la vie immédiate

May 1, 2013

Garden

“Our” beloved Public Gardens is open for the season. There were many things to sniff and investigate, running to and fro like dogs.

The extravagance of this tree! The kids got mad at me for standing staring at it for so long.

I like the stark forms of early spring. Things are not yet lush. Buds are very precise and concrete. There are very definite forms to look at.

Of course, the Main Task of the Afternoon was to stand by the edge of the pond, throwing sticks in the water and watching the ripples. Almost Falling in Several Times.

That and to concoct a spectacular quarrel over who got to stand on the little step on the back of the stroller on the way back to the car. (This gloriously included a scene where Mama refuses to go one step farther until the issue is resolved. While this went on, a very pregnant mom went by chasing her toddler. I refrained from saying “This will soon be you,” and just smiled encouragingly.)

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April 3, 2012

Up the hill

Needing one of these walks. Starts with ducking under branches and then puffing up the hill to where you turn around, out of breath, to look out over the water.

There’s something about ducking under branches. There’s something about climbing to the top of the hill. It’s like I’m craving that new perspective, and all that open space. Getting away from things in order to see them. Space for new possibilities.

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November 4, 2011

Space

Have been out gallivanting. This is Clam Harbour Beach, where we went to pick cranberries the other day.

I love beach parks when they’re deserted once the weather gets cold. All boarded up and ready for winter. But here we are, and it’s ours. And there’s so much SPACE. I love this space. It’s why I leave the city so often. At least once a week. To get back that perspective of sky and land and water. To shake off feeling cramped and suffocated by cars and too-close buildings and traffic and line-ups. I was pretending this was my beach house, with tons of staggered decks and scattered picnic tables.

You walked along a boardwalk trail and came out into more space like this. With more scattered picnic tables. It’s wonderful to see a summer place out of context like this. All these areas created for people but no people. Maybe that sounds creepy? I mean, I like it in the summer too. And I want people to enjoy it. But it belongs to me more this way. You can pretend you’re discovering it. You can pretend it’s your Grounds.

Perfect coffee and homemade doughnut picnic, thanks to Linda.

Showing deer tracks to your kid feels good. (Easy to forget how simple good parenting can be. ) I like how kids are in nature. Curious, imaginative, observant, and joyful. (When not busy freaking out about walking too far/ wind/ blowing sand…)

I’d been in an off mood for a while, battling it all day. But finally, after walking on the beach and breathing fresh air for hours, my cobwebs blew away.

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October 6, 2011

Out and away

Escaped to Chezzetcook for a couple of days. Needed to get car repairs done, so was pleasantly stranded without a car out there instead of in the city.

Needed my fix of poking at the fire, “putting on another stick”, and sitting in the rocking chairs beside the stove.

What is it about wood stoves? That return to something primal? I was happy all day because of it, despite the pouring rain. I love the process of starting the fire and waiting for the heat, smell, and crackling sounds to come and work their magic. A dismal rainy day stuck inside with two kids alone all day became cosy and exactly what and where I wanted to be.

We baked Afternoon Ruby Tea Biscuits from my old Anne of Green Gables cookbook I had as a kid.

Those too young to bake amused themselves in other ways.

Eventually it stopped pouring and we got to plant some bulbs. Planting in the fall for flowers that won’t arrive until the spring is an act of faith.

I thought about how long the bulbs would wait, buried there in the dark earth, before their time would come. About their patience and the magic of things taking root, even if we don’t see them for a long time.

And I went out for a solitary, windy walk, up the hill behind the house and along the trail leading into the forest. Spending time in nature alone is one of my favourite things. I take in all the colours, I stop to smell leaves and plants, I look at the sky and out over the water, and maybe get just a little bit more clarity.

It’s reassuring, pushing branches out of the way and going forward for no reason, surrounded by no phones, no computers, no voices, and no lists.

Reassuring: Say or do something to remove the doubts and fears of someone.

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