“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
Indian summer winds blow through the hills, As the autumn sun shines on your hair; I will always remember the day that we met, In that wonderful time of the year.
So, will you dance with me tonight, my love, Beneath the September sky? Will you sing with me tonight, my love, And we’ll waltz for the rest of our lives.
~ excerpt from the song September Sky by Louise Morrissey
I will never forget the night we met in September of 1994, when “I fell head over heels in LIKE,” and how my whole life changed. Thank you for being you.
I’m sharing one of my Evergreen Posts today, because much of its content still applies to my life right now. Between berry-picking, bread-making, and gearing up for more writing this fall with a plan to take part in November’s NaNoWriMo—National Novel Writing Month—I expect to be busy. If all goes well, I will complete the first rough draft of my fifth novel (I have two published, two un-published) by November’s end. Thanks for reading!
I know our Atlantic Canadian summers are short and I treasure the warmer days while they’re here, but there is something about this season of change I truly love as well.
Late summer and early fall has a uniquely different quality, where on a sunny day the air lends a crisper, more metallic edge to the natural world. (This love affair hinges on one important caveat: that the northeast wind doesn’t blow too much and turn our world chilly and wet for days on end.)
The outlines of clouds against the steel-blue sky look sharper, heralding the approach of what is to come. Most foliage and grasses are still summery green. I relish them all the more, knowing the colours will soon transition into vibrant shades of red and gold before finally fading to the cool grey and white hues of late autumn and winter.
It is a season of harvest and renewal, a time of new beginnings and the dawning of fresh ideas. The kiddies are back in their classes. Though my own school days and child rearing years are well behind me, I still feel that push of motivation into new plans and goals, to make the transition into a stricter work schedule, to get back to writing more in the coming months. November and NaNoWriMo are still a ways off, but I strive to clear up all loose ends in preparation for – dare I say it without jinxing myself – a 50 thousand-word first draft of a brand-spanking new novel. But hey, I did it before, so why not?
Then there are the berries. Where would this season be without the berries?
fruits of the first trip
…and fruits of the second
In two afternoon jaunts, the blueberries are now picked, and it won’t be long before we are in on the barrens again to pick partridgeberries. (In other parts of the world, these lovely bitter, relatives of the cranberry are called lingonberries or cowberries.) I make plenty of the jam for my other half since he likes it on his morning toast all year round, not to mention in the occasional pastry tart with a generous dollop of thick cream.
Especially anticipated, besides an excursion on the barrens, is picking the plump, juicy partridgeberries that grow right here on our land. I checked all around the Point last week and it looks like a bumper crop this year, probably a sign of how plentiful their growth is everywhere else.
My boy and me back in the day
Coinciding with the cool-down in temperature is a return to more bread-baking. There’s nothing like the smell of a fresh batch from the oven to take the chill out of your day.
“Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.” – F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby
What do you like the most about this time of year? Relief from the heat? A return to a more orderly schedule? Getting the children out from underfoot and back in school? Or are you sad because the summer is nearly spent? Do tell!
This post was inspired by Ailsa’s Travel Theme: Seasonal.*
During our time away this month, we took our annual trip to the small community of Lead Cove, Trinity Bay. My daughter and family have a second home there, and it’s always nice to visit, especially in the summer.
Their property has lots of beautiful trees, but for this post I’m sharing the tiger lilies.
“Flowers don’t worry about how they’re going to bloom. They just open up, turn towards the light and that makes them beautiful.“ ~ Jim Carrey
I first heard of this quote from writer friend Pamela Wight‘s Instagram page. Thanks for sharing it, Pam. 🙂
Jennifer's Journal 