Sun Appears to Set
After a sunny morning that turned overcast, rainy and full of thunder through the afternoon, it was a pleasant, not forecasted, delight that the sun appeared as an orange smudge, then fireball, and reflected a trace across the lake, just in time to set, leaving a quiet hush after a windy day.
Free Air, Free Sun, Free Tornado Warnings
After the winds blew tremendous and the lights were mostly off but then suddenly, momentarily full back on as if daylight again …
The fishing boat is still secure
Mostly life goes on, though a few trees met their end and some hopes were dashed,
But life mostly goes on
Limited as it is by families split, and wars started, villages burned out and camping spots still riddled with bullets and glass.
Who heard of leaving or putting a 22. Bullet in a campfire ring!
And the young women is on her way to the hospital.
New Kinosoo Beach
Wonders come in good surprises.
Like the improvements to parks and recreational areas.
Like wonderful sunsets at the Marina
The line of sunset visitors is slim, but always comfortable in their own skin.
Riding back the greatest colour took even me back a bit.
I almost passed them up, not to disturb their fun, but with the light so marvelous, and they having so much fun as a group of teens at the beach, I made the request and demonstrated what could be done with the sunrise and even just a cell phone camera.
Teaching photography I repeated often what I heard from a host of other photography instructors: always have a camera on you, and always see the photos that are possible even if you do not stop.
This paid off, and this group of young adults was 1) obviously having a simply good time at the beach, and 2) they were clear enough with themselves to know if they were willing to pose as the silhouettes against the sunset.
The guys were ready and willing, and one of the girls stepped in to make a good demonstration:
When they saw how fabulouse the photo could be, and heard that I was asking them to do something to show how much fun they were having at the new beach.
There were a few that we shot, but they made something like this and I kept shooting as fast as the little cell could, and it evolved into this.
All agreed this is the best of the lot.
I didn’t recognize any of the young adults, so I could not give you names or give them anything but anonymous credit.
But anonymous credit is greatly due: look at what this groups of young people thought of with little to no notice!
This is the past, the present, the improvements, the joy of life, and these young people are the future of Canada. We should do all right, in their creative hands, finding solutions and possibilities in the complicated world.
Rehabilitating Hilda Lake Random Camping Area
This is the ‘bush party place’ left with broken glass, burned out campers and all sorts of results of obviously irresponsible behaviours and disrespect for the land. There just is no excuse for this.
A huge clean up and accounting project was undertaken, and it is a pleasant place now, still needing lots of ‘small piece’ cleanup.
This was someone’s idea of a good use of the resources here: hack at at live tall mature pine tree and leave it to suffer.
Our fire area had a second fire spot, no rock rim or metal container, right on top of live roots, or maybe formally live roots.
We started to pick up pieces to finish burning them in the proper fire ring and noticed lots and lots of nails.
So out came a garbage bag and the shovel.
Then, with all the nails we could find and the junk they were attached to in the bag, we brought over some sand from the roadway, and then spread some forest floor decaying matter on the spot.
And then we turned to clean up and remake the rock rimed fire ring. And there were more nails and broken rocks … and a second heavier garbage bag filled with the mess.
Done we had two heavy garbage bags of mess, and a lot neater fire ring.
The brown bag was the start and finish effort. We’ve kept picking up broken glass shards and debris and detritus from around this and the other campsites. Into the brown paper bag. And it along with the fire pit mess of nails, metal, glass and pieces of half burned wood goes out with us into an appropriate garbage receptacle.
It can be clean if everyone who enjoys a few days here does the same, cleaning up, collecting garbage and hauling out more garbage than they themselves make.
My challenge is that each of you, who can use Canadian Parks this year, document your stories with photos or video of you clean up contributions.
Tell the story, be the story, make us all proud.
Trees, Trees, Light, Water, Hope
That’s the spot, where the borrowed trailer sits for the nights, when for a few brief hours the sun sets and the coyotes howl and the rains … well they did not do anything, but the bugs invaded like the empire’s drones.
As if the forest of trees and under-bush had come alive to welcome one to the healing refuge of nature or to warn one of what the (2 legged) wildlife had planned for one.
Drawn to the light like moths to a candle the breathing of the light overpowers ones vision and capacity to see clearly what is in store … What will the process ahead entail?
Will Grace and Forgiveness win out, or will judgment and condemnation ruin the days and lives of so many?
It is much more difficult to see the simplicity of love which unconditionally takes in everything about the other, every nook and cranny of Scheißheit and still turns, to give so that it is as if the Schieße Idiotische Irrtümliche Freaking Blödheit simply was not. Not to demand anything, but to make, out of one’s own sacrifice, the reality that the other is acknowledged to have done exactly what is done, and yet the other is treated as if … as if it were not so. It is much more difficult to see the simplicity of love so far beyond the complexity of horrendous things done redeemed by one’s own sacrifice … this is so much more difficult than it is to take in the lies as excuses to create more lies of false condemnations. Girard saw it clearly; we like teenagers gather for mass attacks and derogation of a poor victim who has done nothing other than be, we even adults swarm upon the one selected as our collective victim and against all logic viciously ruin that one. And released of our mass hysteria hidden so well in our civility, we feel we’ve done right to end the stress and we return to peace. A peace more dangerous than outright war, for the real villain lies within us hidden and nearly undiscoverable, ready to direct us against yet another unaware victim.
It used to be women. Now we’ve become politically correct and we do it to men. Especially men who are honest about what they’ve suffered.
The light, on the far side of complexity is revealing that lives are at stake.
Forgetting is not forgiving. Forgetting is to have plaque on the brain, or plaque on the heart, so that one lives in a fantasyland, as if things were somehow different than they are. Truth is each of us beyond hope, lost from any blessed acceptance by anyone who ultimately matters.
But if we do not forget, if we remember, if we remember not with the poignancy of the pain of the Scheißheit that has been done to us, but remember knowing that it does no longer determine one’s life, nor need to determine the other’s life, so we remember without feeling the pain still, but knowing then and now we choose to move into the next moment of the present moving into the past, to move with grace and acceptance, not of the Scheißheit, but of the lovely person who did it to us.
That is not simple, it is not the complexity of reality good and evil, it is past all layers and webs of complexity of black holes and supernovas that destroy life, back into the blessed breath and wind that brings new life even to the ravages thought to be impossibly lost, dead and gone.
This Simplicity is the light of truth; harsh in what it reveals and delicately soft in how it reflects each of us to the other, as a slow waltz encapsulates the love of years, new this moment again.
And then the water, the water that gave and gives life beginning and sustenance. Water that surrounds the rocks that could and would destroy everything, including life itself, allowing the water to swallow what it gave birth to. Water that is the cooling best of a hot hot day, and here the relief of bugs biting literally sucking the essence of life out of us.
The water gives and sustains life …
But the light made visible in the clouds spanning the sky draw wonder from our burden laden hearts, until
Until we see the light
And seeing the light we see the clouds
And seeing the clouds we know the storm to come
And knowing the storm to come we breathe easy in our preparations and survival of the last storm of chaos.
Breathing easier for the last survived and the next prepared for we hope …
Hope is the spark of life without which we die, shrivelled up in apathy and disregard for the life of others.
Hope is the spark of love that saves us from the animal survival instincts that turn others into prey and ourselves into combatants that must win at all costs to whomever.
Hope, we see hope in the world, and we can breathe.
Forgiveness even through the possible future of forgetfulness of age,
To making the other’s strengths shine and their weakness compensated for, so that life is GOOD!
It is the beloved who honours life, not out of irrational fear, but out of hope in self and the beloved. Standing shoulder to shoulder, taking on the challenges of life even when they seem insurmountable, and hoping against hope that all will be well, all will be well, all manner of things shall be well.
Moon Crescent cannot illuminate nor focus one’s soul, but it can let you know there are obstacles everywhere,
The obstacles are not always threatening, but frame a view of beauty.
You have not really lived until out your door, having slept in the warmth of a bed covered with a luxurious duvet, you can watch the sun rise over the ice.
Nothing of a Fool’s Day took hold this day.
The expanse of light reflecting ice tracks under the wedge of broken clouds held one in awe, that this light was available all around.
And then this is truly all around.
Walking on Water
Year in and out after the lakes freeze solid enough we all can walk on water, or ice.
But the spring days when a melt is on and the ice is still VERY thick, though covered with water, the ability to walk on real water, with ice beneath it by a few inches is simply that much more delightful.