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!

A Golden Light

We are presently enjoying the most wonderful Autumnal weather.  Cold in the mornings, warm in the afternoons, and cool in the evenings...perfect conditions for a beautiful Fall.

Chrysanthemums are unfolding their frilly heads, in my garden. Sunflowers don't seem to mind a bit of Frost. They have bloomed all Summer, through drought, Hail, and Wind Storms. And even so, their bright, inquisitive heads peer through foliage, cheering my Heart...my Soul.

The Aspens, the Birches, the foliage of Rose and Saskatoon and Blueberry...all glow golden in the morning Sun, with a deep, deep blue Sky as a backdrop. I am astounded to find tears in my eyes, some mornings when I stand with my cup of coffee in hand, and survey the lower Forest. The golden light seems to shine profoundly within me and I stretch my arms to embrace it, sending gratefulness to the beams of Light. 

Tomatoes, in large pots on the deck, did not do well. There was no vegetable plot; against my better judgement, I planted seedlings in big pots. I believe Tomato requires the nutrients a good garden soil provides, over a wider area than a receptacle can possibly give. The soil lends flavour.

 
However, the plants produced a bowl of wonderful green Tomatoes. I use these to add acidity to a casserole or stew, both of which are served often, in the cool of the evening. 

I have a pair of huge Ferns, hanging by the front door.  I must bring them in, I think, as I water them during the warm afternoon. Where will I put them? They will take up a corner of a room easily. It remains a conundrum.
 
I have delineated garden beds, with our own homegrown Boulders and filled them with soil. The garden begins to take shape, filling an empty well in my Soul. 


Hydrangeas, which I bought lavishly in the Spring, now bloom profusely...still in their pots. I feel an urgent need to plant them; their messages cannot be ignored any longer.

I bought bags of Daffodil bulbs in Town the other day, remembering my vow to plant them throughout the Forest. I did not buy near enough to fulfil my pledge, yet it is a beginning. Even if their golden heads will sway and nod much later here than on the Island...to me, they herald Spring. No matter how late it might be.


I notice Squirbel on his usual hunt and hide.  I send good energy towards him; he stops his busy movements and looks my way.  I think...Perhaps he is crabby because he was thrown out of his nest, when his kittens were born, as all male Squirrels are. Now, perhaps, he hasn't yet found himself a new abode...it would make anyone anxious.


The impossible red hue of the Geraniums comes into view. Red Geraniums have followed me everywhere I have lived...only the true red variety, however. The colour is strong, seeming to be lit from within, sending rays of powerful energy my way. 


The blaze of red is the first plant I see when I return home. Geranium welcomes me with her fiery, warm heart, telling me I am home, safe and sound. My plans for her include placing her near our Guardian Boulder so she can send her lovely energy to visitors and passersby.

Upon looking skyward, I see the bronzed gold of the Aspens etched against the deep blue horizon...and suddenly, it feels like I have been sent a message from Creator.  My heart lifts.



It is difficult to imagine the snowy landscape that will greet me, in the not too distant future.  These days are balmy and sweet; I won't think about raging blizzards and long, dark days ahead. Instead, I will just enjoy.


There is much to be said for the here and now.


And so it goes...