The gnarly old willow tree in the front field is starting to show its leaves
The most important act of the day is the choice you make to look on the dark side or the bright side. That’s the life-changing thought that occurred to me this morning as I wrote down the usual way-too-long “to do” list. Continue reading
This year’s recent Sources of Knowledge (SOK) forum based in Tobermory at the tip of the Bruce Peninsula about an hour north of Hope Ness focussed on First Nation history in this area.
Hope Bay, looking out to Georgian Bay, from the top of the Niagara Escarpment
I regret having missed it; otherwise, I would have been aware of the special presentation virtually right around the corner from me on the other side of Hope Bay at the Chippewas of Nawash Unceded First Nation Community Centre at Neyaashiinigmiing (Cape Croker).
I’m kicking myself: it may have been a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to hear much more about the significant archeological work done at Nochemowening. Known in recent years as Hunter’s Point, Nochemowening, is an area of land below the Niagara Escarpment on this side of Hope Bay. It is part of Hope Ness. Continue reading
Never underestimate the power, or the fragility of nature.
Life on earth exists within a relatively narrow band of temperatures; a few degrees change either way may spell disaster in some parts of the world, and eventually all parts of it.
It’s certainly not the end of the world, yet, in our part of southern Ontario, Canada; but the impact of global warming and climate change is clearly being felt, apparently in the form of an unseasonably late, cool spring and, therefore, planting season again this year.
The understanding of who you are is within you.
Trapped inside, often for far too long, that clear vision of one’s true self desperately wants out, so it can be free at last to find its right path to becoming real. But things can get confusing, and we can lose our way.
I am reminded of the bird we saw two summers ago, a frantic little creature that somehow got trapped between two window panes in a second-floor room of this old farmhouse.
The window where the bird was trapped; and one of Wilma Butchart’s creations
We shared that special moment, didn’t we, my love? It told us something very important. We even knew what it was. But by then I suppose the troubles were already insurmountable.
The “new garden” at Cathedral Drive Farm, Hope Ness
Sometimes, in the absence of joy that comes from being in love, or otherwise feeling down for whatever reason, you just have to keep going.
Yes, there’s something to be said for simple endurance and survival, for just putting one foot in front of the other, for the knowing from experience that your life will get better, possibly in the very next moment.
I suppose one of the advantages of getting to a certain age is the view it offers of how dramatically things have changed, in so many ways. Whatever may be happening elsewhere in the world that is troubling and worrisome, my country, Canada, has changed and is still changing for the better. I will go so far as to say it’s surely one of the more hopeful places in the world; perhaps even the hope of the world.
Toronto, my home town, is now one of the most multicultural cities in the world
The incident with the heifer and her calf happened in the spring, down in the barnyard, out of sight from the house. It’s one of those things that remains clear in my memory after many years.
First, a warning: some people may find this too graphic and disturbing. Little House on the Prairie it is not.
I’ve been counting my blessings this week; and there’s two of them right there, Lila (lily) Marie and Mirabella (beautiful miracle) Dorleon, my youngest daughter and youngest granddaughter.
Oh, now that’s a good one, that Daily Prompt, “abandoned.” Good thing I didn’t spot it early this morning; otherwise, I might not have got anything else done except a very long-read indeed on the topic of abandonment. Continue reading
Finding Hope Ness 