Sunday, June 30, 2013

"Something is calling to me
from the corners of fields,
where the leftover fence wire
suns its loose coils, and stones
thrown out of the furrow
sleep in warm litters;
where the gray faces
of old No Hunting signs
mutter into the wind,"
                            from In the Corners of Fields
                                            Ted Kooser

The last of the photos from our trip to the
Cabin in May a bit late but we switched 
computers which took a while to figure out.
We are starting the trip home. A few inhabitants
of the Prairie pot holes

And then the Prairie a canvas of sky, cloud and horizon.

"Would I miss the way a breeze dimples
the butter-colored curtains on Sunday mornings,
or nights gnashed by cicadas and thunderstorms?
The leaning gossip, the half-alive ripple
of sunflowers, sagging eternities of corn
and sorghum, September preaching yellow, yellow
in all directions,"

 from  Prairie Sure
                                 Carol Light    

Saturday, June 22, 2013

Calgary Flood June 2013

A you may have seen on the news Calgary has experienced 
a severe flood in the last few days. While we have had
a wet June and a record rainfall in the city Thursday and 
Friday the main problem was even heavier rains in the 
mountains  feeding the Bow and Elbow rivers as they flow 
towards Calgary. This has caused great great damage and 
some deaths in the small communities along the rivers. In 
Calgary some 60,000 - 100,000 people have been evacuated 
from the neighborhoods along the river and downtown will 
probably be closed for several days to dry out the powers 
transformers. Helen and I are fine our home is in a higher area
 and we did not even lose power. While I do have photos of the
 flood I think I will instead offer some photos taken in our 
yard earlier in the week when the rain was just the rain..

In the rain a young dog eats grass. The old dog well...,

This osprey surveys the flood.

"Here, where the world is quiet;
         Here, where all trouble seems
Dead winds' and spent waves' riot
         In doubtful dreams of dreams;
I watch the green field growing
For reaping folk and sowing,
For harvest-time and mowing,
         A sleepy world of streams."

                            from The Garden of Proserpine

                                                    Algernon Charles Swinburne

Saturday, June 1, 2013

"All the sun long it was running, it was lovely, the hay
Fields high as the house, the tunes from the chimneys, it was air
       And playing, lovely and watery
               And fire green as grass.
       And nightly under the simple stars
As I rode to sleep the owls were bearing the farm away,
All the moon long I heard, blessed among stables, the nightjars
       Flying with the ricks, and the horses
               Flashing into the dark.

And then to awake, and the farm, like a wanderer white
With the dew, come back, the cock on his shoulder: it was all
       Shining, it was Adam and maiden,
               The sky gathered again
       And the sun grew round that very day.
So it must have been after the birth of the simple light
In the first, spinning place, the spellbound horses walking warm
       Out of the whinnying green stable
               On to the fields of praise."

   from Fern Hill
   Dylan Thomas
and possibly my all time favorite poem.
We did stay with Helen's mom at the farm
while we worked on the cabin.

Below is a photo is of Willow Two, the first Willow appears on  
the banner for this website and was a great friend of mine.
We often took long walks together and my very sentimental
poem Paths was written for Willow

Willow Two while physically 
similar is quite different behaviourally for one she will
not go very far with me on a walk, she also is quite a 
hunter and kills even the Garter Snakes that come her way
I did manage to get one away from her while I was there
but it can be a bit disconcerting to find pieces of them.
I suspect both traits may stem from the fact she has some 
Great Pyrenees blood which would make her more territorial
and a home body. She is a lovely dog however and we get 
on well.

I do love the fields and skies of the farm and thought 
I would share some photos.



                        “Of tender joy wilt thou remember me,”
                                                                        Tintern Abbey
                                                                                          William Wordsworth

Time was I did not walk this path alone, but words uncounted
can not tame the world to hold your shape once more.

Gone now, so very gone while I await some future call.
But until then I am here, remembering a questing spirit,

who pads the pathless night, the trackless starfields,
the wild aurora, thru the great winding fields of light.

When called, will you return by way of these tamer fields
so that one day we may take that walk together?