Friday Favourites: Sunny Days

 

On an afternoon walk one day this week a raucous honking of geese caused me to stand still and look up. An enormous skein, or perhaps several skeins trailed across the sky in wavering lines. Many geese stay here for the winter, but every autumn they still form their V-shape lines and cross the sky, heading who knows where. 

When I was a child, we lived in a small town with minimal shopping. For the clothing that my mother did not sew, she relied on the Sears catalogue. The volumes arrived several times each year and from it my parents made orders, mailing cheques and the order form to the company. In a week or two the phone rang and we went down to the small office to pick up our purchases. Then for many years we did not order anything, but purchased everything locally.

I was reminded of this one day this week when several boxes of varying sizes arrived at our door. A new phone for me, a Christmas present for a grandchild, some bedding, and an enormous box containing a new mattress. We have never purchased a mattress without trying it out. Have you? It's made in Canada and is a hybrid - part foam and part coils. Tim wrestled the box upstairs and we opened it in the guest room. It took a couple of hours to spring to its full form. Interesting. 

It seems that everyone is buying more and more things online, much like the old mail order we used to do. Buying locally is still preferable, but often I cannot find what I want in a store. I try to order directly from the company rather than from that online store beginning with A. 

We've enjoyed some sunny days between the rain. Both kinds of days hold their own delights, but my heart gives a little leap when I'm outside under blue skies, especially in November. I took myself to Island View Beach where puffy clouds ringed the horizon, but overhead was a great bowl of clear blue. 

On my way home I admired the view from the hill overlooking fields. I identified purple cabbage, brussels sprouts, and leeks as I drove by. This week I helped my daughter plant 300 garlic plants. And I've been sewing a rather fiddly project that I had hoped to show you today, but it will have to wait for next week. 

Last year I painted an Advent calendar along with Harriet de Winton on her YouTube channel. She's doing one again this year and I've prepared my blank calendar. They can be ordered from her, and are much prettier than my plain lines and numbers, but I can't print on watercolour paper on my printer, so I just drew my own. 

Here's the link if you're interested. Harriet de Winton Beginning on December 1 she posts a short video tutorial on her site for anyone to paint along. 

The days are speeding along towards Advent and Christmas, my favourite time of year. I'm making lists and checking them twice! 

Making Room for November

 

How early darkness falls these November days. Even on sunny days the light is mostly gone by 4:30 pm, and today was not sunny. Rain dripped steadily for most of the day, creating a rather gloomy atmosphere indoors and out.

Outside my window

It's Thursday evening and very dark. I've seen wonderful photos of the Northern Lights from the past couple of days, but we saw nothing here due to a lot of cloud cover. I spent some time at my younger daughter's home this afternoon and from her window I watched two deer feeding not 20 feet from the house. One looked at me, chewing steadily, very unconcerned. Ashley showed me a photo of two male deer with their antlers locked taken from the same window a couple of days ago. They are being very careful with the little girls since the deer are everywhere just now, and a bear was sighted in the neighbour's yard. 

I am thinking

about many things. Next month will be filled with Advent followed by Christmas festivities. I know that stores are filled with decorations and lifestyle bloggers have their houses already prepared for Christmas, but I like to wait. Anticipation adds to the excitement. This month is for making plans and thinking ahead. November is often characterized as a dreary month, and today's weather might have confirmed that, but there is much comfort in lighting lamps and candles, wrapping oneself in a cozy shawl for reading, and enjoying cups of tea or hot chocolate in the evening. I want to make room for this month that gets a bit of bad press. 

I am reading

or planning to read the two books above that I purchased with some birthday money. It was very difficult to choose from all the wonderful books available. Jane Austen for Every Day of the Year has a beautiful cover and a gold ribbon. What an insightful and witty writer Jane was. This year marks 250 years since her birth. 

I enjoy the cozy mysteries of Sophia Bennett featuring Queen Elizabeth II helping to solve the crimes. Lighthearted and fun. 

I am planning to read

both of the above books, also part of my birthday gift, in December, and I can hardly wait. I've been very good about not peeking, but it's difficult, particularly the Tolkien book. I'll be collecting my Christmas-themed reading together soon. 

In my kitchen today

I baked bread and enjoyed a warm slice with pumpkin soup for lunch. I also baked a panful of brownies for my husband to take to his beekeeping meeting this evening. Fortunately, not all of them fit on the plate, so there are a few to enjoy at home. 

I am pondering

these lines from Shakespeare: 

"Our doubts are traitors

and makes us lose the good we oft might win

by failing to attempt"

I wonder how many good things or experiences I have missed because of personal doubts and fears. Rather than bemoan the good I could have done, I'm letting these lines remind me to not let my doubts paralyze me, and rather pray for courage to do what I can.

I am enjoying

two types of Murchies tea. I'm always on the lookout for decaf black teas to drink in the afternoons. So far I've tried the Black Currant and it's delicious. A little chocolate along with tea is a lovely pick-me-up.

Other small delights are

* shepherd's pie for dinner

* a few last flowers from the garden

* feeling the cool night air over my face when 

I'm snuggled into my bed

* standing with my back to the fire to warm up

I am creating

a present for a young granddaughter - a play tent with dolls, sleeping bags, and clothes. It's going well. Lists for gifts are being created and items ticked off. We don't purchase a lot, but it's always fun to choose things for the littles and not-so-littles. 

And that's it for Friday's post. Tomorrow morning we're going out for coffee with friends and on Saturday there's a family birthday party for my daughter, daughter-in-law, and myself - a brunch get together. 

I apologize for the photos in this post. Once I took them off my camera and saw them here I realized how poor the light was. 

Wishing you a weekend filled with small delights.

Creatures Great and Small

 

We arrived safely home after our long drive, with enough time to stop at my parents' home for a visit before driving to the ferry. After the cold crisp dry mountain air, everything felt a wee bit damp here on our island. I thought I'd show you some of the wildlife we encountered on our trip to Jasper. Above is the cheekiest raven. He is perched on the hood of our truck, and seemed to think it his kingdom. I rolled down my window and leaned way out to take this photo. He didn't budge. Finally, when we began driving, off he flew with one last hoarse protest. 

There were Mountain Sheep along the road to Maligne Lake. How agile they are, lightly tripping down steep rock faces and jumping over gaps. These animals live in the National Park and are not threatened by humans who treat them with respect and stay the prescribed distance away. 

We had nine sightings of moose, including this unusual one of a bull moose (there were two cows among the trees) peacefully chewing his cud while lying in the snow. 

Later, another bull moose and cow crossed the road in front of us, taking their time before disappearing into the forest. 

It's amazing how birds stay warm in frigid water. I believe this is a Western Grebe paddling along in glacier water. 

A cow moose, one of the two who were lying in the trees the day before. The bull was nowhere in sight, but we saw both cows slowly cross a meadow just below our vehicle, stopping to chew the grasses still visible. Soon snow will cover the ground and these non-hibernating animals will rely on trees such as willows for their winter food. 

We saw several groups of female elk. They wander through town at dusk. Rounding a corner on the Maligne Lake road late one afternoon we came across two bull elk. They were feeding in the burned forest. The white trees in the background have lost their burned bark. Soon willows and shrubs will grow up among them, but the trunks will stand as sentinels to the fires for decades. 

Not many birds were about and I wondered about this small American Dipper. Accustomed as he is to cold water, he had to dodge the ice forming at the edge of the lake. Such a hardy little bird.

In 1908 Mary Schaffer and her party reached Maligne Lake and travelled its length by raft. She later wrote that at the far end of the lake, "there burst upon us...the finest view any of us had ever beheld in the Rockies." It was truly magnificent, a view that filled my own heart and soul. 

Also at the lake is a boathouse built in 1908. It's the last remaining structure of the early days of recreational boating on Maligne Lake. Behind the boathouse is Samson Peak. The day was cloudy but the mountains were mostly visible. 

I am so glad that there are vast areas preserved from development. People from all over the world come to this area and it's a delicate balance between allowing some access while preserving the wildness. If we had come during the summer, a constant stream of cars would drive along the roads where we saw one or two vehicles, and every parking lot would be full. 

Remembrance Day is tomorrow, a time to honour those who gave their lives for the freedoms we enjoy today. There will be services at the cenotaphs, and many Canadians have worn a red poppy in our lapels for the past week. We must never forget, and always work toward peace. 

A Jaunt Into the Rockies

 

Early this week we left our island home, crossed the Strait on a ferry, and enjoyed dinner with my parents and siblings. Monday morning saw us slip quietly out of the house in the early morning darkness, and drive up over the Coastal Mountains (snow!), down into the interior plateau, winding along a river and through another mountain pass to arrive at Jasper, Alberta. The almost full moon welcomed us on our first night, glowing through the clouds. 

Jasper National Park lies next to its larger and probably more famous neighbour, Banff National Park. It had its beginnings as a fur trading post, then a railway town. The trains come and go here throughout the day, but quietly, with no whistles. In July 2024 wildfires swept the surrounding mountains, burning up to the tree line. To add to the devastation, 30 percent of the townsite burned - private homes, small business, hotels, and historic churches. There is a huge building program going on now to replace these structures. Everyone we spoke with was very positive about the future.

The smell of the burned forest still wafts through the area. Denuded trees stand as tall sentinels to the fierce winds and flames that ravaged hectares and hectares of land. 

The temperature on our first day exploring was COLD for us. -10 degrees Celsius. I layered up as much as I could, and then wore Tim's down vest over my down jacket. There was no snow in town, but when we drove to Maligne Lake, snow crunched underfoot and ice is forming on the edge of the lake. 

Such amazing scenery. We were in awe at every turn, surrounded by high peaks whose crags and ridges were highlighted by snow. 

Curves of water and rocks lead the eye to the tall peaks. Clear blue sky all day made everything crisp and bright. 

Jasper is about 360 kilometres further north than our home (and 878 km to drive). By 3 pm shadows slant long across the ground and the sun slips behind the mountains much earlier than we're used to. Above you can see the golden grasses - the first plants to grow under the burned forest. It's truly amazing how nature is rejuvenating. Beauty from ashes. 

That first day we also visited Athabasca Falls. Water levels are low at this time of year, but there was still plenty of thundering and crashing. Icicles are formed by the spray from the falls. 

And soon the sun slides beneath the hills as the water calms into the wide river. 

That gorgeous glacier green/blue water reflects everything beautifully. The fires burned right to the water. 

Tomorrow we drive home. It will take about 8.5 hours to the ferry, then 90 minutes to cross and 30 minutes from there. We've had such a wonderful time and there are more stories to tell. I'm looking forward to catching up with all of you once I'm settled again. 

Blogtober 31: And That's a Wrap

 

Outside in the darkness, fireworks snap and crackle. The doorbell has stopped ringing and we brought in the candle and pumpkin, and turned out the light. What fun when we opened the door to see three grandchildren decked out in their costumes. 

October's leaf party has been spectacular this year. Lots of colour and piles of leaves to scuff through. We've enjoyed some lovely hikes, a bit of gardening on sunnier days, a few outings, and lots of quiet evenings at home. 

Thank you for reading along during this month of daily postings. I so appreciate each of you in this virtual space. I've been blogging for many years and have come to think of this little space as my home on the vast digital planet. 

More rain is in the forecast and sodden leaves will soon sink into the ground, decay, and feed the forest. Tomorrow night we turn the clocks back and November will arrive. My eldest daughter has a birthday tomorrow and informed the family that she will have 25 hours of birthday festivities rather than the usual 24. She's a teacher and is looking forward to sleeping in tomorrow morning. 

November lies ahead, 30 days of opportunity. See you soon. 

 

Blogtober 30: Another Year Around the Sun

 

I awoke a bit later this morning and was so pleased to see light outside rather than inky darkness. It's a little taste of the brighter mornings after the time change on Saturday night. I met with my writer's group today. Gathering with likeminded people is both encouraging and inspiring. Just like coals in a fire need each other to keep the flame alight, we humans are social creatures and need each other to thrive. 

My walk this morning went through the woods where all kinds of fungi hang out. Big ones and tiny ones. About half way through my walk I wished I'd worn gloves. The breeze was sharp and carried with it a strong reminder that it's the end of October. 

A cute mushroom nestled in the bark of a fallen tree looks like a very tiny person might emerge from the cavity and set off on a walk with a natural umbrella. 

This afternoon my youngest daughter invited us over for scones and tea. Homemade apricot jam alongside. And a hand-painted card with a lovely message. Utterly delightful. 

I'm posting a bit earlier tonight because friends are coming over and we will cut into this beautiful cake my husband ordered. Lemon and white chocolate. Mouthwatering. 

It's been a lovely birthday. Another trip around the sun. I am thankful to God for the gifts of life and health, for family and friends. The world is full of such immense beauty alongside the brokenness we see in the news every day. While not ignoring the hard things, and doing what I can to alleviate suffering (which isn't much), I choose to focus on the loveliness of small things and nature. 

On a lighter note, Agatha Christie once said, "An archaeologist is the best husband a woman can have. The older she gets the more interested he is in her." 

Blogtober 29: An Ordinary Day

 

The newly cleaned brass candlesticks are on the mantel again. I like the clustered look with different shapes. It was a sunny day, a bit windy, but bright and clear. 

After a morning spent tidying and cooking in the house, I took myself off for a walk. Quaking Aspen leaves glinted like gold in the breezy sunshine. And the sound - so lovely. Cottonwoods grow nearby and I noticed how similar their leaf shape is to the Aspens, just bigger. Sure enough, they're related. I'm tickled to learn this little new fact. 

For most of the summer the pond has been very dry and the ducks absent. With the recent rain, the water is trickling back and the ducks have returned. They quacked loudly to warn the others of my approach. Ripples of wind danced across the water and brought the scent of clear cool air with a hint of salty brine from the ocean that is never far away. 

Along the path shriveled blackberries cling to their stems while the next limb holds red berries that are fated to never ripen. There are crimson rose hips and white snowberries lining the paths, food for the birds in the lean months ahead. The skeletons of the enormous Garry Oak trees are beginning to show through the thinning leaves. 

Leaves of all sorts carpet the ground and I noticed today that the vast majority of them lie face down on the ground. I wonder why, for the they rarely fall in a single straight line, but twirl and sway as they go. 

Amid all the tawny browns, golds, and reds that characterize this time of year, a field of pink cyclamen seems out of place. But oh, so pretty. 

An ordinary day. I am thankful for these quiet days of little drama and much beauty. As Anne of Green Gables said, "I believe the nicest and sweetest days are not those on which anything very splendid or wonderful or exciting happens but just those that bring simple little pleasures, following one another softly, like pearls slipping off a string."