The Summer Tree

Since I got over my ‘chitis (bronchitis) I’ve been doing battle with one Dreaded Lurgy after another … however, today is Summer Solstice and the World has changed. (and may all my lurgys be behind me)

What a difference a few months makes.

The Winter Tree

… and … today, there’s a soft wind blowing, fat fluffy clouds (not the rainy kind – at last) scud overhead, and the sky is a brilliant blue.

The Summer Tree

The Summer Tree

 

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The Solstice Tree

It starts with a corner of our tiny house, cleared for action …

As with all things I gotta have a strong foundation

As with all things I gotta have a strong foundation

Mrs Widds and I would love to have a living tree, but we have nowhere to plant it after the Season, so we ‘grow’ our very own …

OK, it’s not much but I gotta start somewhere

OK, it’s not much but I gotta start somewhere

Usually we put it up on Christmas Eve and take it down on new years day. This year the Solstice called us …

This is fun

This is fun

Each year on Christmas Day the Widder-kin would gather in our house and food and laughter and games and stories would be shared …

Ooooh, I’m feeling kinda stretch-y

Ooooh, I’m feeling kinda stretch-y

But this year we’re having our first ‘just-the-two-of-us’ Christmas since moving here to Widder Island …

EMEGHERD! Lights! I’m glowing!

EMEGHERD! Lights! I’m glowing!

Well, not quite. Around midday we’ll pack up the presents and goodie baskets (Mrs Widds bakes some mean goodies!) and trundle off to a Widder-kin house and have (more) food and laughter and games and stories there …

This is some serious light-age

This is some serious light-age

This year we have time to just potter … and call in the new year when the night is longest … (so glad to see the tail of the old one!)

I’m all shiny and sparkly for the new year

I’m all shiny and sparkly for the new year

And finish off our celebration with some rather scrumptious chocolates …

Now that you mention it, quite a few have gone missing since this picture was taken

Now that you mention it, quite a few have gone missing since this picture was taken

May the Turn of the Seasons bring you the changes you have wished for.

See you in 2017

Fall Arrives

FallSuddenly, it’s Autumn.

Yesterday some of the folk on our lane had a yard sale. The sun put on its best bib-and-tucker and a glorious time was had by all. Yesterday it was ‘officially’ still Summer. This morning widderlake had disappeared into the mists, (of Avalon perhaps?) and the first geese honked overhead on their way to greener pastures to the south. (Hello Washington)

I looked out my writing window this afternoon and all the trees were shivering in the strong wind that’s blowing all sorts of storm clouds and rain up from the South. (Hello Washington) It reminded me of this song. Winter is coming.

Annie is like an excellent wine, simply superb.

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“Whatever you do, you do out of a passion”Annie Lennox, sinter-songwriter, political activist, philanthropist

Blessed Beltane – Biopsy

Widdershins Mask1st May – Beltane – I had my second biopsy on that golf ball in my thyroid. For those who came in late, in March this year I discovered I had a lump in my thyroid that was cancerous.  I blogged about thecone of surrealness’ of that time and got on with life … until today.

Today was biopsy #2, wherein we hope to find some more definitive ‘anomalous cells’ that will give my throat-cutting guy a better idea of where we go next. It’s a fair bet that my golf ball has to relocate, and sooner rather than later. The rest is up for discussion. I’ll let you know how it all goes.

But here’s an interesting thing. Today I got to see the ultrasound image the biopsy-taking guy used to guide a very long needle into my throat. I’ve seen gazillions of x-rays of my knee in it’s various incarnations, from completely busted up to staples, screws and other hardware, but seeing inside myself in real time (in glorious black-and-white video) was … weird. I gotta be honest, it felt a little squicky, (like a slow-motion punch in the throat) but also absolutely fascinating. I took notes, mentally that is. It’s hard to write in my notebook, flat on my back with a needle in my neck. (It wasn’t really that long, but it felt like it, so therefore it was!)

There’s a story somewhere in this … maybe something about google glass’  that sees in all sorts of different ways, infra-red, untra-violet, see-through, (like non-dangerous ultrasounds or x-rays)  … and what would become of the people who couldn’t afford it … and what would happen to art if people only saw through the google glass? Who would clean the streets if no-one saw the mess? (sounds a bit like that Bruce Willis movie Surrogates’) I’ll work with it.

So, that was my Beltane. A little different, eh?

Blessed Be – Let’s kick the tires and light the fires! … and finish out the night with a bracing cuppa tea!

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P.S. Next post will be Episode 4 of ‘Identical’.

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“When tea becomes ritual, it takes its place at the heart of our ability to see greatness in small things” Muriel Babery,  from her novel, The Elegance of the Hedgehog

Spring Equinox

Spring Equinox

Many thanks for this perfect image go to HecateDemeter’s madcap friend, R.

Blessed Be.

Widder

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“ Oh, Spring! I want to go out and feel you and get inspiration. My old things seem dead. I want fresh contacts, more vital searching” Emily Carr, 1871-1945 Canadian painter.

The Seasons: Autumn

We live on the third floor of an old apartment building on a quiet street lined with decades old chestnut trees. There are two slightly younger birch trees in our front yard that display their most gorgeous plumage right outside out windows. From late Spring to early Autumn we are hidden from the world within a canopy of green.

This time of the year the canopy is turning into the colours poets swoon over, the kind of colours that can be seen from the International Space Station about 387 kilometers above us. (an average between its perigee 376 km, and apogee 398 km, AMSL-Above Mean Sea Level)

It’s raining here in Vancouver today. About a meter from my window is a tiny olive green bird hanging upside down on a branch so thin it’s bent vertically with her weight. She’s no bigger than a half-grown mouse and yet she has this wisdom about her that encompasses the whole tree, all the trees on our block, and perhaps the one next to it as well.

There’s something that happens to the undersides of the tree’s leaves when it rains. It’s too small an event for the naked eye to see, but whatever it is, this little bird and her extended family are of the opinion that it’s a tasty treat.

There they are, dancing among the leaves, small enough to dodge the splats of water from the rain soaked sky that trickle down through the canopy. They flit from tree to tree making their way along the street until I can’t see them anymore, no matter how far out the window I lean to catch that last glimpse of their industry.

Autumn rain is a fickle thing here. The sun will shine out from the west and highlight the undersides of the clouds in liquid fire. There might even be a rainbow, and I might see a part of it beyond the city’s rooftops, if I’m lucky enough.

And . . . enjoy.

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“Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns”George Eliot