Tiny noises...

Past rusty railroad tracks...

 ...up the unused drive...

 ...where once you could hear voices and farm plows, 

it's only the sounds of us and the pups and the birds.

 We meander where busy lives once existed...

 Sapsuckers are the busy ones now...

 The colours, the textures of the past greet us at the gate...

 Someone long ago took time to plant these wee autumn crocus' and 

for many years watched them come up every September...

 These are scenes from a life abandoned...

 Tiny noises play in our heads...

 ...the low of cattle, the cluck of chickens

 For a hundred years this was a place...

 ...linked strongly to a life of farming

 Now weathered and disappearing...

 What happens when lives fade away?

 It was a home...

 And as always we look closer...

 try to hear those distant voices...

 Wishing the grasses would rustle up the story through the breeze...

 But the sounds grow fainter...

 The past keeps her stories to herself for now

 But this life abandoned has had some visitors today, who think about it, 

wonder and maybe keep the tiny noises turned up again, just a notch or two.

Her reign is the summer fields...

I once knew a horse with a feathery mane of this colour...

Her body was a shade darker.

A Palomino.

The colour of dry summer wheat and grasses.

Her name was Sundance.  

One Sunday morning while I was giving out carrots at the riding stable,

I came to her stall.

She had her head sticking out over a piece of binding twine that went across the stall.

I gave her a carrot and as I walked away she tried to grab another one

and bit down hard on my upper arm and pulled me towards her with her big, strong head,

ripping my upper arm open.

I ended up with 15 stitches and a permanent scar...and a new born fear of horses.

I eventually, literally got back up on the horse (not her) and rode for many more years after that.

But I digress...I always think of that horse when I see those colours.

Summer fields bring me to daydream and remember.

These days, they are not only crisp with the Palomino grasses but also with filled with the Queen...

Queen Anne's Lace Daucus carota. 

A kin to the modern day carrot but high above it in her royal dress...

A banner year for her majesty this year...

As far as the eye can see, she billows and calls to the bees...

In grand company is the purple Canada Thistle Cirsium arvense.

An introduced species from Eurasia but happily living amongst royalty...
A fat and dewy bumble just waking up this morning...

 

A world above me, a flutter of starlings! 

My mom used to call this a Bird Wedding!

Seed heads landing delicately...

Some heads are closed for the season and show the soft cloak of spider silk...

Beautiful in her dying as well as her blooming...

Providing the fields with seeds for next summer's show...

love bugs!

Love bud!

I have been lax in blogging as of late, but now that the weather is changing and autumn is

at the gate, I hope to spend more time observing and telling tales of said visions and thoughts.

Hope you are all well and healthy and have had a joyful summertime!

What's up?...

It's been a while since writing, in the meantime, 

SPRING has arrived here!

The woods, all dark and mossy have been lit up with the first sweet little wildflowers...

Fawn lilies or if you want to get all Latin about it, Erythronium oregonum.

 No matter what you call them, they will call to you along the paths with their

little nodding heads, like fairy hats on parade...

 Holding onto drops of rain until the most delicate of movement shakes them off...

 My walks are twice as long now while I stop and stoop on bended knees
(sometimes stiff and achy bended knees!)

to try and capture this fleeting show...

 The mushrooms are staring to make a show as well.

I spotted these tiny little ones, the biggest about the size of a nickel, 

reminding me of minute Japanese paper parasol's 

 Jed is growing into a sweet little pup and I love that he's beginning to

know the trails and paths we walk every morning...

 ...running ahead, knowing which fork to take, full of joy, as only a young pup can!

 I must apologize for photo quality as I seem to just bring along my iPhone

thinking I won't really take any photos...I should know better!!

A few things completed on the studio table in prep 

for a gallery show coming up in May.

This is Stuart.

I named him after our beloved CBC storyteller extraordinaire who passed away

early this year. He will be missed by many, many listeners who have been

following 'The Vinyl Cafe' and before that his stints on 'Morningside' for many years.

He once did a story on birdwatching and called the ones he couldn't identify 'LBJ's'

or 'Little Brown Jobs'.

So thanks for all the stories Stuart.

This little Stuart bird will always be singing your praise as one of 

the best storytellers of our time.

xo

This other piece was so much fun to make...

 It's called 'Spike on Wellesley Street', a nod to my dads childhood home...

...and yes Spike is anatomically correct!

I used a thin piece of gold wire for his pee.

Funny enough, while I was sleeping, someone left tiny hand prints in the sidewalk!

It may be the part of a series as I'm now making two more versions of Spike.

So that's about all from this big rock in the North Western Pacific Ocean.

Hope you are all well and enjoying spring wherever you are!

Thanks for stopping by!