Panorama ~ Jasper, Alberta. Click for wide view.
Panorama ~ Jasper, Alberta. Click for wide view.
Category Archives: life
January Escape to Jasper
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Taking the train across the northern prairies into mountain country is a delight: columnar conifers slipping by, lake surfaces luminescent in the moonlight…
We splurged on a winter deal at Jasper Park Lodge – admittedly a cushy way to experience the wilds of the mountains. From the Great Hall, crackle of fireplace nearby, comforting beverage in hand, bum firmly planted in cushioned armchair, this is the view that greets you:
And then there’s the view from the trail. Worth getting up for!
How amazing that there is a culturally approved opportunity to bring a real live whole tree into my home to sit in the front window of the living room for all the passers-by to see! It’s such an odd tradition, seen with fresh eyes. Why do we do it? There’s never a holiday where we bring a boulder into our homes.
Whatever the original reason, I’m delighted we do. I love trees. They’ve grown to have a significant place in my pantheon of spiritual practice. It began on a walk I used to take regularly on a path that led beside a row of evergreen trees. They called to me to brush their branch tips with my bare fingers. In winter I’d take off a mitt to let the direct contact happen. I was surprised to notice that I felt a subtle… something. Their energy, is one way of putting it. The trees of a park a little further down the path would call me to place my palm directly on their trunks, standing quietly with the tree. This palm-to-trunk contact inexplicably produces a calming, grounded effect in me.
The weekend has arrived when we must say farewell to the tree that has shared our home for weeks. I sit in the armchair beside it, artificial lights turned off in the dim morning light, so that the tree’s own spirit can shine through. I have treated it as a presence unto itself this year – welcoming it to my home and greeting it with a “hello, tree” occasionally.
I feel somewhat at odds with the tradition, though – much as I love having the tree in my home, it is a selfish human act. Of course it is dying – has been ever since it was cut – and soon it will be a mound under the snow in the alley.
But even well after cutting, I’ve found that wood retains its spirit. Furniture, walls, stairways, or flooring of wood can have the same effect. A certain cut across the grain to produce a thick sloping table edge fits the human hand well for that buzz of palm-contact. There’s something mysteriously special about trees – when we scurrying bipeds slow our pace enough to soak up their presence.
Dark of Winter
The wheel of the year turns, bringing us round to the dark time. It is the season of long, deep nights, with restful darkness drawn about us like a soft quilt: that comfort at the heart of winter.
The ethereal blessing of prairie winter nighttime is the abundance of bright, reflective snow. Every light picked up a million-fold in the water crystals along the surface of their banks and fields. It mysteriously hangs twinkling in the air as if snow fairies had just danced by. It is a beautiful, magical season.
And now, on solstice morning, we’re “half-way through the dark,” as they so aptly put it in a Christmas Dr. Who episode not so long ago. The dark and light ebb and flow, like the ocean tides in celestial slow motion. The darkness now begins receding – and as I sit by my window on this sacred morning, I feel a friendly loneliness for it at the prospect.
The university at the end of the rainbow
Winter Rainbow!
Very unusual for this northern prairie spot to have rainbows in the winter – this one from last Saturday (Nov 30) is the latest occurring one we’ve noticed here.
Snow falling in the lamp light
A fluffy grey blanket hangs overhead; the air fills with glittering crystals; and a deep soft carpet sparkles below. The snow swirling around the park lampposts in the dim early morning light conjure childhood tales of Narnia adventure, or cozy Christmas movies.
“And then she saw that there was a light ahead of her; not a few inches away where the back of the wardrobe ought to have been, but a long way off. Something cold and soft was falling on her. A moment later she found that she was standing in the middle of a wood at night-time with snow under her feet and snowflakes falling through the air….
She began to walk forward, crunch-crunch, over the snow and through the wood towards the light.
In about ten minutes she reached it and found that it was a lamp-post. As she stood looking at it, wondering why there was a lamp-post in the middle of a wood and wondering what to do next, she heard a pitter patter of feet coming toward her.”
~C. S. Lewis
New nature word! COTONEASTER
Well, more of a new pronunciation. When I moved to this spot I was told the hedge around the front was “Cotton-Easter,” invoking images of fuzzy bunnies and colourful egg-laden baskets – rich fertility symbols from days of yore. I named the place “Cotoneaster Cove,” for its protective U shaped hedge.
Cotoneaster Cove
When I first moved from pavement-bound downtown to here, I felt so tree-deprived that when I looked out the window at this tangle of bare branches I felt relief – as if my neurons were tangibly growing and connecting, stirring old, dusty connections from my youth. Continue reading
Hops in the Snow
Autumn Long Grass
Late Autumn Grass
This season I’ve been noticing the beauty of the long grasses where they have found a home to grow in the city – the edges of gardens, yards, fencelines, along parks and ditches. Banks of tawny brown, punctuated by flame-licks of bright yellow; tufts of orange and red – jewels of the natural world. Once you start noticing them, these gems are everywhere! A little taste of the countryside, here in the usual paths of urban life.
Full Moon!
Several years ago I began incorporating the moon cycle into my lifestyle. I take care to notice when the moon is full and when it is dark, and give it concrete meaning in my life by slightly altering my diet on those days. This involved depending on a moon calendar until two dogs became a part of my life – now I can’t help but notice this heavenly body slipping in and out through the mornings and evenings!
I feast at the full moon and do a fast of sorts at the dark moon. I explore the symbolism and energy that people have found meaningful in these rhythms and I develop personal meaning for myself.
The moon cycle is a reminder for me that fluctuation is a natural part of life. Sometimes things go smoothly, sometimes life is painful or disappointing. Sometimes health is good, sometimes health is troublesome. Sometimes it’s easy to be happy, sometimes sadness overwhelms.
At the full moon, I feast by adding cream and sugar to my afternoon coffee, enjoying a glass of wine at supper, buying a bakery treat for dessert. As I indulge I say: “Sometimes life is sweet.”
At the dark moon, I often fast from sugar and treats, drinking black coffee, eating plain food, no alcohol. As I deprive I say: “Sometimes life is bitter.”
These ritual observances help to ground my life experience in an understanding of change and cycles – life feels good now: enjoy, and be ok with the knowledge that it isn’t always like this; life hurts now: this is a natural part of existence; it doesn’t feel this way forever.
Happy October Full Moon!
Field to Forest 