Our past is history.
Our present is a gift.
Oh, what luck!
Our future is an empty slate.
It's all within a moment.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Time's Gift
Our Dad.
A kind and gentle soul.
He was a father
and so much more.
A patient man
who always saw the best in everyone
and everything.
He was a steady guide through stormy seas;
both pilot
and steering star.
Dad was the one who would keep his head
when those about were losing theirs.
When we were little
he would dance with us balanced on his toes.
He would blow perfect smoke rings
as he pulled on his pipe,
and sit in comfortable, reflective silence.
Dad was an eager teacher
and a humble poet
with the inner strength of a tall pine.
He could explain the world in simple terms;
from the tiny veins in a fallen leaf,
to the inner workings of an outboard motor.
He was a quiet man who
when he spoke
we paused to listen
and we heard.
He was the loving substance that bound us.
And that beautiful Love endures.
A kind and gentle soul.
He was a father
and so much more.
A patient man
who always saw the best in everyone
and everything.
He was a steady guide through stormy seas;
both pilot
and steering star.
Dad was the one who would keep his head
when those about were losing theirs.
When we were little
he would dance with us balanced on his toes.
He would blow perfect smoke rings
as he pulled on his pipe,
and sit in comfortable, reflective silence.
Dad was an eager teacher
and a humble poet
with the inner strength of a tall pine.
He could explain the world in simple terms;
from the tiny veins in a fallen leaf,
to the inner workings of an outboard motor.
He was a quiet man who
when he spoke
we paused to listen
and we heard.
He was the loving substance that bound us.
And that beautiful Love endures.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Morning's Breath
Stealthy
as white night
with fingers twined about slender trunks,
lingering over frosted blades.
Caressing.
Poised.
Its embrace
ethereal.
Cloaking rock, stone and earth
as it hangs,
cleaving in vain
before the advancing bright.
as white night
with fingers twined about slender trunks,
lingering over frosted blades.
Caressing.
Poised.
Its embrace
ethereal.
Cloaking rock, stone and earth
as it hangs,
cleaving in vain
before the advancing bright.
Sunday, October 09, 2011
Perspective
How small we seem
When from the outside seen.
How large we be
When from within we see.
Just a pinprick in time
When we gauge the line.
But expansive we are
When we look afar.
In this we may confide
For it is ours to decide.
When from the outside seen.
How large we be
When from within we see.
Just a pinprick in time
When we gauge the line.
But expansive we are
When we look afar.
In this we may confide
For it is ours to decide.
Friday, August 12, 2011
Reflecting
I had a dream
That when I looked into a mirror
Past my shoulder
The impossible was possible
That when I looked into a mirror
Past my shoulder
The impossible was possible
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
raptors
the osprey
the eagle
wingbeat for wingbeat
a flawless choreography
swoop for swoop
wheel and dive
the fish
tumbles
free
from the grasp of the osprey
the eagle
like a rock
plummets
to rise again
triumphant
clutching its plunder
the eagle
wingbeat for wingbeat
a flawless choreography
swoop for swoop
wheel and dive
the fish
tumbles
free
from the grasp of the osprey
the eagle
like a rock
plummets
to rise again
triumphant
clutching its plunder
Secrets of the Garden
Being in touch with the earth.
The literal sense will also take us to where we need to be figuratively. My fingernails currently bear signs of the moist, black soil in which they were immersed - and where they will return. I cannot imagine living high above the ground, within blocks of stacked, drywalled capsules, where I cannot stretch my toes and touch the grass from my stoop. However, the large attached deck that soars above the ground, is my refuge during the warm summer months and upon it I tend my garden, a riot of cascading colour, that thrives in clay pots and planters. From this vantage, I may cast my eye over the valley and accept the peace it offers up. The purpose of this garden, jutting out from the hillside as it is, is as practical as it is aesthetic, for the local ungulate population has a voracious appetite - petunias, begonias and pansies; apparent delicacies. The lawn, on the other hand, slopes from the gravelled road in front, in undulating rolls and rocky steps, back and downward to merge into pine and poplar forest, eventually sliding beneath the water's silky edge. The fire pit, noted as the social gathering area, has been relegated to a relatively flat portion of tended grass at the north end of the house - a cool, breezy spot, shaded by a large willow and protected by lilac bushes and towering fir trees. It affords a different perspective across the lake. The irises that flourish beneath the shadow of the trees at the edge of the property are left in peace by the deer - I like to think it is the result of an innate reverence for their beauty.
My garden. A labour of love, wherefore the rewards I reap are tenfold.
The literal sense will also take us to where we need to be figuratively. My fingernails currently bear signs of the moist, black soil in which they were immersed - and where they will return. I cannot imagine living high above the ground, within blocks of stacked, drywalled capsules, where I cannot stretch my toes and touch the grass from my stoop. However, the large attached deck that soars above the ground, is my refuge during the warm summer months and upon it I tend my garden, a riot of cascading colour, that thrives in clay pots and planters. From this vantage, I may cast my eye over the valley and accept the peace it offers up. The purpose of this garden, jutting out from the hillside as it is, is as practical as it is aesthetic, for the local ungulate population has a voracious appetite - petunias, begonias and pansies; apparent delicacies. The lawn, on the other hand, slopes from the gravelled road in front, in undulating rolls and rocky steps, back and downward to merge into pine and poplar forest, eventually sliding beneath the water's silky edge. The fire pit, noted as the social gathering area, has been relegated to a relatively flat portion of tended grass at the north end of the house - a cool, breezy spot, shaded by a large willow and protected by lilac bushes and towering fir trees. It affords a different perspective across the lake. The irises that flourish beneath the shadow of the trees at the edge of the property are left in peace by the deer - I like to think it is the result of an innate reverence for their beauty.
My garden. A labour of love, wherefore the rewards I reap are tenfold.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Thursday, December 09, 2010
Big Things and Little Things
As I head into the busiest time of my year, I find that writing and playing on the computer is so low on my list of priorites that I cannot see it through the haze.
I have been very busy at work. Inventory is an important item during the shoulder season, and I have found myself running from room to room, counting and replenishing. It is a rather fun, but time-consuming activity. With all that, and keeping up with the paperwork, I am virtually breathless.
On top of all that, I have attended the resort orientation for the most part of the week. The snow school is now under the umbrella of Panorama Resort, so it is compulsory that all employees attend the official orientation sessions. In past years it has been a simple e-mail to Don or Heather - and I'm in. Not so this season.
It is quite exciting to be involved with a fledgling snow school! We all have a say in how the manual for future years will read and new ideas on how we think the entire operation might run smoothly. There were forty eager, newbie and veteran/young and old, instructors in one big room. It was fun tossing ideas about and voting-in those which we think will stand up and voting-out those we think might flounder. We got to know each other and are now a united front - slightly different from the relaxed ski school of years past.
This is no slur to Don and Heather whatsoever, who ran one of the best ski schools in North America! They were ready for retirement and the ski school had become slightly faded and jaded, as will anything after many years. There is now a renewed energy that we all feel.
Yesterday morning (in the falling snow) we experienced our first on-snow session of the season and, with it, the opportunity to take the new-to-the-mountain instructors on a tour. It was not only to familiarise them with the hill, but to show them the best teaching terrain - a very important aspect of instructing on the slopes.
As the session came to a close, I simply skied off to my office...
I have today off from work, but not resting by any stretch of the imagination. Getting caught up is more like it - but there is more!
We have a two-bedroom condo reserved for three nights - one of the perks of my job. Once I leave this keyboard, I will be spending the remainder of the day cleaning, doing laundry, organising food, supplies and clothing, then packing the food, clothing and outerwear, as well as skis, boots, poles, helmets, etc. The pets need to be looked after, as well. I've left them in the care of Hillory, who lives in the downstairs suite of the house. She is a kindred spirit when it comes to animals!
Bobby and Jenny have their bags packed and ski clothing and equipment ready and waiting. Both of them are pumped for opening weekend. Bobby is bringing a buddy, but unfortunately, Jenny's friend was not able to come along. Beth will be meeting us there later this evening after work, so the girls can ski and hang out together.
If anyone is wondering, we have declared opening Friday at the ski hill an official Statutory Holiday...
On that note, I will abandon my computer and begin my long weekend - and wish you all a good weekend, too!
I have been very busy at work. Inventory is an important item during the shoulder season, and I have found myself running from room to room, counting and replenishing. It is a rather fun, but time-consuming activity. With all that, and keeping up with the paperwork, I am virtually breathless.
On top of all that, I have attended the resort orientation for the most part of the week. The snow school is now under the umbrella of Panorama Resort, so it is compulsory that all employees attend the official orientation sessions. In past years it has been a simple e-mail to Don or Heather - and I'm in. Not so this season.
It is quite exciting to be involved with a fledgling snow school! We all have a say in how the manual for future years will read and new ideas on how we think the entire operation might run smoothly. There were forty eager, newbie and veteran/young and old, instructors in one big room. It was fun tossing ideas about and voting-in those which we think will stand up and voting-out those we think might flounder. We got to know each other and are now a united front - slightly different from the relaxed ski school of years past.
This is no slur to Don and Heather whatsoever, who ran one of the best ski schools in North America! They were ready for retirement and the ski school had become slightly faded and jaded, as will anything after many years. There is now a renewed energy that we all feel.
Yesterday morning (in the falling snow) we experienced our first on-snow session of the season and, with it, the opportunity to take the new-to-the-mountain instructors on a tour. It was not only to familiarise them with the hill, but to show them the best teaching terrain - a very important aspect of instructing on the slopes.
As the session came to a close, I simply skied off to my office...
I have today off from work, but not resting by any stretch of the imagination. Getting caught up is more like it - but there is more!
We have a two-bedroom condo reserved for three nights - one of the perks of my job. Once I leave this keyboard, I will be spending the remainder of the day cleaning, doing laundry, organising food, supplies and clothing, then packing the food, clothing and outerwear, as well as skis, boots, poles, helmets, etc. The pets need to be looked after, as well. I've left them in the care of Hillory, who lives in the downstairs suite of the house. She is a kindred spirit when it comes to animals!
Bobby and Jenny have their bags packed and ski clothing and equipment ready and waiting. Both of them are pumped for opening weekend. Bobby is bringing a buddy, but unfortunately, Jenny's friend was not able to come along. Beth will be meeting us there later this evening after work, so the girls can ski and hang out together.
If anyone is wondering, we have declared opening Friday at the ski hill an official Statutory Holiday...
On that note, I will abandon my computer and begin my long weekend - and wish you all a good weekend, too!
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
In His Own Time
.
I see you leaping the Rainbow Bridge - head and tail held high as you gallop with the wind.
I will miss you, my old Friend.
.
I see you leaping the Rainbow Bridge - head and tail held high as you gallop with the wind.
I will miss you, my old Friend.
.
Monday, November 15, 2010
The Eleventh Hour
We went to visit my horse on Saturday.
I had previously informed the owners of the farm that we were going to see him for one last time and, after that, the rest was in their hands.
I admit, I hadn't visited Red for some time, but he really did look quite well. He had a twinkle in his eye, his winter coat is growing in thick and full, and he had no trouble enjoying the treats we bestowed upon him - the kids and I had assembled a cornucopia of apples, carrots and guinea pig food... After he'd been fed, coddled, crooned-over and scratched in all the right places, we bid our farewells and watched him trot down the hill to the watering hole. His stride was sure, albeit slightly uneven, but it was sure, nonetheless.
During his last supper, as the kids were wont to call it, and during the photo session, I kept looking for something wrong with Red. He does have a new small lump on his neck, but he's got lumps everywhere - nothing out of the ordinary for a horse - and the ends of the hair on his sides are slightly sun-bleached. He wasn't as able to dig into the apple with his past, youthful gusto, but he was still able to bite it in half with a couple of solid crunches. In retrospect, I should have brought his favourite - a can of Kokanee beer.
When we drove away, I bit back tears as I watched him fade into the distance in my rear view mirror. Could this really be the last time I see him?
I resigned myself to it.
But, something was niggling - not sitting quite right. I just know, that I know... that I know...
Later in the evening, when Gene and I were sitting in the hot tub under the half-moon, I asked him how he thought Red looked. Not being a horseman, but an attentive observer, Gene said that he thought Red looked quite well, given the horse's age. I agreed and it was then that I decided to make one, last phone call. Actually, two.
I had to tell the farm-owner to not go ahead until further notice. I also called my long-time friend, Sam, who's farm had originally been the place where I would take Red to spend his retirement days.
Unfortunately, Sam was recently involved in a car accident and, suffering from the after-effects, had been unable to take on the responsibility. I also know she is very connected with the local horsey community and I thought that one last plea might avail and she could pull something out of her hat. Red might not be so near to death's door if he had a place to stay that could offer some good old fashioned TLC.
As it turns out, after some plan B's, plan C's and plan D's, Sam can keep Red at her place, after all!
Red will continue on to be nursemaid for Sam's two weanling fillies. He will live out his golden years in comfort while resting in the quiet pasture outside Sam's front window. He might not be looking out over the lake, but the vista across the valley is equally as magnificent.
My old soldier will no longer have to compete with the rest of the herd for food, nor battle the cold winter winds that howl and swoop down from the icy peaks. Furthermore, he will have a pair of admiring young maids to keep him company.
As Sam puts it, he will be King of the hill and I'm good with that. Red will be, too!
We didn't ask for more, but we got it.
I had previously informed the owners of the farm that we were going to see him for one last time and, after that, the rest was in their hands.
I admit, I hadn't visited Red for some time, but he really did look quite well. He had a twinkle in his eye, his winter coat is growing in thick and full, and he had no trouble enjoying the treats we bestowed upon him - the kids and I had assembled a cornucopia of apples, carrots and guinea pig food... After he'd been fed, coddled, crooned-over and scratched in all the right places, we bid our farewells and watched him trot down the hill to the watering hole. His stride was sure, albeit slightly uneven, but it was sure, nonetheless.
During his last supper, as the kids were wont to call it, and during the photo session, I kept looking for something wrong with Red. He does have a new small lump on his neck, but he's got lumps everywhere - nothing out of the ordinary for a horse - and the ends of the hair on his sides are slightly sun-bleached. He wasn't as able to dig into the apple with his past, youthful gusto, but he was still able to bite it in half with a couple of solid crunches. In retrospect, I should have brought his favourite - a can of Kokanee beer.
When we drove away, I bit back tears as I watched him fade into the distance in my rear view mirror. Could this really be the last time I see him?
I resigned myself to it.
But, something was niggling - not sitting quite right. I just know, that I know... that I know...
Later in the evening, when Gene and I were sitting in the hot tub under the half-moon, I asked him how he thought Red looked. Not being a horseman, but an attentive observer, Gene said that he thought Red looked quite well, given the horse's age. I agreed and it was then that I decided to make one, last phone call. Actually, two.
I had to tell the farm-owner to not go ahead until further notice. I also called my long-time friend, Sam, who's farm had originally been the place where I would take Red to spend his retirement days.
Unfortunately, Sam was recently involved in a car accident and, suffering from the after-effects, had been unable to take on the responsibility. I also know she is very connected with the local horsey community and I thought that one last plea might avail and she could pull something out of her hat. Red might not be so near to death's door if he had a place to stay that could offer some good old fashioned TLC.
As it turns out, after some plan B's, plan C's and plan D's, Sam can keep Red at her place, after all!
Red will continue on to be nursemaid for Sam's two weanling fillies. He will live out his golden years in comfort while resting in the quiet pasture outside Sam's front window. He might not be looking out over the lake, but the vista across the valley is equally as magnificent.
My old soldier will no longer have to compete with the rest of the herd for food, nor battle the cold winter winds that howl and swoop down from the icy peaks. Furthermore, he will have a pair of admiring young maids to keep him company.
As Sam puts it, he will be King of the hill and I'm good with that. Red will be, too!
We didn't ask for more, but we got it.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
November
The time between,
When our world lies back
And heaves a great sigh,
Preparing to ease beneath
Its icy blanket of snow.
When our world lies back
And heaves a great sigh,
Preparing to ease beneath
Its icy blanket of snow.
Monday, November 08, 2010
Reality.
I find myself now having to make the ultimate decision.
My old horse's health is failing rapidly and, by all measures, it is apparent he will not make it through the winter. I am loathe to play God, as it were and, aside from the fact that Red has long been my faithful companion, this is also matter that I am wrestling with. Who am I to make the decision as to whether another being lives or dies? That is a tough one, and I could debate it forever.
Red has been with me for the past twenty-two years, and my children have never known life without him. If summer were upon us, and Red was failing as he is now, I would allow him lie down and fall peacefully back into the earth in his own time. But our winters are cruel. An old soldier such as he does not deserve to suffer.
Next weekend Beth, Bobby, Jenny, Eugene and I are going to say our last farewell to our beloved Red.
I have not specified a time, nor will I be there - I could not bear it. The owner of the farm will let me know when he is gone.
His final resting place will be in the shade of a pine grove in his sweeping green pasture on the shores of the lake.
I could not ask for any more.
My old horse's health is failing rapidly and, by all measures, it is apparent he will not make it through the winter. I am loathe to play God, as it were and, aside from the fact that Red has long been my faithful companion, this is also matter that I am wrestling with. Who am I to make the decision as to whether another being lives or dies? That is a tough one, and I could debate it forever.
Red has been with me for the past twenty-two years, and my children have never known life without him. If summer were upon us, and Red was failing as he is now, I would allow him lie down and fall peacefully back into the earth in his own time. But our winters are cruel. An old soldier such as he does not deserve to suffer.
Next weekend Beth, Bobby, Jenny, Eugene and I are going to say our last farewell to our beloved Red.
I have not specified a time, nor will I be there - I could not bear it. The owner of the farm will let me know when he is gone.
His final resting place will be in the shade of a pine grove in his sweeping green pasture on the shores of the lake.
I could not ask for any more.
Saturday, November 06, 2010
Dreaming...
Discovering my newly-inherited, antique school bell in the hands of another...
Being late, due to a series of unfortunate events, for my first day of teaching on the mountain...
Skiing on lost skis, while wearing an ill-fitting ski suit, across a dwindling snowpack melting into asphalt...
Injuring my thumb when breaking a speedboat in half as we load it onto a yacht sailing upon a non-existent lake at the resort...
And making a stop, while on board, at the bar for a Guiness during the search for my son who had apparently been playing truant...
Waking up.
Being late, due to a series of unfortunate events, for my first day of teaching on the mountain...
Skiing on lost skis, while wearing an ill-fitting ski suit, across a dwindling snowpack melting into asphalt...
Injuring my thumb when breaking a speedboat in half as we load it onto a yacht sailing upon a non-existent lake at the resort...
And making a stop, while on board, at the bar for a Guiness during the search for my son who had apparently been playing truant...
Waking up.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Birthdays and Beaches
The main purpose of our holiday was to surprise our friend, David, on his 60th birthday, then spend the weekend visiting with him and his family. We hadn't seen David since the banquet in Banff almost a year ago, when he was inducted into the Canadian Ski Instructor's Alliance Hall of Fame. His wife, Jane, had been in touch with us for a couple of months, making plans for our surprise arrival.Above are the remains of the fabulous food dishes brought by all the guests. I packed my own "famous" potato salad all the way in a cooler. The name tags on our backs were not only our way of introducing us to others, but a way of saying how we know David. Apparently, the fellow in the Hawaiian shirt is David's lover...
The two Grandma's. Jane's mom, Catherine, and David's mom, Ruth. Such sweet ladies - they were the life of the party!
Eugene toward the end of the evening, with a glass of deliciously decadent Grand Marnier for dessert.
Walking it off the next morning in the rain forest. From left to right is David's sister, Linda, Larry, David, Eugene and Heather. I don't know where Jane went...And Mocha! I mustn't forget Mocha!
The boom of the sea, such as I have never heard before, and the wash of the waves against the shore were all so foreign to me, the land-locked mountain dweller. As well as the gagging aroma of the kelp lining the rocky beach...
That is Jane, appearing again out of the blue, in blue.
The boom of the sea, such as I have never heard before, and the wash of the waves against the shore were all so foreign to me, the land-locked mountain dweller. As well as the gagging aroma of the kelp lining the rocky beach...That is Jane, appearing again out of the blue, in blue.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Saturday, October 16, 2010
dragon slayers
The Fair - circa 2001.
That's Jenny riding shotgun with her best right hand friend, Courtney.
And, true to form, Bobby has the dragon by the tail.
Monday, October 04, 2010
Going West
The Trans Canada Highway - meeting construction head on in Salmon Arm. This city, located at the southern tip of Shuswap Lake, is considered to be the "houseboat capital of the world". Ahead of us are Gene's brother, Larry, and wife, Heather. On the first day, we convoyed to Whistler over the beautiful and remote Duffy Lake Road, then stayed in a finely appointed suite at the Club Intrawest Hotel for the night. After a delicious Italian meal at the popular Umberto Menghi's Il Caminetto, we were indeed ready to collapse into a soft, downy bed!
Day two saw us waving good-bye to the Mainland after traveling the newly-upgraded Sea to Sky Highway down the rocky coast of Howe Sound. We sailed from Horseshoe Bay and chugged our way across the Straight of Georgia to Nanaimo on Vancouver Island. This is one of the largest and busiest ferry terminals in the province. Operated by BC Ferries as part of the public transit system, the ferry ride cost $75.00 for Gene and I to cross in my mini van.
Larry, Heather and Eugene on deck. The weather - cold and foggy, with misty rain and a spray of salt to top it off. The seas were relatively calm and the crossing was smooth.
This is myself squinting into the wind and, at the same time, leaving a fair-sized wake behind me. The ferry was large, therefore it was deceptively slow. I don't know at what land speed we traveled, but it was not at a snail's pace, to be sure!
Two ships passing in the fog - about fifteen minutes out of Nanaimo. The weather became steadily wetter as we approached The Island. The steward soon annouced that all those traveling via vehicle must go below to prepare for docking and disembarkment.We were then on to the next stage of our travels.
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