Friday, May 25, 2018

Helicopter Bday tour...Campbell River, B.C.

 “Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return.---" Leonardo da Vinci 
 Birthday Present from Friends Denise and her son, Stephen, for Morgan's 28th birthday May 11th. Up up and away yesterday afternoon.....
 49thNorth Helicopter Tours. Campbell River, B.C.
 Morgan waits with Stephen on the tarmac.
 Photo ops with Denise
 “There is no sport equal to that which aviators enjoy while being carried through the air on great white wings.”Wilbur Wright, 1905 
 Sky was perfect. A bit of cloud. A bit of sun. Calm winds.
 With the pilot, Bastien, learning about safety
 Ready to go....
 Can feel the wind whipping up from the blades.
 And we have liftoff.
 “Aeronautics was neither an industry nor a science. It was a miracle.”Igor Sikorsky 
 Looking towards Discovery Passage.
 Down there. Close by. Is our house.
 Green Space.
 Looking towards Campbell River, South.
 Island Hwy.
 Quadra Island (above).
 Turning back towards Vancouver Island
 Along the hwy.
 Teeny Tiny.
 “The higher we soar, the smaller we appear to those who cannot fly.”Anon 
 Green forest as far as the eye can see.
 Heading towards the airport of 49 North
 Coming in for a landing at the edge of Campbell River, North
 “There is no sport equal to that which aviators enjoy while being carried through the air on great white wings.”Wilbur Wright, 1905 

 Photographs 2018

Thursday, May 24, 2018

The Iris--from east to west

 "The flower that smells the sweetest is shy and lowly..."
                                           -William Wordsworth
1988 Petawawa,Ontario
 When we first started toodling across the country, I would put down a garden,of some sort, wherever we were based.Most of them were haphazard. It was fun. In Petawawa, I found out I was allowed to dig in the ground at the MQ's. SO I dug. I went down to the Ottawa River and found wild purple iris growing by the water's edge. Plucked them out of the sand. 
  Stuffed them in the middle of the square of flowers in the backyard. And there they stayed, until we moved a few years later.I had this feeling that I would miss them, unless they were brought along.
 When we moved to Cornwallis, I faithfully dug up the purple Iris (again).......
 Munched in it's ice cream pail of dirt , it drove with us , east, this time, to Cornwallis, Nova Scotia. It wasn't there long before it came time to dig it up again.....once more ripped away from its flower cousins.....
Fredericton, N.B.
 ....and planted  in the patch I managed to dig up in front of the the New Brunswick house.Not sure what I was thinking. But it was fun.
 That year I was digging up ground quite a bit. I loved the Maritimes. I loved the people, I loved the weather. I had a veggie box where tomatoes grew abundantly. Funny thing was, we never used half of them. Gave most away. Watched the slugs eat them.
 Made cucumbers pickles with the neighbours, debated how to make tomatoe relish over tall glasses of lemonade.Discussed the finer points of quilting. Watched the leaves turn....Fredericton is still one of my favourite places.
 When it was time to leave for St. Albert, once more I hauled out the shovel, dug up the Iris, shook off the dirt and plopped it into an ice cream pail. This time it rode west to Alberta. In the moving truck.St. Albert I had  more trouble with gardening. Things died and shrivelled. Messy garden. The rhubarb from Fredericton did the best however.  
St.Albert, Alberta,1998
 The Iris did great. It just grew and grew. I brought along the rhubarb and the Iris to the B.C. Mainland.  I left the  garden to the next tenants.....perhaps they would have more luck with it.
White Rock,B.C. 2005
 In B.C. The purple Iris (high on the right of this pic) seemed to be very happy in the front patch. It flourished there. The rhubarb flourished as well.. The garden patch was small and neat. Pots overflowed.It rained. There was wind. Smell of the sea. 
 "Basically I was a hippie and still am a flower child...." -Donna Karan
 And then, finally, when that Iris and Rhubarb were about 20 some odd years, they made it to the island.  Their last place. The Rhubarb has long  long gone. Vanished into the earth, no longer able to continue after all those years. 
Campbell River,B.C. 2017
 And the Iris? Well. It made it to 2018 spring. It no longer bloomed. Grew as crooked as it ever did.  I had it dug up for the last time, to make way for the new. It had seen snow, lots of it, rain from east to west.When it would bloom I would remember that spring I first came across it on the sandy shores of the Ottawa River. I would remember the loons, and the call of the Canada Geese, and grasses waving in the wind, touching the warm water in the sunlight.....
 "Let us dance in the sun, wearing wild flowers in our hair..."
                        -Susan Poliz Schutz (poet)(1944-)
 Photographs 2018

Sunday, May 20, 2018

Let me do my work each day.....

 “Patience, he thought. So much of this was patience - waiting, and thinking and doing things right. So much of all this, so much of all living was patience and thinking.” 
― Gary PaulsenHatchet
 A PRAYER by Max Ehrmann (1872-1945) excerpts
Let me do my work each day.....
 May I still remember the bright hours that found me walking over the silent hills of my childhood..
 or dreaming on the margin of the quiet river, when a light glowed within me.
 I promised God to  have courage amid the tempests of the changing years.
 Spare me from bitterness and from the sharp passions of unguarded moments.
 May I not forget that poverty and riches are of the spirit.
 Though the world know me not,may my thoughts and actions be such as shall keep me friendly with myself.
 Lift my eyes from the earth, and let me not forget the uses of the stars. Forbid that I should judge others lest I condemn myself.
 Let me not follow the clamour of the world, but walk calmly in my path.
 Give me a few friends who will love me for what I am, and keep ever burning before my vagrant steps the kindly light of hope.
Teach me to be thankful for life.....
 For time's memories that are good and sweet....
 And may the evening's twilight...... 
  find me gentle still....
 Max Ehrmann  1872-1945, an attorney and writer from Terre Haute, Indiana, wrote  mainly on spiritual, thoughtful subjects. Heis also known for his poem "Desiderata" ( "things desired")
 "A Prayer" by Max Ehrmann from " 1000 Beautiful Things Collection 1948"