Making It Up As I Go Along #676

Heard of the strongest winds back home that I’ve known.  They say it’s the strongest in forty years… and I’m sure forty years ago, I wouldn’t have paid much notice.  But 157 km/h in St. John’s is nuts.

The strongest I remember from there was 146 km/h.  I remember they called that night a winter hurricane and I went out for a few minutes and stood in the street.  The roads were snow covered and deserted.  It felt more like a trail in a mountain pass with the great peeks of row houses on either side of me.  I could lay upon that wind.  Leaning full into it without falling to the ground.  And I remember it no longer howled at that point.  It was screaming over my head.

Even though March means winter is winding down, these last few days in Ottawa have been among the coldest of the season.  I haven’t gone out during these four days off (except to get groceries).  I just see the windchill numbers and figure I’m done with this.

My hope is my winter is about five days longer.  Due to fly to Florida on Friday and come back two weeks later.  We may not be in shorts and t shirt weather by the beginning of April but surely goodness it won’t be -23 anymore.

A Brand New Wood
The woods lay inviting across the street
Making my window as a picture
Inviting me to the coldness
In order to walk the familiar paths
Bending around trunks
Bordered by fallen giants
Mossy and ‘shroomed
Inviting a friendly pat
A familiar hello upon the trail.

I’ve considered doing the walk in the unfamiliar
To venture out under the light of the moon
Follow the darkened path by memory and shadows
To explore the differences
To feel the still of it
To catch the moon’s glow through the branches
To reach clearings big enough to spot the stars
To experience the place I know so well
In a brand new way.

Still I’ve never done it.
The experience is locked treasure
Only imagined rather than remembered
Each night bringing new excuses against.
The wear of the long day
The cold of a winter’s night
The thought of nighttime encounters
With hoards of frogs squashed underfoot
With new spun webs hanging invisible in my path
The unknown aggression of night
Where fox and coyote become more brave
And perhaps an owl will attack
Under cover of darkness.

But still I must
The night will come
When exploration calls
And I’ll wander within a brand new wood.

Making It Up As I Go Along #675

It’s sunny out today… looks terrific outside… but I see -17 on my thermometer and I feel the need to take not one step outside this house.  Went walking yesterday with a windchill around -20 and felt like I was very done with winter weather.  Two weeks away from Florida (barring a snowstorm cancelling my flight).  That’s what’s keeping me going now.  Yesterday I watched a ballgame on TV.  Seeing the Jays in Dunedin, with the green grass, fans in t shirts and shorts, palm trees… and all I could do was daydream about being in that very place three weeks from now.

People’s general desire for normalcy and good will cause Trump to do what he wants for at least four years of an American presidency.  This week he gave a speech, written by someone other than him, via a Telepromter… and all people could do was talk about how this was a pivot moment.  How it was him becoming presidential.  News agencies that have been barred from White House press conferences are even saying this.

The reality of any president or prime minister is that these speeches are largely window dressing.  It’s the bills, laws and policies that are brought about, under their leadership, that should count.  And the man who suddenly became “more presidential” is also considering separating mothers from children at the Mexican border… in hopes of more easily turning back Mexican immigrants.  They’re basically considering blackmailing parents with their own children in hopes of keeping them out of “the land of the free”.  And today, Mr. “More Presidential” also accused Obama of tapping his phones… and made that accusation via twitter.  So please, let’s not be so stupid as to normalize this man by way of a telepromter.

The First Sign
Last week brought the first sign
The sign of the world’s thawing
Weeks of warming brought breakthrough
The creek began to flow

Hard white and icy blues
Gave way to trickling sparkles
And reminders of life to follow
Soon frogs, will return along with flies of butter… and dragon
Little birds will fly low among the reeds
And bees will bumble from blossom to blossom

I could see all this
See Spring trickle in among the ripples
Watch summer’s approach
As a squirrel sprints across the snow dune plains
Those dunes will soon give way to meadows
Lining the banks of this creek’s valley
Barron white desert
Months from becoming the oasis I long to see.