Mental Meandering on Life and Writing by Carol J. Garvin (aka Careann)
There’s frost here this morning. Our shake roof glistens white in the sunshine, and trails of mist play at the edges of the marsh. An e-mail from family in the southeastern corner of the province brought photos of their first major snowfall — 22 cm that delighted the children but required plowing at 5 a.m.Continue reading “Skipping the present to get to the future”
Sharing another post from the archives. ~ A friend of mine dreads autumn because it heralds the coming of winter, which she hates. To me that’s like not wanting summer to come because Thanksgiving will follow, or disliking spring rains because of the impending summer’s heat. At first glance it’s irrational. I do understand, however,Continue reading “A Little Seasonal Meandering”
. The autumn colours entice my camera and me out onto woodland paths where vine maples are showing off. Returning to the back yard I check the lone tree that stretches toward the garden from within the woods. Its colours are changing, too, but I’m disappointed to find a brown blight that spots its leaves.Continue reading “Imperfections in Life and Writing”
During our travels this past weekend we climbed mountain passes where cooler temperatures had created autumn’s colours in all their God-given glory. The first couple verses of Pierpoint’s hymn, “For the Beauty of the Earth” repeatedly sang themselves in my head and made my heart join in: For the beauty of the earth, For the gloryContinue reading ““For the Beauty of the Earth…””
. . Berries black and purple stain lips and fingertips as we pluck the heaviest from prickled vines, and eat twice as many as make it into the bucket. . Blackberry picking still evokes memories of many island holidays — a bramble-lined, gravel driveway to the big green gate with a weathered ‘Westgyle’ sign… .Continue reading “Blackberry Memories”
. Rain spills from the sky, sloshing down my windows, washing away last month’s accumulation of dust, and puddling on the abandoned patio table. Trees reflect on the water-slickened deck, while tiny droplets hover on the edge of the eaves, swelling until they suddenly drip into oblivion. Elsewhere leaves are watered off limbs and intoContinue reading “A Wet Welcome to Fall”
Soft and silent snow Aftermath of windswept flakes Whispers of winter ~ Lonely autumn leaves Chilled by a crystal blanket Drop dying colours Wealth and honor come from you; you are the ruler of all things. In your hands are strength and power to exalt and give strength to all. Now, our God, weContinue reading “Whispers of Winter”
On the way into town today leaves fluttered from trees and floated across the road in windy disarray. So many barren branches compared to just a week ago. Now that clocks have been turned back, the extra few minutes of morning light are welcome, but evening sunsets are too early. It’s hard to steel myselfContinue reading “Autumn Nostalgia”
Writing discoveries sometimes come from strange sources. Late last week I wandered around our yard on a sunny afternoon, noting the decline of summer perennials and enjoying the few remnants of late fall colours. The lilac leaves that usually provide a rich burgundy display were turning from green to yellow to dead on the ground. Continue reading “Discovering the Shadows”
Glimmers of golden sunshine slice through the woods, splashing stripes of light onto the lawn. Beyond the trees the marsh will be aglow with sparkles tipping the ripples made by a dozen Mallards, glossy green and mottled brown, feeding in the grasses and reeds. I heard the geese earlier. We have two pair that nestContinue reading “Evening Light”
MUSINGS