Shapes and Patterns

Most conversations in Canada begin with a polite discussion of the weather so I will say that July in Southern Ontario has felt like high summer in South Carolina. Little rain and water restrictions mean that lawns are brown and gardens are stunted, but the weeds flourish. I have allowed a Queen Anne's Lace to grow in the front yard because I think it is beautiful, and I was curious to see what would happen. Well, it is as tall as the Rose of Sharon shrub that it sprouted beside, and is thick and gloriously blooming. Clearly 'wilder' is better. 

There was a nice breeze this morning so I decided to wander out. I wanted to see if I could find some helleborine and I had only seen it on one path so that is where I headed. This particular quest resulted from an unexpected find on my daughter in law's front lawn. We were armed with saws in order to cut down some saplings which the previous tenant had allowed to grow in unexpected places. When I gave a holler, I think Karen expected that blood might be involved, but, hidden in the clump of brush, I had found several helleborine plants. Being that I have seen these only twice before, and never outside the forest, I was naturally excited. And, on reflection, reminded that beauty is often found in hidden and unexpected places.

Helleborine is a non-native orchid species generally founds in deeper woods. It is also called Bastard Hellebore or Common Helleborine, which seems unkind for such a delicate and intricate plant. I also read that it can be invasive but decided that was wishful thinking.

Unfortunately there were no plants at the spot on the path where I saw them last, and apparently the call for fresh meat had gone out for my location, so it became prudent to leave before the entire mosquito population converged there. I did however, see several Red-Spotted Purple butterflies on the Japanese Honeysuckle enjoying some berries. Being that there are no red spots and the butterfly is basically black, the reason for this name is elusive. It is lovely though, no matter what it is called.

I thought about the myriad of forms that are seen in nature and how, as I walk, I use them to define what I see. Even if you remove colour, as unimaginable as that is, you could identify things just by their shape and pattern. 

The black line on the lower wing tells me this is a Viceroy butterfly and not a Monarch.

This unique shape and set of geometric patterns can only be Blue Vervain...

and these are aptly named Balloon Flower because the 'balloons' burst open into flower.

The beautiful pattern of delicate leaves identifies this as a locust tree. The interruption of the leaves by the three-pronged thorns, makes it a Honey Locust tree. The spines are red which hopefully one sees before being impaled, and were used as needles and nails in a previous time. Nature can be armed ... beware.

Just as shape and patterns help to identify things, changes in expected patterns draw your eye to look closer. Clouds are so often random in shape and quickly change with the wind, so when they form a more regular pattern, you are drawn to look and admire.

The mask of the raccoon gives away his hiding spot in the tree...

This cluster, called a Grape Filbert Gall catches the eye because it doesn't belong there.

Or these brown shapes that do not belong here! They actually decided not to clear off the road, so we drove slowly around them while they hissed.

Nearby there was a big tree with some odd growths on it that drew a second look....

turkey vultures gathered to roost for the night.

There are also seasonal patterns and shapes; things that you expect to see at a particular time of year. At this time of year flower forms give way to seed pods and fruit...

like the unusual pods on the Tick-Trefoil...

or the Barberry whose clusters of yellow flowers are now garlands of yellowish green fruits.

The fields are full of patterns, corn in orderly rows, mounds of soya beans in soft lines, and farmers mowing patterns as they harvest what is ripe. 

I wandered onto this subject because I had noticed that I was standing on the edge of what John Bunyan wrote of as the Slough of Despond in his book Pilgrim's Progress. This allegory was written a very long time ago and the word 'slough' is not often used today with this same meaning. 'Slough' pronounced 'sloo' like 'clue' or 'slau' like 'cow', and means 'a muddy bog'. Christian, the main character in the story, has fallen into this Slough of Despond and is left to wallow about until he receives help to get out. 

Help arrives and pulls Christian out of the slough, and then inquires how Christian got himself into trouble. Christian says that he was afraid and not looking where he was going, ..and how come the government hasn't fixed it or posted signs!! Help (that's his name), says well if you had looked more carefully there are steps to walk on, but your fear has lead you to this place that is filled with "many fears and doubts, and discouraging apprehensions". And Christian leaves, no doubt, quite chastened. 

I was thinking that I am most comfortable when my life follows a certain pattern, includes certain routines. Like coffee with a book, and in the summer, the porch..a forest path walk...time to take pictures..lots of quiet time. But life likes to interrupt patterns with things like unrelenting heat, a sore back, no walks. And you don't realize that your mood is starting to go sideways and you can't take the news in stride and I get fearful and have doubts about myself and the future, and then, Slough of Despond. I always expect that I am going to be a little wiser and see the pattern as it is forming, because it is nothing if not familiar, but it sneaks up on you. I don't think that I fell right in this time, but I would like to stay away from the edge too. 

So, now that I have seen the shadow, I will work a little harder despite the obstacles, to get in a walk, and sit on the porch and remember that Help is nearby.

And hold my grandbaby.

Older ramblings can be read here;

https://cathybeaudoin.blogspot.com/ 

Sudden Storms

The gardens are wilted and audibly gasping for water (yes, I heard them) and I was bracing for another hot day. 34 degrees Celsius was predicted, with humidity making it feel like something unspeakable. To me 34 is hot even for August dog days, and since seasonal norm is only 25 degrees I feel like the weather should be cooperative and predictable. No offense weather persons, but seriously!?!  I am so not a hot house flower who blooms vigorously in the heat, and as for the garden, no rain until Friday was what the forecast said.

So about noon, out of a clear blue sky comes heavy clouds and wind. Then rumbling and rain. Rain in torrents, streams in the streets as the sewers tried to swallow the volume. Fortunately it evened out into a shower and there was no electrical activity. Just a surprise storm bringing much needed moisture and cooler temperatures.

I got to thinking about the storms that surprise us in life; sudden storms that we are not prepared for, that leave us vulnerable and shaken. There are big storms that leave us with a sudden loss whether of a person we love, or without income or with a frightening or debilitating health issue. There are many smaller scale storms like rifts in a relationship, or personal hurts or pain that can be a result of insult or disappointment. So many possibilities and so often unexpected.

Like torrents of rain that obscure the view, sometimes we cannot see the way through the storm or even believe there is a way forward.

Some storms are violent and cause the power to go out, so these personal storms can make us feel vulnerable and helpless; without power and in a dark place.

A sudden hard rain can cause flash flooding because there is no way to drain the water away quickly enough. In the same way we can feel overwhelmed, as though we are drowning and there is no help on the way.

The sky gets black and the thunder rumbles, and we feel frightened. The onset of the storm is menacing and loud. Sudden personal storms can be menacing and frightening and we might feel like something terrible is approaching which will change our life and who we are forever.

When the winds rise and whip the tree branches, some of them will break. So it is, that when storms come there may be change, an alteration to the way things are. We may feel beaten down. There may be damages that leave permanent scars.

So is there a way to prepare for life's storms? You may sense the presence of death, even think that you are prepared for its arrival, but you are never ready for those last moments and the finality of the loss that you are faced with. Financial storms, like needing to replace or repair a vehicle, always cost more that you expect, and take longer to recover from. Job loss packs a financial and emotional punch. Storms like betrayal of trust or a close friend moving away cause emotional damage that can take a long time to heal. 

I wish there was an easy answer; a special coat of protection that could be worn, or a magic umbrella that could shield, alas those only exist in fiction. I know that I have wished many times for those kinds of protection. I know too,that instead of being able to weather a storm, I have instead been beaten down and tossed about by it. Maybe that is just human, or part of the process of learning and growing. I do know that it is painful and can leave deep scars. Physical scars evidence a wound that has healed and are a visible reminder that you survived; emotional scars are invisible but perhaps they also need air and light and exposure in order to heal properly.

I grew up in a sheltered environment which left me over-protected, under-prepared for life and woefully naive. This is a personal observation about how I was raised and not a criticism of my parents, who like most parents try to do their best and hope for a good outcome. On top of that, I am not optimistic by nature; not even a 'recovering pessimist', an interesting phrase that I read today. My husband, by contrast, grew up in very different, and much more difficult circumstances that I did, yet is much more positive than I am. I think that those circumstances taught him at a much earlier age that life can be hard and sometimes unfair. As an adult he had formed a more realistic expectation of life from those experiences and a healthier attitude to dealing with life's storms; stuff can happen, and I will deal with it when it happens. 

So while we may not be able to necessarily prepare for stormy times emotionally, we can prepare by acknowledging that life's road is bumpy and there will be personal challenges and those that affect the ones we care about. So my challenge is finding a balance between abject terror and hiding my head in the sand. Kind of an emotional tightrope for me.

There are several things that keep me from plummeting off the tightrope into the abyss; transparency is one. If I can stop worrying a thing in my head, and get it out into the light, it helps. So sometimes I need to just spit out this thing, whatever it is, and it loses some of its grip on me. So I call my husband and he will say 'its ok' or 'it can be worked out', 'no that's not dumb' or 'maybe a walk would help. It may sound simplistic, and he hasn't solved the world's problems, but he has listened as I admit to a worry, and then acknowledged it. Powerful.

Another thing that helps me to balance is the knowledge that there is a net to catch me. I tend to a loner, and no where near as social as I was when I was younger, but you need to have someone that you can always be yourself with. You need to find your 'tribe', which may be your family, but may instead be others with whom you may have more in common. Acceptance keeps you steady.

Balance will always be difficult to maintain, and at certain times in our lives a very real struggle. If you have not determined what things help you stay in focus, and are not making time for them regularly, then when those high winds come, you may not have roots deep enough to hold you firm. I know now, that I need a lot of quiet time. I know that a walk will refresh my spirit every time, and I know that my camera helps narrow my focus and concentrate on things of wonder and beauty that can restore.

Finally, not every day is stormy, so try to be present and enjoy the calm and peaceful ones. And when the winds howl and the rains come, you may sometimes slip and fall, but you will also find strength for the task, and solace for the soul.

From the Porch - Things I learned from my grandson

It has been an unusual week for me. My husband is in Quebec visiting his mom and I am home alone. I have never been home alone before; no spouse, no children, no furry companion. It kind of brings to mind things that you are not too keen to think about, like living alone. I was thinking about the progression of my life and roles; daughter to wife, wife to parent; and now parent to grandparent. 

Grandparent is a new role. Our grandbaby will be 11 months old soon at which time his mom and I will both marvel and mourn at the speed with which time passes and things change. It seems like he was a 'bump' only yesterday and we were breathless with anticipation. (My sweet daughter-in-law was breathless because he was a big 'bump', and he was keeping her sleep deprived.) 

Rather than travelling further down the memory lane that leads to 'Tissue Town',  I decided to think about the lessons I could learn from having a baby in my life once more.

Babies are a reminder to be grateful. Life is without guarantees. You can't know for certain that you will have children of your own, or that you will live to see your children grow up. Life is fraught, so when a lovely, healthy baby is born into your family, you are grateful for the gift.

Babies teach us that crying is a natural expression. It helps parents to identify when baby is hungry, or needs changing or has pain, because he can't tell you. It is unfortunate that in our society this has somehow translated into 'crying is for babies'. As adults there are also times of pain, times when we have no words, and a cry from the soul can lead to solace.

Smiles can heal. There is just something about when my grandson smiles at me. It is like the sun comes out, my heart flips over, and I feel that I have been given a great gift. I feel acknowledged, recognized, important; like I have achieved something very important. It reminds me that perhaps someone might feel visible instead or invisible, acknowledged rather than ignored, if I just smile at them today.

Babies bring out in us a desire to protect. We don't want anything to upset or hurt them, but we are forced to accept that some things will hurt; like needles, and rashes and getting teeth. Hurtful things are a given; we cannot protect or prevent them so our job becomes to prepare them, and always to be a place of solace. 

 'Dad time'

' mama time '

My grandson has shown me the beauty of spontaneous joy. J R will suddenly begin to dance or bounce or do his baby version of 'head-banging'. What a wonderful thing to have no inhibitions and feels completely free to express his feelings. We all probably need to have a 'happy dance' more often. (If you were raised a Baptist like me, you may need to practice in private until you get the hang of it.)

' Dad is playing Social D!'

It is so fascinating to watch J R explore his world. Each day is new and everything is a wonder. Toes wiggle, and fingers are very useful; hands however seem to require more training. Music makes you want to bounce. Some things are scratchy like daddy's cheeks. Faces are all different. Grandpa has bristles under his nose. Bearded giants are not scary. Grass tickles and bunnies are soft. There is so much that J R wants to see and touch and put in his mouth, and it is slightly terrifying to watch his single-minded determination to do so.  As we grow older we often lose the ability to look at things with fresh eyes, without learned biases or associations. My grandson reminds me of the need to cultivate that sense of wonder and discovery again. Like a child.

'I can whistle, just give me a sec'

'tastes good and fun to play with'

One of my favorite things is listening to J R. He can say 'Dada' but won't perform on cue. His mom and I keep trying to get him to say 'Mama' but he just tilts his head and grins at her. A word he does use frequently, and in correct context is 'Wow'. I love that. It means he has seen something new and interesting; a bug, a red truck, a new book. It reminds me that it is important to not only notice the things around me but to acknowledge them and express appreciation of what makes them interesting and unique. 

'Wow!'

I am also struck by how swiftly time passes and how different is the world J R will grow up in than the one I experienced. I can't imagine the changes in technology that he will see and accept as a normal part of his life. I sometimes wonder what I will be able offer that would be relevant to him. I guess we will see as time goes by, but in the mean time he can know that Grandma loves him, and maybe that is all that is important.

' I'll take this selfie - everyone smile'

' Grandma, you let Netflix time out"

So darling boy; thank you for the joy of holding a baby once more; for smiles that light up my day and hugs that heal my soul; for the privilege of seeing my son become a father; for showing me that life is still an adventure; for reminding me of the wonder of discovery, and facing the world with expectation. Grandma loves you.

'and she kisses me, a lot'

And thank you to my dear son. I am so in awe of you and deeply proud of the man you have become. And to my sweetest Leah; thank you for being the anchor and touchstone of your home, for loving my son as he is, helping him to be all he can be and being his safe place. Thank you for always making me feel welcome. I love you both and am grateful for you.   

'J R, say 'mama''