Sunday, October 21, 2012

As the storm passes and evening arrives

There have been times this past year when nature has grabbed my attention and shaken me - get your camera girl - get out here and capture this it seems to say. That's what happened when I was about to curl up with a book as evening approached.

It had been raining off and on all day. I'd worked hard to put wood into the drive shed and get the gardens started in preparation for winter...cutting back foliage that would get in the way of little things that might come early next spring, tidying up and getting rid of my constant rival for garden space - ribbon grass. I was tired and didn't want to go back outside again, though the dogs thought it might be a great idea.

I glanced out the deck door, can't remember why but do remember the blazing gold against a blue-black sky that had me turning for my camera. This elm was even more brilliant and the willows on my neighbours property along the edge of the hay field - all seemed to be spotlit with coloured gels. But isn't nature just that much more brilliant than anything man can create?

I thought so that evening.
A glance across the valley, and the spirea at the archway catches my attention, and the warm yellowing glow from the sun heightens the crimosns of the Saskatoon Berry bush in my pet memorial garden. The air is soft and the sky bland, no promise of much sunset, or anything of colour in it tonight.

I turn back to the centre of the "back yard."
The cutleaf sumach is equally brilliant enhanced by the setting sun - the leaves drying and curled on the grass make beautiful patterns and somehow, all is right, peaceful and perfect in this world.

There are many days when I hear or watch the news, listen to weather reports, look at roiling black clouds in the sky moving inexorably towards my wee church and I wonder at the darkness of it all. The negative news around the world and close to home. Nothing cheerful, nothing good happening today. Bleak outlook.

Then I am reminded so suddenly as with these images - that the earth doesn't care what the news is, or the weather reports and the only darkness is that of night following day, as is normal. Some days brilliant, others not so. All reminding me to be ever present and enjoy each passing moment - a precious gift is this life.


  1. What great wisdom captured in word and picture. Thank you, Barbara!

  2. We had 4.25 inches of rain here out of the same storm and it knocked many of the remaining leaves to the ground. when the last leaves fall, and there are still a few left, I feel a stillness that seems to indicate that this is a time to rest in this part of the world.

  3. Thank you both so much for stopping by and for your words - always so welcome.

    Bill I agree that it is time to rest - but you don't - you go ice fishing in the worst of storms and I don't - walking the dogs also in the worst of storms... but we both must love it.

    Liw - your very kind to say such a wonderful thing about my blog - I'm thanking YOU.