant in their dance!  They landed on my head and swirled around my face and danced off again to twist and twirl together in the sky.

For three-quarters of an hour I danced with the butterflies, me and my camera - because YES for once I actually had my camera with me at just the right moment!  I'm convinced Tiger thought I was losing my mind.  She looked at me quite cross-eyed when I returned breathless and enraptured to sit by her side.  But what an amazing experience to be transported for a brief moment in time, into a butterfly's world!  I don't know if the butterflies will be back tomorrow.  I suspect they are getting ready to migrate and that is why they were so active today.  But if I never see them again, I am so thrilled I will always have the memory of this butterfly dance!

This last picture has nothing to do with butterflies, it's a picture of the full moon rising over our house last night.  I've taken it especially for Purple Cow to thank her for bringing the full moon to my attention and to let her know I really was thinking about her watching the full moon way over in Greece while I was watching it here in Canada.  And who knows, a full moon is a rather magical thing, so maybe it is linked in some way to the magic of my butterfly experience today.

Wordless Wednesday - My Peeps can Cheep

Wordless Wednesday:  but not without chirps, whistles, cheeps, and other assorted squawking noises since my "peeps" are of the avian variety.

Marvelous Monday - Expect the Unexpected!

It's Marvelous Monday once again -






and today I am thankful for unexpected treasures...

For wild roses, planted by the birds and tended by nature...

....for daisies that spread with wild abandon by the side of the road...

...and for dragonflies with fairy wings.

For unusual garden sculptures deliberately placed to catch your eye...

...and incidental farm sculpture oblivious to its own beauty.

For Sunday drives with stunning views...

...that lead to unexpected roadside stands...

and spontaneous strawberry socials!

And when we return home, for cold wet noses...

and waggly tails...

and cedar wax wings whistling in the Saskatoon Berry trees.

A delicious piece of pie...

Yesterday, due to a series of unfortunate events,

that had nothing to do with Lemony Snicket and everything to do with my pesky younger brother

I was forced to arise at 4:30 in the morning. I am not a morning person. It was painful.

But at 4:30, I got up, walked my dogs, and then had to take them for a drive since they could not go back in their kennel. I found myself driving along the lake watching the Sunrise but then I still had time to kill before I could take my dogs home, so I meandered over to my parents' home expecting to mooch breakfast from my Mum. As it turns out, she was already up and at 'em and not there! And my Dad was still sleeping. So I took my camera and my dogs and I wandered around for a while.

Here are some of the things we spotted:

My Mum's little pansy bed with all their faces turned towards the sun.

Is there anything more inviting than the sight of your own parents' back door?  I think not. 

This climbing hydrangea I bought for my Mum years ago for her birthday.

My Dad's swing, tucked in under the trellis, where you can find him snoozing in the shade every Sunday afternoon.

A bull frog croaking deeply as it sits on the edge of my Dad's pond.

Purple Martins waking up before another day of vigorous bug eating.

And finally, my Mum's cat "Button" who was lying peacefully in the shade,

watching the birds and hoping for a nice "feathered" snack.

"One's home is like a delicious piece of pie you order in a restaurant on a country road one cozy evening - the best piece of pie you have ever eaten in your life - and can never find again."

Lemony Snicket