December 23rd, the temperatures rose over 10 degrees Celsius. It was springtime weather at the end of December. Two days of rain cleaned the streets, sullied snow banks and melted most of the snow. Makes it doubly hard for half-doubters..one of my three grandsons… to still believe but painstaking stories, Crosby’s songs and want-to-believe children makes it still happen…one more year.
grey puddles
born from melted snow
earth’s enigma
~
White Christmas
fairy-tales echo
crooner’s refrain
Solitude may not always mean sadness, it is simply being alone. Many times it is by choice. It is interesting that loneliness, isolation, seclusion and privacy are synonyms found for solitude. I suppose if it is not by choice it can be painful and lonely. However, if it is by choice, it is almost a refuge, a place to breath, collect one’s thoughts…create, compose. Perhaps when we know of someone who is living alone, we could ask if they feel lonely and not assume all persons living alone are unhappy. I love people; I am a very social person and love to laugh and enjoy the company of friends and my children. I also love my “alone” time where I can hear myself think. The silence sometimes screams …those are often my thoughts waiting to be put “on paper”.
Since the passing of my mom, I don’t feel the same aloneness I felt leaving work, walking with a heavy step after a shift…I feel a presence, a shadow that quickens my step, removes a load off my shoulder…I feel blessed…in her grace…shadow of her love.
Walking home
under the umbrella
skies weep
skies weep
souls scream shedding despair
bleeding,
I no longer walk alone
her shadow comforts me.
shadow comforts me
arriving home alone
my cat purrs
my cat purrs
lingers by my laptop,
hushed whispers
hushed whispers
I’m here if you need me
no longer alone.
Merci pour ces jolies fleurs pleines de vie et de couleurs chantonnaient votre appui illustrant votre amitié merci pour votre soutien votre support m’allège si bien éblouit mon quotidien Merci pour votre appui.
I took another long route to work today. After a snow storm, I love to see the trees covered with thick snow, many streets only one side is plowed. This reminds me when I drove to work at 6pm. I had to move my car to the other side so the snow plow could clear the street. There was usually always a warning, a truck drives up ahead with flashing lights and honks to warn a few drivers to move their vehicle, otherwise they get a hefty ticket.
Today I was in awe at the parks and the trees. Of course I felt sorry for the cyclists because we have many avid winter cyclists who often have trouble finding their bike in the huge snow banks the snow plows created. Today it was wet heavy snow and the streets were slushy. My feet were soaken wet…guess my boots are not as waterproof as I thought.
Working today from home, I was blessed to be spared braving the winter storm we are having here in Montreal. Although I would normally take public transit, I knew the walk on slippery and some slushy paths would not have been pleasant.
By the end of the day, I could see the rising temperatures had turned the snow to ice. What beautiful images I saw as I admired the bare-branches-no-more, and tiny icicles hanging on like tear drops. I felt elation and a sudden gust of childlike wonder. For long moments, I could feel my grief dissipate, replaced by mild sparks of enchantment.
Tournesol dans un Jardin 