Happy Birthday to my Daughter



Happy Birthday to my Daughter

In the midst of a surprise snowstorm in October and more than a month early, an erratic labour produced a lovely child with enchanting pale blue eyes; eyes the colour of autumn morning skies.

A new woman in the world.  A tiny pink mouth in a miniature of her father’s face.

She would grow to be generous, make spontaneous decisions, and have boundless capacity for love and sudden laughter.

A mixture of warmth and adventure, ever bringing home stray friends, excelling at school and university, especially in the sciences, arts and writing.

A woman of strong will and inner strength, graceful movements and slow temper, wise counsel and empathy.

She is all this:  world traveller, gourmet cook, handy-woman, organizer, maker of lists, caretaker of the environment, working Mom, fierce and loving mother of two sons, civil engineer, wife.

And more:  red haired, blue-eyed baby, now Senior Construction Project Manager, with wicked wit like her Dad’s, fit and slender, healthy and strong, more beautiful than she knows herself to be.

Happy Birthday to my daughter...

As you walk your own path,

as you dream your own dreams,

as you live the life you choose,

may your living be blessed.

I love you,

Mum

Words and photo are ©copyright Carol Steel.

Today is Magic

Today is magic.

The autumn morning sunshine slants through the trees, back lighting the leaves.  They glow green, rust, orange.   The yard is enchanted.   Shadows stretch long fingers across the grass.  Breezes shake sound from the trees, a dry rustle like the patter of waves washing over pebbles.

The house is quiet except for the hum of the refrigerator and the tick-tock of the kitchen clock.  I sit here at the table surrounded by windows on three sides, just being and watching.  There is a funky scent of fall in the air, not unpleasant, simply the slow decomposition of yellowed hosta leaves, a cool fragrance whispering of winter.

The red squirrels are busy scurrying about, bursting with energy.  They are scrounging for food, digging holes in the earth, burying food, storing nuts and berries and seeds.  They chatter and scold at other squirrels and birds, like news reporters.   Intruder alert, breaking news.

Red squirrels are sociable; they wrestle and play and chase.  Three of them are playing tag in the trees and swirling around the trunk of the ancient maple, a blur and whirl of red-rust on dusky grey bark.

Squirrels are adept at preparation, but make time always for play and socialization.  They remind me: work and play go together; one is not balanced without the other.

It is a praiseworthy lesson.

Words and photos are ©copyright Carol Steel.

Black-capped Chickadee Visitors

Black-capped Chickadee Visitors

On this gray, drizzly day, the only cheery notes are the songs of the Black-capped Chickadees, the provincial bird of New Brunswick.  They flit to the feeder, grab one black oil sunflower seed and fly, bouncing to a maple or spruce to hide in the thick branches and eat.

Fun to watch, their quick aerobatics to and from feeders mean I have to be quick to capture photos.   As I sit by the window on the lookout for them, I notice them investigating me; these enchanting chubby birds with black caps and bibs.

Black-capped Chickadees have white cheeks, soft grey backs, grey wings with white tips and grey tails.  Their whitish undersides with buff coloured sides give them a cuddly appearance.

New Brunswick isn’t the only place where Chickadees are found.  There are seven different varieties found in North American; five types live in Canada.  For more info, click on:   http://www.birds-of-north-america.net/chickadees.html

One legend says if a Chickadee flies into a tree and sings, chick-a-dee-dee-dee, someone is coming.   http://www.firstpeople.us/FP-Html-Legends/TheThunderNationAndTheEagle-Unknown.html

I wonder who it will be.

Words and photos are ©copyright Carol Steel.  Text in red will take you to another website with additional information, if you click on it.

Dragonfly

Dragonfly

Your ancient soul

is ever becoming

something other.

You begin as egg,

hatch to water nymph,

give up gills, leave the larval shell behind

for air and light and sun.

You transform again and again.

You warm your wings.

You dance on air

in sudden, shocking beauty,

elegant and iridescent.

Jewelled, precious creature,

you warm your cold blood

in the light

and become the light.

You scatter and refract;

you become the rainbow.

Your head, all eyes,

sees in every direction

except

behind you,

where winter and death

are stalking.

Yet, you refuse them.

You live.

You know

your shimmering self

will be reborn,

again and again

to walk the water,

to dance the air,

to feed from the wind.

Words and photos are ©copyright Carol Steel.

Pine Siskin

Pine Siskins at the bird feeders

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone

These Pine Siskins entertained as I watched from inside,

and ate my dinner while they ate theirs.

Happy Thanksgiving to all.

Photos and words are copyright Carol Steel.

Thoughts Following Surgery

Thoughts Following Surgery

Piercing sheaths of skin,
pain explodes
into unbearable fever.
Like wounded willows,
I leak,
form a crust,
mend into a ridge
and hollow.

Better to rustle
in the breeze
than to become brittle,
bitter against

the surgeon's charm.

This poem is written for Wordle 77 from The Sunday Whirl.  We are asked to write a poem using the twelve words given above.  If you'd like to see what others have written, click here.

Words are copyright Carol Steel.

A New Feeder

A New Feeder for our Birds

My activities are limited for a time so Gary bought me a new feeder to watch and enjoy.  The purple finches are enjoying it too. 

 

The first visitors were woodpeckers and chickadees.

Soon many birds were after the black oil sunflower seeds.

And on clean up, where I spilled seeds, we have ...

All photos and words are copyright Carol Steel.