Paint It Red

Have I ever mentioned
that my favourite colour is red?

Yup, it catches my eye enough
to always turn my head.















Whether it be
mushrooms bright upon a tree

Or a dragonfly's gaze
staring back at me












When I feel the wind whistling by
I know fairy brushes are hanging to dry
in the forest glen on this warm day
as they've been busy painting my world so gay

A PA Day in November

At 3:00 PM this afternoon, the temperature went up to 17C (or 62F for my American friends). That was according to the Weather Network in my little corner of SW Ontario. It is mid-November and that has got to be pushing some kind of record (Yup, just checked the Weather again and we haven't seen that temperature on this day since 1964). I remember plenty a day when the world has been covered in white in years past. I know that Ms. C will slap me silly claiming I am jinxing the world, but I am still in a little bit of disbelief. It was just gorgeous with nary a cloud in the sky!

Ancient dinosaur wandering the woods

So rather than sit inside and cook, clean or tackle the never-ending laundry pile, we packed into the van and went a'wandering with friends in tow. It was a PA day for the girls, so a special treat to have such glorious weather to enjoy. We headed to a local park for the girls to play, then explored the forest surrounding it. My idea of a perfect day and these smiles give proof of the fun that we had.

The girls tamed the beast into a ride

Everywhere we went, we found giant stumps that I couldn't help but snap another picture of. The little hams were only too willing to climb up for their photo op.

After the woods were conquered, they ran back to the playground 

for one more round of swinging fun

Before calling it a day,

 noshing on dinner

and climbing into bed

 for sweet, sweet dreams

 of a day spent under a magnificent, clear blue November sky.

Sunday Suggestions: Part II

   The daylight has seeped from the world. Sunday winds its way towards its close. A lovely day it was though. The birdhouse is now completed (slightly incorrectly - what else is new!) and its fresh coat of paint is drying. Images of our morning saunter through the forest please my inner eye in reflection. The general swath of dull brown this time of year belied a rainbow of colours if one was to walk slow enough to see. Red berries and dogwood twigs punctuated vibrant green mosses and paler green grasses fading thru yellow. Purple clover played saucily at the base of white birch trees. A few yellow and orange leaves clung to branches fluttering in wisps of a breeze. Black and white chickadees flitted through barren brown branches of mighty oaks. Pale mushrooms nestled close to their bases for security. The Queen Anne's Lace retained its dignity in its delicateness along leaf covered pathways. The smells of a forest alive as it settled down for its long winter's nap was a balm for a seeking soul. How can one not find their breathe in such a serene moment.
   I must even share a brief epiphany if you will as we ambled up the last hill towards the parking lot. A mighty oak tree stood off on its own in the grasses to the right of the path. At some point it had split in two, but seemed to still be struggling on. I pointed the Grandfather out to the girls and commented that when it died it would help to feed the rest of the forest, therefore living on and fulfilling purpose. The thought struck a cord inside myself as well. I likened Brad to my Grandfather image, my oak tree example. Brad has died, but he continues to feed my soul and strengthen me. He provided for me so that I may grow and flourish. That is where I am now. I am slowly recovering from the loss of my dear oak tree, but being nourished by what is still left behind. It struck me as a beautiful image and truth. Perhaps it might for others as well.