SOTC 121/365

Towards Telus, a photo on Flickr by Gina Blank

Winter Berry Silhouette II (SOTC 77/365)

Still so many berries on the tree. Standing stark and slightly wrinkled against the winter sky. The birds had their fill over the summer, and have abandoned the berries as they move south for the winter, or burrow away from the cold.

Sometime in January, the birds will come out to play on an abnormally warm, sunny, winter afternoon. They will get drunk on the fermented berries, chirping and fluttering in a manner not so different from their human counterparts.

How many berries will still be on this branch when spring returns?

Dressed in Finest Gold (SOTC 75/365)

The elm trees form long, interconnected canopies up and down the streets of my neighbourhood. Season after season, the arched branches are dressed in nature's latest trends.

Winter tops each branch with frost and flakes. In springtime, sticky, shiny new buds of electric green burst forth from those same branches; a full cover of green evolves as summer's long days arrive.

Too soon, the days begin to shorten, and the air becomes crisp. By the end of September, a mottled mix of green and yellow decorate the streets. By October, the branches are dressed in their finest gold.

I stand there in the middle of the street, watching a soft and steady flutter of leaves trail down from the canopy above. In another week, this colour will all have vanished. In that in-between of November--after the leaves are gone, but before the snow has fallen--the trees will stand naked and colourless.

So I will stand for just another minute. And hold the colours as close as I can.

Winter Settling In

It's that time of year again. Layers. Foggy glasses. Ice on my windshield. Three feet of snow lining the driveway. Dark when I leave for work, dark when I come home; not exactly sunny during the hours in between, either.

Oh, winter.

In glimpses here and there, I do see its beauty. Slow, fluffy flakes, gracefully twirling down to the earth. Frosted branches lining the River Valley. Pristine snow fields, and their sparkle on that rare, sunny day.

But I tell ya, on the whole, winter is not exactly inspiring. My drive to take pictures of its beauty are trumped by the cold. My desire to be active outdoors is as fleeting as the sunshine. While in the summer, I am bursting through the back door to get to my garden, my hammock, my bike--the winter sees me sprinting into the house after work to get to my PJs, my blanket, my TV.

(And while yes, snow blowing does come with some feeling of satisfaction, I must say, it's been eating up a significant amount of my free time, and I'm about done with it.)

One thing I have recognized this year, though... is that while my general cravings--sunshine, the outdoors, taking pictures--seem suppressed by the cold and dark of winter, I am far from entering into sloth. I have simply traded those things in for activities that--I think--are more reflective of the pace of winter. Hot baths. One really good book after another. Tea. Yes, I do take in more television--but I don't really watch trash. The shows I watch tend to be as riveting for me as a good book. Plus, I generally have a cat on my lap. Win.

It is a season of drawing in, rather than exploring.
A season of wrapping myself up rather than spreading myself out.
And that is okay, too.

Every Day I'm Shovelling

It's not even 8am. Normally at this time, I am just getting my coffee prepped and my lunch into a bag before heading out the door. This morning, however, I was up just before 6, to bring my car in for 7, to get her winter tires put on. It's rough being up this early, but I always need to have one of the first appointments of the day, because I need my car for work.

Unfortunately, it was yesterday that Edmonton received nearly a foot of heavy, wet snow. I drove slowly, I drove carefully. I was not one of the roughly 200 motor vehicle accidents. (I was, however, one of the roughly one million snow blowing their driveway after work.)

My brother, having spent much of his adult life in Lethbridge, says this is the most snow he's seen at once in nine years. I told him if he can make it through his first winter here, he could make it anywhere (except maybe NWT). But I told him not to snow blow yesterday, and I'm kinda glad I did. I think he would have tapped out on winter entirely.

Snow blowing yesterday was about 10,000 kinds of awful. I generally quite like snow blowing. There is supreme satisfaction in watching several of inches of snow disappear under your feet. That being said, I have never had to blow through snow so thick and dense with wet. I lost count of how many times the pipe got clogged with snow (I had to scoop it out with a trowel every 5-10 ft. Who carries a trowel with them when they snow blow? Honestly.) Still quicker than shovelling manually, I cleared the driveway fairly well.

The snow continues to fall today. I will have to shovel. Or snow blow. I'm not sure which at this point. The weekend forecast calls for sunshine across the province, and I am hopeful of that.

A few blog posts ago, I talked about intentionally seeking beauty in every season. While this is only Day 2 of snow, it is day 5 (6? 7?) without sunshine. All week has been a "hazy shade of winter." Snow just adds insult to injury, but I think I am taking it in stride. Today. All the tree branches are topped with snow. In my ageing neighbourhood, it means the elm trees on each side of the street come together in a beautiful frosted canopy. While the backdrop is a little grey right now, the first sunny day will be glorious.

Today the flakes fall slow, gentle, fluffy. There is beauty in this, too. In another month, this will be downright holy.

"But You came like a winter snow,

Quiet and soft and slow

Falling from the sky in the night

To the earth below."

     -- Chris Tomlin

SOTC 32/365

I have been hermit-ish lately. I'm a homebody as it is, but this fall, I have been extra fond of spending my evenings and weekends simply breathing in the quiet space of my house.

I think it is, in part, due to a new roles and responsibilities at work that I have taken on this year. The learning curve is not steep, but it is steady. The work is fulfilling; also full.

So, I find myself even more content to simply spend my evenings at home, and my weekends at a slow pace. I find I am doing less with friends, and of course, because I overanalyze everything, I am constantly pondering if this is healthy. Is this just a season, or a red flag? (And a red flag of what?) Is this a social dynamic I used to embrace that I'm returning to, or is it a social dynamic I'm embracing now as I run from something else? 

I don't have answers.

But my gut feeling (which doesn't get nearly as much a air time as it deserves) is that this is a season.* One in which I am taking my strengths, the things I love to do, the things that bring peace--and embracing them more fully. Drinking deeper of them. And where I am taking the things I don't come by naturally, the things I push myself towards because I feel I must--and not forcing them anymore.

A season of less wheel-spinning and more enjoying the ride.
A season of less run-around and more strolling.
A season of less do and more be.




* Everything seems to be about seasons for me lately. 

Leaf on My Shoulder OR SOTC 31/365

It is well-known that summer is my favourite season. All that green, all that life, all that sunshine, all that warmth!

Still, there is beauty in every season. I have always known this, but I find my awareness of this truth heightened in the last year or so. Perhaps it comes with age. Or perhaps because, as a home owner, each season means something different for my space. Or perhaps because I'm taking more pictures. Whatever the reason, this past year, I have really noticed the seasons more, and have been trying to embrace the beauty that they bring. Still, knowing a truth, and believing it are sometimes two different things. For example, you could not have convinced me two winters ago that winter was beautiful. Aside from the bajillion inches of snowfall and lack of sunshine, there was too much going on in my own life to be happy about most of that winter. As another example, several years ago, as I was still fresh dealing with separation from my husband, autumn didn't even register.

I think the beauty we see in the seasons is heavily impacted by what else is going on in our lives. And I think, in part, it might be one of the reasons God imparted a planet in the universe that rotates around the sun such that seasons exist. Spring, summer, autumn, winter. Spring, summer, autumn, winter. Regardless of what else is going on, these seasons happen. Spring, summer, autumn, winter. They may each look a little different from year to year, but the seasons are a constant in a world that constantly changes, in circumstances that are different from one moment to the next.

I mean, how awful would it be if the soft cherry blossoms of spring--or juicy summer berries, or the rich colours of autumn, or pristine fields of winter white--only occurred once, and it was during a challenging time of your life, and you missed it?

I think my sense of hope would dwindle.

I do think that God wants us to marvel in the beauty of each season every year, regardless of our own personal lives. The whole of creation is for His glory--we should always be acknowledging and praising that! And yet, paradoxically, I think God recognizes our brokenness. Our own human nature often gets in the way of recognizing the blessing of creation that He has given us. And so, He repeats these seasons, knowing that we may miss the amazing beauty here and there, and mercifully giving us the next season as an opportunity to praise.

...There is a leaf on my shoulder in this photograph. I didn't notice it until I uploaded the photo onto my computer. And I suppose I could have Photoshopped it out, but the leaf is evidence of leaves raked, rolled in, and tossed. I am enjoying the autumn colours, the autumn sunshine, soaking up His creation by rolling around in it a little. :)

I have a leaf on my shoulder.

Way better than a chip, I'd say.

287/365

Nothing marks the transition of seasons like an eczema flare-up.*




* And by the looks of my hand, dry skin all around. Ah, Alberta!

House & Home OR 83/365

A year ago this weekend, I moved into my house. Of all the 'anniversaries' that could exist in one's world, it surprises me how much this one stands out for me. But it blows my mind a little bit that I have lived in this house for one year already (and yet, only for one year!).

The last year I have ridden several different learning curves, including the new experiences that come with owning a house. Several blog posts this year have focused on my home and garden. Clearly, an exciting and important topic for me. Even so, those reflect only a small percentage of the daily discoveries I encountered around my home this past year.

I love my house.

• I love the way the sun streams through the kitchen window and right into my bedroom on summer and Saturday mornings.
• I love the warm colours of each room.
• I love that I can do a three-point turn in my driveway.
• I love the space in my garage.
• I love not having to plug the car in in the winter because I have garage.
• I love the copious amounts of sunlight the back yard receives.
• I love that I am situated on such a neighbourly street.
• I love how the bathroom is slightly warmer than the rest of the house when the furnace is on. This makes getting ready for work in the dark of autumn and winter that much more tolerable.
• I love the fruit-bearing plants I didn't know I had!
• I love that if I plug the vacuum into the outlet under the kitchen table, I can reach every room of the house without having to re-plug the cord in elsewhere!
• I love the feel of my living room (not sure if it would be considered feng-shui, but it's the nicest room in my house!).
• I love having a gas stove!
• I love having enough room for everything.
• I love that plants seem to enjoy it here, too (i.e. they grow).
• I love that it's mine.

I generally got excited when people asked me about my house. With each change in the seasons, it was like having a whole new house. Now that I am starting the cycle over again, so to speak, I will have a comparison point. "Last year I never had to..." or "this will be easier this year because..." I think I will still get excited when people ask about my house. Which is good. It means we get along well together. :)

Seasonally Torn

Hudson's had billboards around Edmonton this summer advertising its patio. They were horrible. In June, the billboards stated, "only 18 weeks until it snows" with details about the patio in smaller print underneath. In mid-August the signs had changed to, "only 10 weeks until it snows." Driving through Edmonton in a tank top and shorts, with the windows rolled down and the sun warm upon my skin, my brain's happy functioning screeched to a halt every time I drove past one of those billboards. Even though I was basked in warmth, sunglasses on, with summer tunes exuding from my car's speakers, reading the word 'snow' raised up an instant reactionary urge to hunker down in my bed under my feather comforter and hide from the dark and cold. My fellow sunshine-loving friend captures the feeling exactly: "it makes me hurt on the inside."

I just love summer. This summer felt particularly short after two years of unseasonably warm Augusts and Septembers. I have been adjusting to the beginnings of autumn relatively well, I think, but the word 'snow' is still quite painful. And yet...

I was flipping through a magazine this evening, and showcased on this one page were several styles of winter boots that are 'in' this season. This reminded me of my own winter boots, which were new last year. Currently, my winter boots are sitting in a box in N&S's garage, waiting to move into my as-of-yet-unpurchased house. But looking at all those boots in the magazine, and thinking of how wonderful my boots were last year, I suddenly craved winter. Well, maybe not so much winter. But my boots. Last winter, my feet stayed SO warm! With each snowy footprint, it was as if my boots were saying, "ha! Take that, snow!" I don't crave winter, exactly, but the toasty, comfortable feeling of things like warm boots, crackling fire places, cozy blankets while watching TV. ...Except... these things only come with winter. So torn.

I changed over my coffee and kitchen table centerpieces to autumn decor the other day. Their colours are warm. Their ginger-cinammon-y scent brings to mind leaves crunching underfoot, late afternoon sun glowing through yellow trees, crisps and crumbles for dessert. ...All pleasant.

Hello, again, autumn.