Friday, September 18, 2009

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.

  John Keats,  To Autumn

We went for a drive today, Charles and I. Around by Ginty's Pond and up into the mountains, looking for Autumn.

Found a duck in the Pond. Quiet and still, and I wondered what he might be contemplating.

In the surrounding fields a faint hint of fall touched the sumac, and the wind turned the leaves of the poplar this way and that, silver in the sunlight.

Around the corner, at the other end of the Pond, nothing stirred. Occasionally we have seen a water creature swimming to the other shore, but today only the reflection of the trees and grasses rippled ever so slightly.

We took the road that rises from Cawston, cutting through the hills to the Okanagan Valley. The road, as it rises out of the valley, is steep and winding and narrow. When we first moved to the Similkameen we settled on dry sagebrush land, and while we were establishing the farm Charles drove logging truck down this precipitous road.

He pointed out to me a rocky corner where he had had to ditch a load of logs which weren't going to make it to the valley bottom because of road conditions, and I sighed and thought about being young and accepting of these dangerous jobs.

Well, was it any more dangerous than flying a Lancaster over enemy territory?

The road was a terror, but I thought the rocks were quite interesting.

The yellow rabbit brush lined the roadside, and we ran into a half a dozen bluebirds, but unfortunately I was not adept enough to get a decent picture of them. Never mind, here is the rabbit brush....

and the road it follows......

..down into the valley.

He's there alright, Old Autumn, scouting around in the hills, waiting for summer to leave the valley.

I am reminded of a quote from George Washington Cable...

"For summer there, bear in mind, is a loitering gossip, that only begins to talk of leaving when September rises to go."

We have a ways to go yet before the trees turn into torches, here in the valley.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Skywatch Friday
September 18, 2009

Morning clouds and evening shadows in the Similkameen

More interesting skies for your enjoyment here.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

ABC Wednesday

I is for Iris

A Princess in the garden

and a Goddess in Greek Mythology

The personification of the rainbow and a messenger of the gods

Iris was the goddess who linked the gods to humanity, traveling with the speed of the wind from one end of the world to the other.

When she was delivering messages to humans, Iris traveled on the rainbow.


Look at the iris of the eye! It is quite natural that it should be called after the Greek word for 'rainbow'.

And the Iris flower, because it reflects the many colors of her rainbow, also received its name from this goddess .

Take the rainbow express over to ABC Wednesday and enjoy the many posts which "I" inspires, thanks to Mrs. Nesbitt.

Monday, September 14, 2009

Casting Back

I have been blogging now for just over three years, and this is my 453rd posting. Sometimes I give a wondering thought as to what in heaven's name I figured was important enough to write about, 453 times! And then I think, 'does it matter how important it was?' If it was an expression of what I was feeling, or thinking or reading at the time and it moved me to say a few words about it, and I enjoyed doing it then that is reason a-plenty.

Since I discovered the 'Link Within' gadget I have been surprising myself - re-discovering blogs I have written, books I have read, things that have happened and emotions that were once important and now have slid into the past-where-things-are-shadowy-and-tender.

Being ancient I have found that many of the things I write about are memories. I am not so inclined to express my opinions on current events (I leave that to Charles) and I am not so up-to-date on philosophy and science. Many of the writers that affected the way I thought (and think) are now somewhat passe, depending upon their subject.

But some of them are timeless, and for them I am grateful.

And on the other side of the coin, my wanderings in Blogland have been an inspiring experience. I don't have many peers who skim the net, but an evening spent meandering the internet pathways opens doors to me that are fascinating and enfold me in different generational views that are so important as the circle of life grows ever smaller.

I read blogs written by young mothers, by city dwellers and country folk, naturalists and poets, artists and crafters. And I am most especially inspired by gorgeous photography and the amazingly beautiful literary pictures that are painted with words and phrases and whole sentences and paragraphs that carry you in your mind's eye to magical places.

A truly wonderful time to be actively alive, aware and appreciative, despite being Ancient.