Sunday, April 26, 2020

from Isaiah 40 and the south Saskatchewan river bluffs

Do you not know?
Have you not heard?





The LORD is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the ends of the earth.








He will not grow tired or weary,
and his understanding no one can fathom.

He gives strength to the weary
and increases the power of the weak.







Even youths grow tired and weary,
and young men stumble and fall;











but those who hope in the LORD
will renew their strength.










They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint.

Sunday, April 12, 2020

easter morning












a chill spring wind bites at our faces
the ice gathered slick and thick
on walkways
eastern horizon clear and
turning pink
seagulls and geese calling out as
they rise from the river
late moon still hanging high in the sky
bright pink spreads higher
invading the clouds

shimmering orange light spills over
the place where heaven meets earth
grows more brilliant till
I have to look away
blazing on the horizon till
morning breaks
and it is day
throws our shadows far across the
snow as we walk back home

the sun has risen

Christ has risen
He is risen indeed

Saturday, February 15, 2020

bird counting



There was steam rising over the river this morning when I bundled up to go for my first ever birdcounting expedition.  I figured I'd see the chickadees who hang out around the river bank,
I'd likely hear a woodpecker, and I wanted to count some hardy Saskatoon Winter Ducks (after my morning's research, I'm going to call them Common Goldeneyes). 

Watching the birds often makes me think of my mom.  She paid attention to them.  Noticed who was around, and when the sparrows were fighting over the bird houses in their back yard.  She and Dad made sure to have lots of food out for them. I don't think she ever participated in a great backyard bird count.  But I'm pretty sure she would have enjoyed it... and laughed at her oldest daughter taking such an interest in birds. 

So I walked my favorite path to the river, and stood on the bank with Randy's telephoto lens, one glove off to try to focus on the Goldeneyes playing in the water, among the morning mists. 

Thinking of Lydia.  Thinking of a God who sees each sparrow - master of the bird count. 
It was a good morning.

My count, as submitted through ebird.org:
# of taxa reported:7
protocol: traveling
duration: 55 minutes
distance: 1.18 km

10 common goldeneyes
1 downy woodpecker
1 blue jay
4 common raven
6 black-capped chickadee
6 house sparrow
2 house finches (I heard a bird high up in a blue spruce but couldn't see it, so I turned on my audio, and the counting app added 2 house finches to my count.  I accept this interpretation of my reality, though I cannot visually prove it!)












Monday, December 9, 2019

like a crocus

on these days when darkness gets longer every day, and my Christmas lights need a timer that goes 18 hours on, 6 hours off, my morning readings take me to crocuses in Isaiah 35.

the desert and the parched land will be glad;
the wilderness will rejoice and blossom.
like the crocus it will burst into bloom...

the earth wakes up with crocuses
when the winter night loses its hold
scattered along the high ridges
among the grasses and thistles
lying low
so the wind brushes
over them in its haste to find a taller
thing to buffet
open in shades of lilac, lavender, purple
that you cannot see while scannig
the horizon

tired of winter we see only
ridges of old snow on the river banks
brown grasses
things that are not yet new
not yet awake

but if you find one
one clump of
bold
purple
springtime
crocus

you will discover
the hillside is singing
river banks echo
clouds stopping to grin
returning hawks spin as they soar

this is
the earth shouting for joy


Friday, October 25, 2019

granby river line

for Irene

the breeze came up soft
from the river in the mornings
waving through the pines
winding the grasses around its fingers

when the high ridges blurred
in the haze of the midday sun
the wind mostly held its breath
silent as the river tumbled by

fish flickered in the shadows
sheets hung silent on the line
till the afternoon cooled
breeze brushed around the corners

clothes dried
by the granby river sun
caught the scent
in every fibre and crease

I could fold the clothes
and carry the river
up the stairs
into our rooms




Thursday, October 17, 2019

morning moon

the old moon does not rush through the night
gets up a little late
hanging in the morning sky
as though she's lost her way

followed us to school today
disappeared without leaving traces
while we meandered along the pathways
popping up in unexpected places

overheard us
  while we discussed the colors
   of trees
   ..that bunnies hopped
   and stopped
   and also frogs
   or magpies who flew

and maybe
we could be a bunny on the way home
or a magpie
or a frog

the moon was waiting at school today
hanging in the morning sky
as though she'd lost her way

meandering on pathways



.





Monday, July 15, 2019

south saskatchewan moon

the moon rises full
as jupiter pierces the sky

when I reach the banks
the moon has already broken free

but the river holds
   the light
stretches it long and
   rippled

broken lines of light
disappearing into the far dark shore

pelicans glide across the river's moon
set all the tips aflame

till the current calms them
quiets the moonlight

rocking gently
as you rock your little one