Demeter's Sorrow

Winter approaches slowly and my hill is crispy frosted. They are predicting snow next week!  I thought I would like to grab my camera and take a few photos and so...

a road trip to Shawnigan Lake on the island brought back memories of summer holidays long ago with my family. My sister tells me that the cabin is still there but for some reason I could not find it.  Many of our family are gone now but the love and memories remain as clear and shining as the lake on a calm day.

It was a typical holiday for us ( mom, dad, my sister and two brothers) with mom still cooking away at the cabin stove - " the cook never gets time off!"- and relatives, grandparents and friends, visiting, dropping in and staying a few days.  We swam,  sunbathed, waterskied with Dad, ate ice cream in the little village, and put pennies on the railway tracks to be flattened by the historic old E&N which roared by every day -Dad's suggestion- he also claimed we could make peanut butter this way.  We explored,  spent our days with each other and friends, and sat up at night telling stories. It all seemed timeless.
I was a strong swimmer and one evening at midnight I decided to swim "skyclad" like a mermaid, alone in the lake while others slept-  probably not the safest thing to do but something that satisfied the  waking romantic girl/woman inside me-  called by the stars into the cool dark lake.   Another time, our little brother fell off the wharf and I jumped in and pulled him out. All I remember was that he was there playing and then there was a splash and his friend pointing at the water which rippled and churned outward. With relief I hugged him tightly!!  Our sweet Dean!! 

My mother's last dream was of summer on the lake!!

 

the summer lake long ago

( a few memories from my dad's collection of old home movies)

and a visit?

This last while has been full of synchronicity. The local news produced on the TV  an older political rally which showed my dad participating and talking.    A few days later while moving some papers in the closet an old letter from my father fell out that could have been written yesterday!! It was very timely and addressed something I had been thinking about the last few days.  The universe speaks!!  and it's all good!

What we did find at Shawnigan 

Frosted fields  

 

 

 

 

         Rankin family                                                                                                  

and a Link to the forest of dreams

Around Victoria Night and Morning!

Twilight Symphony

 

an evening walk in Portage Park

 

 

 

As I watched the gusting clouds against the night  sky, with the moon winking in and out I grabbed the camera and went for a long exposure. The lights of the Esquimalt neighbourhood became a jewel box and reflected the colours onto the spreading clouds.

Sky clad Nut, queen of the night, her fine flowing muslin gown flung with stars. 

 

 

The Breakwater Beacon

(another long exposure shot)

 

Sparklers and painted ships in the inner harbour at Ogden Point

 

Illuminated Parliament (not sure about it's members)

 

Blessed Morning

 

November 11, 2013

Lest we forget!

 

the larks still bravely singing fly

 

 

 

 

   

Veteran's Memorial Park, Langford

 

Autumn Hymns of the Morning Warrior

There is something quite magical and mysterious in the early hours of morning and especially when the fog has crept in which it has these last weeks. To wake up to the sound of fog horns on the harbour and see the ghostly outlines of trees and houses always inspires me to grab the camera and head out toward the water or the woods. It's a quest to follow a sunbeam path that splits the mist into glowing ribbons amongst the trees or to listen to the nuances of a bird melody and the symphonies of hidden places.

 

walking  to School

 

To be true to oneself and to others is not always easy.  I almost always try to think outside the box (out in the ethers!) which has at times isolated me but has also brought me some wonderful friends and encounters from the universe. I will stop to hear the singing on the wind but there have been times that the path has taken me to a dead end too. It's important not to lose heart -and as Castaneda said "we can make ourselves happy or we can make ourselves  miserable- the amount of work is the same!"

 

“In a world where death is the hunter, my friend, there is no time for regrets or doubts. There is only time for decisions.” from the Journey to Ixtlan

  

early one morning

 

 

 Portage Park

 

 Misty path

 downy woodpecker

Halloween and Samhain Oct 31, 2013

  Dead Alice says come in, with Brian, as Fire for fiddle, the fiend from the fell