Fall, equinox and harvest

In the nearby town and along highways and back roads everywhere in Ontario (probably across Canada and much of the US as well), fall and the harvest are celebrated. Roadside stands such as this one, are filled with local produce, local baking, jams, jellies, flowers, pickles and more, much more. They are filled with people wishing to share - yes it's their livelihood but what a wonderful way to make a living - sharing the food you produce through your own labour and that of your friends, colleagues and family.

This weekend we experience the autumnal equinox, the balancing of night and day, equal amounts of light as we move towards the long nights, the time of rest to allow for regeneration and renewal of the land for the next year of growing our food. In this northern hemisphere its winter's blankets we expect. In the southern hemisphere it was the vernal equinox and the advance of growth and heat and light. A balance in the world, in nature that sometimes for the human species alone is hard to manage. We haven't as humankind has progressed been able to achieve or maintain balance, it seems to me.

However, there is always hope, always wonder for those who love to look around at nature and try to emulate the natural order of things. It's in the striving I suspect that one gains balance.

And the other morning, once again - just as the sun rose over the hill we call a mountain here in Central Ontario - a special omen. For me at least, this is a sign of hope, of togetherness and of joy. May each of you have a balanced day filled with hope that your dreams will come true.

What will happen to the horses?

This field has ten foals - five of them not yet weaned from their mothers. They are part of the small herd of standard-bred horses that are bred and raised by the fellow who owns and operates this small outfit. He was a vet I've heard, many years ago for one of the largest breeding and standard bred racing outfits in Ontario.

The animals here are sleek, well-cared for and obviously loved.

What will happen to them I wonder when the Ontario government makes the changes to the horse-racing industry in the province by eliminating slot machines from race tracks and thus some of the revenue that goes to breeders, vets, farmers that raise the hay and other crops for horse feed and municipalities who also share in some of the profits from the slots? Not that I approve of slot machines. But the industry has grown in Ontario, it seems to me, largely because of the location of these gambling machines being placed at race tracks. It will take more research for more informed comment from me on this issue...I just know how much I enjoy seeing the young foals on the grass with their mums. Horses are and have been throughout much of humankind's history, companion animals that work with and for us.

But I just love them for whatever reason and always stop if I have time to watch them when I pass by. Yesterday I took my camera with me, not intending to go by this particular farm, but when I did - what fun.

The two youngsters below were curious about me when I got to the fence, but way too hungry to come close to be petted. The one on the left kept it's eyes on me, watching as it ripped out grass, not raising its head much, listening to my conversation with her and her buddy. Nice 20 minutes or so spent enjoying these babies.

So one day I'll do some research and tell you what the results are of the Ontario Lottery and Gaming Commission's decision - it was a pretty abrupt one, based theoretically the politicians claim, on getting Ontario's debt under control.... hmmm. I believe in debt control, elimination even. But...well as I said another day another story.

Meantime don't you like the photos of these youngsters? Wonder if there's a winner among them? Or a horse that someday a child would ride and feel like he or she was riding on the wind?

This old house

The hole in the ground -basement or root cellar - and an old fridge or cupboard just seen through the lilac bushes that have grown around the edges of the foundation, is all that's left of this old house.

Built way back from the road - it must have been constructed by Scots who moved to this country back in the 1800s. You can see farms formerly owned by them with the houses and barns constructed in the centre of the property. This meant they didn't have to cross so much land to reach the edges - more efficient.

These pieces of split rail cover a dug well, close to the old foundation.

But notice the bluey-purple in the background?

There are patches of it all around the homestead.

I've spent the past hour looking through my wildflower field guides to try to figure out these flowers. They are either blue-eyed grass or bluets gone wild... or maybe even hyacinth gone wild. Maybe one of you may know? I'd love to be certain.

Nevertheless, they make a carpet of blue and are simply glorious, particularly in the sun.

They seem to spread everywhere, bursting through the winter-dried grasses and reflecting the sky when the sun is out.

And then there are the daffodils. Clumps of them ready to pop open and say "Hello world here we are."

When I first came upon this spot, walking the dogs of course, I couldn't believe it. Someone had taken the time many years ago, to plant a beautiful garden.

The property was sold I guess. Certainly the house was abandoned - I see way too many houses and barns abandoned reminding me that small family farming is a difficult way to eke out a living.

But nature has preserved the memory of the family that lived here in the remnants of a garden. It's gone wild and spread beyond its borders, but still enchants to this day. The day lilies too remain, and though just inches out of the ground now, in a month or two will offer their gorgeous orange cups to the sun.

Poignant. Missing what has been lost.

That's how I often feel when I see an abandoned house, barn or secret garden such as this. I wonder what it was like to live in this rugged country when there was a home built here, with a fire in an old iron cook stove sending smoke up the brick chimney and warming the small house.

The various histories in the world, big and small, but often the most intimate and smallest - such as the story of the family who lived on this property once upon a time - intrigue me and let me drift to a simpler time.

May your day be filled with gardens, dreams and wonderful memories.