Wee Gifts

Early one morning, I looked out the kitchen window and saw a tiny, flickering light through the Snow-laden Trees.

As I focused, wondering, more winking lights began to glow...all in a straight line.

As the Dawn progressed, the origin of the tiny lights became clear.  My neighbour lights candles, every morning, along the sill of her window. 


During these long Winter nights, ushering in the Dawn by lighting candles seems so appropriate to me.  I have taken to lighting candles along my kitchen window every morning; a sort of Good Morning, to my neighbour, if you will.


Candles warm my soul.  They emit only a small, flickering Fire, with very little warmth...but it is Light. 


That Light shines strong; the objects surrounding candlelight glow soft and welcoming.


One can almost be excused for thinking the weather outside is not so extremely cold, after all, with the candles cheerful light.


Candles are synonymous with Christmas, to me and many others. Cathedral or a small home or a cave...it makes no matter...candlelight gives cheer, for a very small price.


And they are the first thing I think of, during a power outage.  The lights from the candles create long shadows, emphasizing the silence which occurs when appliances and electronics shut down. What might be eerie becomes cordial and gracious.


It is during power outages when I think of pioneers who lived by candlelight. Those candles were made by hand, each one infused with the loving energy of the person who made them. Someone who made good candles, ones which did not sputter and cough, would be well in demand, I would think.


You see, my homemade candles never seem to work well.  I admire the handicraft of those who have the patience and the creativity to make their own candles, which burn smoothly and without smoke.


On the Coast, I had many places from which to choose candles. I have not found them here as yet.  But the other day, perusing a shelf in a store that had little choice for candles, I voiced my concern to a lady standing close to me.


And she said...I make candles. I sell them here and there...

I smiled, knowing once more my wants were being answered by the Universe. This happens more and more these days, where my desires are quickly filled.


After we exchanged telephone numbers, and I wandered deeper into the store, I mused upon how I am no longer surprised when my needs are almost instantly met. A mere thought, a tiny desire is all it takes, it seems.


And sometimes...sometimes I just receive a gift, when I don't even know I want or need it.  


Such as the candlelight shining through the Trees, on a deeply cold and dark Winter's morning.


Merry Christmas and a Wonderful Joyous New Year to you all!

Seductive Sun

This morning, the thermometer dipped to -35C. During the course of my life, I have never experienced temperatures this cold.

There is no Wind.  The Land  is still, shatteringly beautiful, and very silent. I haven't seen a Bird or a Squirrel for days.

The deep blue of the Sky against the differing shades of white Snow is an artist's dream. Sometimes, it looks to me as if the very Air is blue.


Surfaces feel fragile, as I walk around the ploughed areas of our property.  It feels as if I am walking on an enormous field of shattered shards of glass...the frozen Snow sticks to my boots and will build up, if I don't shake my foot.

The silence is punctuated, at times, by branches that crack sharply in the cold. There is Wind in the forecast, and I pray for the Standing Beings...with temperatures this cold, there will be breakage, with the subsequent power outages, and a Wind Chill temperature I don't want to think about.


As I crunch upon the packed Snow and Ice on the ploughed driveway, I watch the dogs. Their playfulness, when Snow first arrived, weeks ago, has been dampened by the cold.  The pads of their feet have not hardened, and they walk gingerly, fearful of the pain that occurs. They look at me with puzzlement in their eyes. The Sun is out, ...they tell me...Yet it is still so very cold!

It is only a few minutes before one dog, then another, begins to limp, begins to hold his feet off the packed Snow. They are learning to do their business quickly, these days!

After I insist the dogs go inside, ignoring their abject countenances, I continue on my walk.  I cannot go far as yet, but the fields of Snow are close to being frozen enough where they will hold my weight. Snowshoes once more come to mind.

I find the most difficult part of the deep cold is the sunny weather that goes along with it. The dogs are not alone.  The Sun beckons, reaching his long arms through the Window, with the pretence of warmth. I want to go outside; every cell in my body will not believe it is really this cold, with Sun pulling at me.


And yet, it is.  Even with proper clothing...layers of it...there is a limit to the amount of time even I can be outside. But I suppose I will challenge the cold over and over again...it is just too bright and cheerful...and seductive...to be ignored.

There appears to be no end in sight for the Arctic blast which covers the province; Christmas will be very white this year, especially in the Cariboo. Driving could be treacherous, I muse to myself...I will have to make sure the survival package is in the car before we head to the Coast on Christmas Day.


I look down at our home from the top of the driveway.  Small and compact, there are no drafts anywhere inside.  I am so grateful Graham managed to find a smaller home, amongst the large homes for sale at the time. I cannot imagine what a heating bill would look like here, for a large home not heated with Wood.


And with that thought, I think of the fireplace.  I think of the Big Chair and Ottoman, I think of a warming cup of Tea...with one of those delectable Tarts I made yesterday.



I think of how my legs appear to be stiffening in place. My joints cannot fight this cold, even with layers of clothing.


It is time to go in.

But only until the seductive Sun once more reaches inside the house with his long fingers, and beckons to us, with his wicked Winter grin.

Painting for Hope

This morning, I wanted to return to a time when I painted in watercolours...the Sunrise was a wash of lavenders, greys, blues and pinks...my fingers itched to put what I saw on paper.

I imagined the smooth glide of the Water and paint on a large brush, washing in the shades of greyish blues and pinky lavenders, on a smooth, unmarked sheet of paper...


I imagined how the Water I used to paint the loving message from Creator would flow directly to him...giving him my message for serenity and peace for the World in all its anguish at the present time.

This morning, while waiting for the Prime Minister to make his appearance in front of the Governor General's residence, I felt so very sad that Canada's government was in this divisive and confrontational position.
 
And at the same time, I felt the inevitability of it. Change is occurring at a rapid rate all over the World...Canada and its elected officials must change as well.  The old guard, with their outdated power hungry ways, will fall.

And so, I imagined my paint brush, filled with the pinky-lavender hue, signalling my acceptance...sending gratitude to Creator for giving me the ability to stand and watch this fearsome and chilling change...history in the making...in front of which my country stands.

As my brush sends ripples of coloured love towards the new Day light...I send my prayer for a united front...a front in which all the diverse population of Canada stands as one.

As the light washes onto my imaginary paper, I see illumination and understanding entering the picture...a faint line, as yet, but there all the same.


Far off, just outlining the hills...


I go in and hear the Governor General has allowed the prorogation or suspension of Parliament. I see and feel the shock of the media and the people surrounding them...it feels as if the Country has suddenly declared it will no longer hear the voice of the people, with Parliament closed.


It is deeply disturbing, as it is meant to be...it takes a great deal to shock me out of complacency.  It takes a great deal to wake me to what is really happening with the government of my country.


And I imagine I am not alone.  


My painting has suddenly been obscured by a deep, dark cloud...


And yet, as an ongoing student of history, I find it infinitely fascinating, at this time in my life,  to watch the eyes and body language of the politicians and spokespersons. To watch the auras and feel the energy...to really, really see.


Disinterest in government policies clouded my vision, for awhile. The scales only departed when the government's  last financial report came down...


I watch as my paint brush struggles to contain the light rimming the hills on the horizon, fighting the deep dark Cloud which threatens to overwhelm, having already obscured the loving colours of Sun's rising.


I fight and lose.  But it is only for a time...my painting can be begun anew, each Day.  Each Sunrise.

With my eyes and mind wide open to new possibilities, I will take a new sheet of paper tomorrow, and fill it with hope.


Hope for a country in limbo.