As we recognize and celebrate Earth Day this year, I fondly think about my favourite tree.*
This huge and flourishing maple tree is in the front garden of my daughter’s summer house in outport Newfoundland. I look forward to seeing it each and every July.
“Trees are poems that the earth writes upon the sky.” ~ Kahlil Gibran
Caring for our trees is of vital importance, now more than ever. Strong, healthy trees help to clean the air by absorbing pollutants and releasing clean oxygen for us to breathe. They capture rainwater, which helps prevent landslides and floods. And, of course, they provide shelter and habitat for many forest creatures. All of this shows how trees help reduce the effects of climate change.
“The true meaning of life is to plant trees, under whose shade you do not expect to sit.” ~ Nelson Henderson
We can all play a part in countering the effects of deforestation. One way is the simple act of planting a tree or a number of trees. Check out the Canopy Project at https://onetreeplanted.org/
All around the world, people are playing Wordle. The popular daily word game has become a must for me (at least until a paywall presents itself), as it has for many of my friends, relatives and acquaintances.
Thinking about word games reminded me of a post I wrote ten years ago this month, not long after I started this blog. I spruced it up a little and added a couple of photos:
As far back as I can remember, I have had a penchant for words, especially the written word. Whether that love was instilled in me by a father who himself had a strong interest in language and books, or because I genetically inherited from him, I do believe he deserves most of the credit.
A familiar scene from my childhood was seeing Dad enjoy a little “light reading” before bed—devouring such tomes as War and Peace and The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich. On more than one occasion he was known to take an atlas to bed, to study up on the world geographically in relation to the news of the day.
Remembering my father that way always makes me smile. If only I could talk to him more about the books we’ve read. If only we could watch one more episode of Jeopardy together or play one more game of Trivial Pursuit as a family. He would have been eight-eight years old tomorrow (March 21), but we lost him nearly twenty years ago at sixty-nine. I’ve missed him every day of my life since.
I usually read about a book a week, but my passion for words doesn’t stop there. When I think of games, word games have always been my favourite. Give me a competitive game of Scrabble any day over other board games. I also delight in solving a difficult crossword puzzle, anagram, cryptogram, or jumble. And if playing Jeopardy, what is my favourite category? You guessed it: Word Origins!
When I think of word origins, one particular book comes fondly to mind, recommended and owned by our father, and now in my possession. Our Marvelous Native Tongue – The Life and Times of the English Language by Robert Claiborne, is probably the best book ever written about the origins of our language. Thorough in its examination and encompassing the first intonations of our caveman ancestors to the many dialects of today, I found it hard to put down, even on a second reading. Particularly notable are the many words we ‘borrowed’, and then kept from other languages, making English a true amalgam, and the rich, colourful and ever-evolving tapestry of words and speech we know today.
“To me, the greatest pleasure of writing is not what it’s about, but the music the words make.” ~ Truman Capote
Readers and writers: Do you play Wordle? What—or who—instilled in you your love of words? Do tell!
*Most of the above is from an Evergreen Post written in March 2012.
Hello everyone! Vivian K. Perry here, eager to bring you a fresh look of me enjoying Perry’s Point this morning.
It’s been an odd sort of winter here in Newfoundland and Labrador, with less snow than usual, particularly here on the Bonavista North coastline where a strong gale often whisks the flakes away before they can even think about settling. But overnight last night the light wind allowed a pretty layer of snow to fall, and the sun came out, so I couldn’t wait to go outside and explore.
This was my second trip outside this morning. Time to make more tracks!
I’ve made plenty of paw prints but I look for the dry spots too.
I think I’ve had enough for now. Time to go inside for a cuddle.
“You know, sometimes the world seems like a pretty mean place. That’s why animals are so soft and huggy.” – Bill Watterson
Check out my very short YouTube video below to see how I try to retrace my snow-prints! ~ love, Vivian
This afternoon has me wistfully looking back on our European trip, yet again. For this post in particular, I’m reminiscing about Paris and our visit to the Notre Dame Cathedral.
As enthralling as it was to take a tour inside this extraordinary example of French Gothic architecture, I was equally enamored with the feathery congregation outside!
In April of 2019, a massive fire tore through the roof of the Notre Dame, but a restoration by artisans is in the works. I have a feeling these birds have missed the tourists and will be happy when this historic cathedral reopens in 2024.
By the way, did you know that February is National Bird Feeding Month in the U.S.?
“Birds are the most popular group in the animal kingdom. We feed them and tame them and think we know them. And yet they inhabit a world which is really rather mysterious.” ~ David Attenborough
“Some old things are lovely warm still with the life of forgotten men who made them.” ~ D. H. Lawrence
I snapped these photos with my phone on July 11th last year while visiting my daughter and her family at their summer property in Lead Cove, NL. They are of my son-in-law’s shed, which once belonged to his father, and to his grandfather before that. The above quote came to mind from one of my previous posts, titled Old.
The weathered closeup depicted in the last photo takes me back to that summer afternoon, when I pressed my hand on the sun-warmed clapboard, grey as driftwood under its flakes of peeling paint. There’s something about old structures that inspire a longing, speak in soft whispers, as if sharing with me the poignant aura of days long gone.
Wait—what?? How can this be? I had thought my November would have dragged by much more slowly, after I signed up for NaNoWriMo and sequestered myself to my writing cave for thirty days. Most of those days started early too—pitch-black early before the clocks rolled back on the 7th—and yet the month flew by anyway.
It was pleasant rising with the sun on those mornings. Most of this blog’s “sun photography” has been of the sunset variety like the one on my header, but there is something special about the quality of the sun at dawn. The stillness, the quietude, the fresh hope that gives birth to each new day is perfect inspiration for writing a new chapter in a novel or starting a new chapter in your life.
“I write for the same reason I watch the sun rise every morning. Not to express some great truth, but because it makes me feel wildly, gloriously alive.” ~ Marty Rubin
Vivian K. Perry here, filling in for Jennifer who is up to her eyeballs in paint cans, brushes and rollers this weekend. Besides that, she needed a break from her laptop, as she’s been busy this month outlining a new novel.
Anyhoo, I’m sharing several photos of yours truly today. I want to show you a little bit of what an ordinary day looks like for a fourteen year-old feline like moi. I love to explore around Perry’s Point every day, rain or shine, because I’m an excellent watch-cat. These two photos were taken during a misty morning vole hunt.
I spend a lot of time listening for the tiniest of movements in the grass.
No luck this morning. Not even a measly shrew. I’ll try again later.
I happen to have a fondness for ordinary, drama-free days. No pressure, no worries, and oodles of moments I can spend any way I please.
My peeps noticed that I’m doing something new recently. I look for warm spots! Does this mean I’m finding it colder than I used to? Perhaps it goes along with my advancing years. In the photo below, I am in Jennifer’s recently vacated (warm) spot. I’m always stealing it.
May I help you?No, this isn't a guilty look. This is my spot now, so kindly buzz off.
“It has taken awhile, but I certainly do know it now – the most wonderful gift I had, the gift I finally learned to cherish above all else, was the gift of all those perfectly ordinary days.” ~ Katrina Kenison, author of The Gift of an Ordinary Day: A Mother’s Memoir
A little late, but this has been my take on Lens-Artists Photo Challenge 169: The Ordinary
Have a purr-fect week, everyone! Head bumps and nose kisses, Vivian
Hi, everyone! It’s a wild and windy Thanksgiving weekend with storm surges in my corner of the world, so I thought I’d share a few photos that show weather that is more, shall we say, temperate.
“The unthankful heart discovers no mercies; but the thankful heart will find, in every hour, some heavenly blessings.” – Henry Ward Beecher
“I’m grateful for always this moment, the now, no matter what form it takes.” – Eckhart Tolle
Happy Sunday, all, and Happy Thanksgiving to my Canadian friends and followers! ♥♥♥
To create an illusion of depth in photography, you need perspective. One way to create perspective is by using vanishing points. A vanishing point, or point of convergence, is the spot on the horizon line where the other lines diminish. Sometimes it is visible, other times not.
To start, I’m sharing three of my photos from here in Newfoundland and Labrador. They show fall, winter and summer, in that order.
Driving to Corner Brook on the Island’s West Coast
Looking back at our house from the shovelled path
The gang enjoying Cape Island Beach, Cape Freels
The following three photos were captured during my travels:
Driving through Tuscany
Shopping inMontreal
Champs-Elysees, Paris
“They dealt in transformations; they suggested an endless series of possibilities, extending like the reflections in two mirrors set facing one another, stretching on, replica after replica, to the vanishing point.” – Margaret Atwood
Jennifer's Journal 