Currents of Life

ARRRGH!!!!!

After several days of struggling with and thinking about the concept I was blogging about, I finished a posting.  Only to discover that it hadn't saved because I had too many characters in the labels.  Sigh.

I could say live and learn ...

My garden one day a couple of
weeks ago

... or I could hide under the bed and stay there - which is what I felt like doing.

People might say:  what's the big deal?  You can always rewrite it...

The problem is, my mind doesn't go the same place twice.  Oh sure, I can write a new blog on the same theme.  The idea is still there.  The theme is still there.  The pictures are still there.

Light house - the same day

BUT my mind won't go in precisely the same direction twice.  My mind is like the current in the river - always flowing.

Muskrat - the same walk

My mind is active, fluid.  Thoughts tumbling here and there like water tumbling over the rocks in the river.  Sometimes, a very strong current.  Sometimes more languid.  But ever moving.  Ever changing.

Just like the pictures in this blog.

River rushing - current strong -
water level high

Papa Bear and I took a walk one day.  We live across the street from a river and often walk along it's banks holding hands, pretending we like each other (actually, don't tell anyone, but we're not pretending.  We actually do like each other - a lot.)

It's been a mild winter here in southern Ontario.  Unseasonably warm temperatures tempered with brief tastes of winter.

View of lighthouse - the next
morning

On this particular day, it was overcast and above freezing.  We'd had rain.  Before we headed out for our river walk, Papa Bear and I walked around the yard.  We spotted my spring bulbs starting to peep their heads out of the ground.  My early blooming Helleborous actually had a bud.  The grass was green.  As we walked on, we saw that the river's current was strong, sheets of thin ice swiftly travelling downstream faster than we could walk.  Logs floating in the river.  Papa Bear and I watched mesmerized by the spectacle unfolding before us.  We walked on to where the path takes a dip to go under the bridge.  There Papa Bear spotted a muskrat.  It was a wonderful walk.  I had a great time commemorating it with my ever present companion in life - my camera.

One week after initial picture
40 cm of snow
shovellers out in force

Night came.  A new day dawned.

The next morning, I peaked out my window - and saw a different world.  A frozen world with a thin sheet of snow covering the lawn.  Blanketing the bud, the sprouts, the grass, everything.  The softening earth now frozen with the quick freeze.  Blast frozen.

The whole view changed suddenly.  Overnight.  If I hadn't taken pictures the afternoon before, I would have thought I had been imagining things.

A week later, the view from my window changed yet again.  Forty centimetres of snow came down, creating a thick covering of snow over everything.  Schools cancelled.  Libraries and universities closed.  People out on the 401 in Toronto with their snow shovels.

Life changes.  It never stays the same - from one moment to the next.  Always fluid.  Always changing.

Embrace the flow.

And yes, I rewrote the posting.  On the same theme, but different.  Just like life.

One week later