Stowel Lake

Stowel Lake 

Down a seam in a dusty track

cars lining the road above,

you wade in,

separate the lily pads with

your praying clasp,

emerald ripples  

bloat,

encase naked white skin 

over there,

thick atop a wooden dock, 

decorated by

dragonflys and voices weaving the

gloaming.

In the Light, Happiness

In the light, happiness.
Golden and steady,
shining natural beauty
outside in.

I went for a walk tonight in Duck Creek Park. I hadn't been there for a couple of months and the light was spectacular. The grasses were freshly cut and the evening sun glinted the gold from the straw like fluorescence. If every sad person could be there for just 10 minutes surely their mood would shift, even if just a little.

I watched furtively from the taller grasses as I had to take a pee and noticed the robins, stalking, the hay their sea.

I inspected the Ford tractor and heard a car stop. A boy yelled, "Dad" and then a car door slammed. I walked to the road but there was no one there. Just a deer grazing, further down Sunset drive.
One thought crossed my mind. Why had it taken me so long to find where I belong?

Cabin Fever Be Gone

Let only the precious ones
choose you

Map a heart
see your seas
soften courseness
ride the waves

They'll capture you
if they want to

Cutest face of the day

The Colour Grey

See this photo? I think it's beautiful. Sort of. Except, when I look at it, the tone of it sums up the weekend I just had! It was as if someone blindfolded me, put earplugs in, put me in a padded cell and walked away. Okay. well, I exaggerate slightly. But, THIS (up there) is exactly the way it looked ALL weekend from every where. In the trees. Out my windows. In the park. In town.

Now I know that the woman who sells that jam in the Saturday Market in the summer that she calls "Stir Crazy" on Salt Spring wasn't kidding! Just wait til winter she said to me when I commented on the great name. And, she said it in a way that meant she wasn't kidding. I get it. I hear ya' sister!

Saturday was so bleak that I began to think that those of us who are single and live alone here in winter should get some sort of tax break on weekends like this. I mean, we can't even have sex to pass the time. No, instead we have to while away the hours renting videos, turning our photos into cards, KNITTING, eating pizza, drinking wine, and trying to recall past "good" sex and then trying to forget because it has been so long and anyway it's time to make a fire, again. I doubt that men find women chopping wood to be sexy!

Today, I awoke with renewed enthusiasm and all the projects I want to do this year racing around in my mind. Since it wasn't raining hard, I headed out to Duck Creek Park and spent two hours with the thing on the planet that I'm beginning to have my closest relationship with: My camera. (This is only partly true!:-)

Except for 3 people and 2 dogs, I didn't see anyone or talk to anyone in the park. I spent most of my time concentrated in one beautiful spot because I think it's a good exercise to just spend time in one natural place to see what you can see over time that you would never have noticed had you just walked through.

It was not the spot above which by the way is a good example of a piece of advice I got from David at the Ghost Ranch. If you're feeling frustrated he said and can't see anything you want to photograph, then just stop and look behind you. Amazingly enough I've found that it almost always works. It's as if God with a big smirk on his face is holding up a sign that says "Over here idiot. I'm right behind you where all the beauty is."

Where I was this morning past the tall evergreens there's another world on the other side. It's like a secret. If you walk down the middle of the park you wouldn't even know it was there. Trails in the trees lead down there and it's so vibrant with forest that when you first come upon it you hope beyond hope to find gnomes or forest fairies in beautiful gauzy crinolines and satin ballet shoes or better yet the secret World of Og.

It's so quiet except for the wooshing sound of green water slipping over the grey rocks in the creek. There are bright green mossy branches jutting this way and that, floating in mid-air like hairy muppet arms. Mushrooms cover a single log like a bouquet of thick, rubbery flower petals. The flat wood of logs has taken on a grey/blue sheen from all the water that has pooled in the surfaces. If you look closely you will see the white berries, hanging in clumps, tiny beads of water decorating the strands from a spider web. A yellow mushroom is pushing up against a maple leaf that's acting as a tent. Look. Look closer. Stand still. Listen.

And then amidst this wondrous woody and wet natural environment there's a bright man-made bench. Someone has left a photo of an elderly couple on it. Their last name was Marshall. The photo is in a red metallic frame that has hearts on it. Apparently the Marshalls liked to walk in the park says the plaque on the bench.

When I look at their photo it makes me feel happy for some reason. It makes me happy to think about how they would be happy watching me look at them. I wonder if they were happy with each other? It's really nice to think of them walking when they were alive and now all of us who walk this way too get to see them as they were in their earthly bodies.

This morning I got to imagine that they were sitting there watching me somewhat curiously, somewhat mystified about what would keep this middle aged woman, alone, here for such a long time. They were there in spirit. I could feel them.

Thanksgiving/Oktoberfest!

Happy Thanksgiving and Oktoberfest!

Luckily I joined the beginner band because that's how I met Pauline, who is also learning how to play the flute, and that's how I got invited to Thanksgiving dinner and then to a very unique Oktoberfest.

Pauline has been many things in her life (including a caterer) and she lives between Sidney, BC, where she has a big old house and on Saltspring where she has a cabin that she is continually expanding or "pushing out" by adding one more room here, oh, let's put another there and you get the picture. It's really nicely decorated and has the most amazing bathroom with a big soaker tub and beautiful fixtures. At the moment, she's got Christian building her an office. Christian is a very cute, amazingly nice carpenter.

The two dinner tables set up in her small kitchen just fit and the guests arrived. A very lively Irish woman married a few years ago on Saltspring to a woman from Edmonton, a tilesetter, a carpenter, me, and Pauline's neighbours who are retired. The lively Irish woman regaled us throughout the meal with tales of working at one of the local vets. She could write a book about animal stories gone wrong. The animal sound effects she could make were beyond impressive.

Right after the turkey got pulled from the oven the power went out and everyone pointed out that having an endless supply of candles on Saltspring is an absolute must and that you don't believe it when they say it never snows here. In fact, sometimes we get snowed in they said but don't worry, neighbours look after each other around here they assured me. Pauline's pumpkin pie, made by hand of course, complete with a little pastry heart in the center was delicious. .

Maybe it's the country or something but I don't think I've ever seen people eat so fast and then leave. It seemed like the meal passed quickly and by 8:30 pm it was only Christian, me and Pauline still left and we spent a very enjoyable rest of the evening chatting in the sitting room while Maggie the black Scotty dog and Griffin the one year old Terrier took turns resting up beside me.

Then today, we (Christian, Pauline and I) head out to Miles' place. Miles is originally from Germany and I would describe Miles as a Rennaissance man extraordinaire. The guy has rigged up a solar powered electric fence because he used to have pigs and now only the turkeys are getting zapped back to middle ground. He lives in a creation that is part trailer attached to part house with amazing kitchen cabinets because as well as being able to cook he's a cabinetmaker. He's created this fabulous bath house with the hot water heater on the roof equipped with wood stove, big soaker tub and a window to look out at while bathing solo but big enough for company.

He served up warm pretzels with sweet and tangy mustard to dip them in, boiled white sausage with beers from a Saltspring microbrewery to wash it all down with. This entire weekend has felt like a gourmet extravaganza.

It has been great!

But, I have to say between the people who make their own pies and their own bread, their own cabinets, their own bathrooms, their own houses, I'm thinking to myself, oh my god, what do I do? I need to figure out how to DO something. Something USEFUL!

Thank god I've always been very good at being incredibly appreciative of other people's talents and not everyone can say that now can they?:-)

Wind Storm

Figures that as a city person when I saw the beautiful trees that make this place look like Stanley Park, it never occurred to me to think about what happens when windstorms wreak havoc with those pretty trees.

Last night, 2:00 am, I awake to what sounds like a wooshing as if I've suddenly been transported to the beach in a storm. But, oh no, it's not waves. It's the sound of all the trees on the property bending and and swaying, their branches being whipped by the wind that seems to be going through the property as if it's a big wind tunnel. Some of the smaller branches from above are hitting the skylight, others are whipped every once in a while against one of my side bedroom windows.

I turn the light beside my bed on. There are windows on 3 sides of my bedroom. Not a particularly good design for a windstorm with really tall trees everywhere. Shortly thereafter the power goes out. I walk in the dark, feeling my way to my Smith and Wesson cop flashlight in the kitchen hoping not to step on any spiders. I grab the flashlight. It's freezing in the house. Are we having fun yet? Isn't it fun living on an island?

I'm standing in the dark, looking out, at the trees and I'm growing more freaked by the second imagining Stanley Park and the destruction I witnessed after the blow down. I imagine a huge tree crashing on this tiny cottage. I just GOT here I think to myself. I can't DIE YET!

The gate on the deck is banging. At one point my french doors actually blow open and I have to grab them and close them. I'm standing with my flashlight in my robe and my wool socks wondering where one is supposed to stand. Is it like an earthquake I think? Should I be standing under a door frame? I'm not even sure you're supposed to do that actually.

I don't think I have been that afraid for a very long time. And, it's not as if I could figure out what to do. Couldn't exactly go outside and feel safer.

I was up for two and a half hours between 2:00 am and 4:30 am when around 4:30 I think the winds started to subside. I must have fallen asleep around 5:00 am. It was SO scary, especially being new to this place and being ALONE in the dark. I'm getting uptight just thinking about it now and wondering when it's going to happen again!!!

And it isn't even WINTER yet!

Let's face it, I'd rather kill spiders given a choice.

Perspective: A Moving Target

It just occurred to me today that I am moving to a place where there is only one traffic light. How fantastic is that?!

Here's some of the things that have crossed my mind about what I think I will miss about Vancouver in no particular order.

1. Being able to see my friends whenever I want without having to catch a ferry.
2. Indian restaurants.
3. Stanley Park (not that I won't be in another paradise).
4. The Stanley Park Rose Garden and the way that you can watch the seasons by watching how it changes.
5. Neil calling me spontaneously after he's been up to Prospect Point doing some shipspotting and he wants to have a beer at the Sylvia.
6. Colleen spontaneously dropping by for a visit.
7. Lisa.
8. Not being around to kayak with Lisa and Heather and Karen in Deep Cove.
9. The clip clop sounds of the Clydesdale horses pulling a buggy down Robson Street on their way back to the Park more often than not a bride and a groom seated in the carriage on the way to have their photos taken.
10. Coffees with Keiko.
11. Being able to walk down the street to the library and to just about any amenity you can think of within a 10 block radius.
12. Sunday breakfasts and walks with Dee.
13. Conversations with Dave.
14. Leila.
15. Dinners at Peggy`s place with Catherine and Chris.
16. The High Tech Communicator`s Exchange events.
17. Sitting on my balcony and just watching people coming in and out of the park.
18. All the free festivals and entertainment available in Vancouver so that even if you`re broke, you can still entertain yourself quite well.
19. Gelato and cupcakes (that`s undoubtedly a good thing).
20. Not being able to easily visit my father and the times we have spent together at Crescent Beach.
21. Missing out on See Seven with Gwen.


Here`s what I`m looking forward to:

1.Living in a place where there is only one traffic light.
2.Hopefully, having more time to concentrate on writing poetry and fiction.
3.Taking in yoga classes at the Saltspring Center.
4.All the creative people I will undoubtedly continue to meet on Saltspring by writing for Aqua and the paper.
5. Learning about a new community and getting involved in it.
6.Perhaps taking up a musical instrument such as the fiddle because Saltspring has an excellent fiddle community and it would be great to get back to music, something I haven't done since I played classical piano.
7.Doing something for money part-time that is very different than anything I`ve done to date.
8.Learning how to chop kindling for my wood-burning stove (I`m sure that novelty will wear off in less than a month.)
9. Living somewhere so quiet that you can`t hear the sounds of traffic.
10. The festivals that take place on the island and living in a place where the
entertainment opportunities are `manageable` if you know what I mean.
11. Enjoying living in a place I`ve wanted to live for a very long time and recognizing that I made that happen just because I decided to.
12. Exploring with my camera the places I`ve yet to see on the island after all these years.
13. Knowing that I have lived well in Vancouver, enjoyed Vancouver, especially in the past 7 years, and am leaving without regret or feeling like I will feel as if I'm missing out on something because I'm ready to leave.
14. Feeling like I'm moving to a place that really fits who I am.
15. Opting out of a collective consciousness that is continually in need of more...
16. Stuff I can`t even know that I will undoubtedly enjoy about the place.

Home is where the Heart is

The sun is streaming in the door this morning warming my back as I write this post.

I'm eating blackberries that I picked from out the front looking forward to today because I get to do two interviews for two features for an upcoming edition of Aqua magazine.

I'm going to interview a woman who has a huge Teddy Bear collection. That should be good for a hug or two (from the bears) :-) and then even more interesting to me, I get to meet a woman who started what was called the Vancouver Literary Storefront in the late 70s which could be likened to the precursor of the BC Federation of Writers.

She has run (with her husband) a small press called Mother Tongue Publishing that used to make beautiful, hand made chapbooks and now they are moving into trade publishing focusing on BC Art, BC Art History and Literature.

It should be really interesting to talk to her.

If you look closely at this photo, in the tree on the right hand side, it seems as if there is a little pink heart at the top of the tree caused by the reflection of the light. The heart looks like it has been placed there in the tree. I like that.

Saltspring has always captured my heart.

Heaven on Earth

If you like to plan ahead, (especially since this year is just whizzing by at warp speed) there's no better time to go to Saltspring Island than September.

School is back in so it's a little more peaceful in Ganges. The weather is as perfect as it will ever get in BC, and the Fall Festival is like nothing you'll ever experience in the city.

Then, there's the Apple Festival on Sunday, September 28th from 9-5, beginning at Fulford Hall and with 15 orchards participating. This year's theme is red-flesh apples. I had never even heard of such a thing, apples with red, not white flesh, inside.

In Spring, take a break in March and celebrate International Women's Day by taking in the weekend-long Documentary Film Festival.

It's been at least 18 years since I first visited and I'm in love with the place!

Intuition Not Bread Crumbs

-one view from Ruckle Point at dusk, June 2008

This is a story about following intuition. Sometimes following intuition feels counterintuitive. It feels like you're being pulled to do the last thing your brain thinks you should be doing. It's not practical you protest. I don't have the money you think. But, in your heart you know that it's what you must do. It's as if someone else has already decided for you. If you're listening, you just do it with a feeling of rightness in your heart.

That's what I did last week. I packed up my tent and my camping supplies and I headed to Ruckle Point on Saltspring Island. I first went there about 18 years ago and I consider that beautiful place my personal refuge; the place I go to get re-energized, to calm down, to clear my head, to allow the softness of the mossy forest and the rhythms of the ocean to soothe me.

Before I left, I contacted the editor of The Driftwood, the community newspaper there. They also publish a magazine five times a year called Aqua. The editor's name also happens to be Gail. I met her last year at an interview in early July. About a month ago, I contacted her again and asked if she needed anyone to do any writing for Aqua. At that time I had no idea that I would be taking a mini retreat to Saltspring in the near future. I'm not sure how I thought I would write stories solely via the phone but it's totally possible, although not preferable, so I just put it out there.

To make a long story shorter, Gail and I met for coffee on Thursday and she said to me, You couldn't write a story today could you? Her reporter had had a fluke accident with a bungey cord as he was loading his kayak onto his car earlier that week. His eye had been injured.

So, that's how I found myself sitting at a computer in the The Driftwood offices writing a story about a guy who was going to be holding a Diksha or "oneness blessing" on July 3. He's written a book called The Cosmic Alarm Clock. He'd been to the "Oneness university" in India a few times and now he's passionate about sharing his experience.

Then, Gail gave me three stories to write for Aqua magazine's September issue. I met a Goldsmith who had won a grant to attend as artist in residence at a small crafts community in Finland. Originally from Vancouver, she's followed her own intuition and has learned what she can about an ancient process called Damascene Inlay.

I followed a former teacher turned orchardist around his Appleluscious orchard. He's the creator of the Saltspring Island Apple Festival now in its 10th year, set for September 28th. And, I sat on a deck with the most spectacular view of Mount Baker at the home of two peace activists from Ojai, California. They had "voted with their feet" and arrived on Saltspring sometime in 2003 because they could not spend one more minute living in the U.S. with George Bush as President surrounded by the ignorance and hatred they were subjected to whenever they peacefully protested the Iraq war. Through a series of events, they now manage/coordinate the Film Festival which showed 70 documentaries last year over a period of 3 days in March coinciding with International Women's Day.

It was a good trip and very timely to meet these people not so much because of what they're doing but because how they came to do it. They're all passionate about what they do as the creators of their own livelihoods. They don't make a lot of money. In fact, at this point in time the Film Festival is a voluntary full-time job and it's true they couldn't even do it if they had not had the money to take a leave from paid work.

I believe meeting these people has a role to play in shaping my thoughts about what I will be doing, if not where I will be living, in the not too distant future.

Intuition is pro-active. You're not following anyone else's breadcrumbs. You're trying to hear your own heart which knows your truths where all the answers you need to hear, reside.

Just listen!