February 26th, 2008 writerspice
A hint of spring arrived this Sunday. The sky was blue and the bright sun ate away at our – no exaggeration – six-foot snowbanks. We decided to take advantage of the weather by heading out into one of our local public forests, for a turn around a ski-trail. This plan immensely pleased a certain member of our small family who seems to be getting a bit tired of the epic winter couch naps (poor guy) and the salt-stung paws. Does he not look at least a little pleased:
It’s kind-of hard to see him, but on closer inspection, it becomes evident that his pleasure might be based on the fact that this formerly floor-bound canine has recently learned how to levitate (I think the power is in his tongue)… Now there’s a happy camper.
Posted in Orillia, Seasons, Simcoe County | No Comments »
February 21st, 2008 writerspice
Last night, J. and I bundled up and spent a good hour, on and off, standing in our driveway. We leaned against our car and watched the sky. The solar eclipse started with a small bite out of the side and gradually, ever so slowly, the moon disappeared.
As it sank into the earth’s shadow, the aurora borealis appeared – odd, razor sharp white and green lights slashed across the sky. It was amazing. And oddly, on our street, we were the only ones outside.
Across the road, two girls occasionally stood on their second floor balcony, laughing loudly into the night and talking in that unique small-town dialect of Redneck about how “pretty soon there won’t be any Canadians left. It’ll all be immigrants.”
When I first went outside, I thought they were taking part, talking – albiet loudly – while they watched the show unfold. But then, at the very end, as the final sliver of glowing crescent was about to be swallowed up, they went back inside. They missed the final, hard-earned act. And I realized: they don’t care. They’re outside to smoke. They probably didn’t even notice.
I was glad they went away. This was no time for the mundane, not as we stood in the freezing cold, my husband with ridiculous bare feet inside his untied boots (he ran a hot bath when it was over) earning our quick glimpse of this special, momentary shift in the relationship between sun and moon.
The whole world was crisp and clearly defined – edges sharp, like they are in minus-20 degrees. Smoke from our neighbour’s chimney mixed with misty clouds floating over the sky, intermittently hiding the moon. It was quiet.
And in the silence, we watched the russet cloak settle on that normally bone-white star. I let it unfold, that amazed feeling of wonder at how small we are, settled in this tiny corner of the universe, facing an incomprehensible depth. And how big: able to recognize that depth, to gaze into it with wonder.
Photo by Dan Bennett
Posted in Uncategorized | 2 Comments »
February 14th, 2008 writerspice
Okay, Okay. I know. I know!
I have fallen prey to the blogger’s disease, procrastination, abandonment, evident in the long delay between posts, that vacuous sense of time that must greet any of my regular readers as they wander over to my site only to see that, no, I’ve yet to update and haven’t for nearly one whole month. Where is she?, I imagine someone wondering, sitting in a cool adobe hut in South American summer or cranking up the generator to get on-line somewhere around James Bay.
But perhaps that is simply my ego and these words actually unfurl into a void.
Whatever the case, here is my update.
My computer crashed a couple weeks ago, just before J. and I began gradually, slowly dismantling our house in the constant pursuit of renovation. In an empty space that joined our bedroom and my office we, well, actually, he and his dad, built a wall. You know, dry wall, plaster and hours and hours of puttying and sanding and puttying and sanding… Needless to say, currently my office is a mound of desk-books-chairs-computer (minus the box, which is still in the shop) shoved into a corner and covered in plastic. I am writing this at my alternate work area – the bed, a cup of tea beside me, a newly-caught cold gripping my chest.
And then there was Arizona.
Four blissful days exploring the desert and indulging in Phoenix during a press trip. There is something magical about Arizona. Not to sound new age (been there, done that) but the energy seems somehow clearer. New ideas and understandings ricocheted through my mind. I just felt so grounded.
I love that.
And so I’m back. More or less. Ready to pop open a few more cans of paint today and keep on going. But, dear reader, propped on a wooden platform in a forest swamp or tucked into a 300-square-foot office in a city centre, I will do my best to keep the accounts a-comin’.
Even without my own computer…
Posted in Contemplations, News, Other, Writing Life | No Comments »
