Pictures from Cherie

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wondering the world

was just perusing some pinterest stuff an old friend had facebooked (now that is a blog just by itself...) and was met with a list of 100 wonders of this world capped with a "how many will you see before you die". I took a look, I do travel some, and i will die some day.  about half way through I decided this list was silly, it is someone else's list.  I don't think I really have a list... an active volcano and lava are probably the only things I really long to see.  But then I think a flower is far more wondrous than a building, no matter how large.  Don't get me wrong, I appreciate architecture very much, I am just saying a man built the thing but time made the flower.  Do you ever play the de-evolution game?  What did this look like 100, 1000, 10 000 years ago?  we see but a snippet during our short time here and yet we still observe change, for stresses abound,  Some the hand of man, some the nature of things.  i digress.  
i observe time in nature, the soft boundaries of the living.  I do not feel that with the inanimate. I only see decay marking time in man made things.   This quality of time as presented in the living is not about vibration, all things vibrate, it is about the co-mingling of energy.  I believe it is what is responsible for the sense of well being most everyone feels after spending time observing nature.  A recognition that the world is alive and we all mark evolution together. A grand oneness. who wouldn't feel better after being reminded of that?   

Fathers Day

i choose the font trebuchet today.  i do so because without my father i wouldn't have the foggiest clue what a trebuchet is or how it worked.  the stories my family friends recall so readily regarding my curiosity are first met with that long puff of exhaustion then a smile by my dad. apparently i asked about everything and now that I see the same qualities in myself, it is his own damned fault!  my dad is a teacher, through and through.  to create such an awareness and appreciation for the world around me by demonstrating and explaining the interconnected-ness of all things fed my desire to know why.  for when you are young it is difficult to realize that the why in many things is 'because a person wanted it that way'.  when i examined the systems and workings of nature they all seemed logical to me, even the interplay and stresses upon the systems that humans created made sense.  but the why the humans acted that way never did.  as i grew older i became an advocate for the minimization of these stresses and tried harder to understand why in hopes i could communicate with them to make them understand... today i have many miles and interactions under my belt and i see the wisdom my father tried to share so many years ago- the inevitability that all of that reasoning distills down to "because it is".  that realization has not dulled my sense of curiosity for between here and there is a world of adventure and learning.  i still try to understand why when it comes to humans but now it is with compassion and empathy rather than the anger and outrage of youth.  this is true of my father as well for his is human, not superman.  I now recognize how tired he must have been on friday nights after a long week of travelling, but he still made family chinese food cooking night fun.  every time i use a sharp knife i hear his guidance... i am very thankful that he included me in his weekend warrior adventures even though he probably just wanted some alone/man time. every time i am in the forest i hear his voice in my ear telling me look over there and then he squats behind me and i look down the barrel of his pointing arm to the target and recite to myself my fathers mnemonic.  I am always grateful for these gifts and so very proud to be Bill Turbitt's daughter.  

hug you soon xo

present

after a beautiful and extra long hike this past sunday i cannot shake how much i miss my dad.  it has been a while since he and i took a hike together.  i have fond memories of exploring the wilds (the bush we sudburians call it) around my house, camping and fishing spots with my dad for he is an observer.  after you spend a while in the bush you begin to realize that everything has a shape and a sound.  you can see a silhouette and know there is a partridge over there and listen to hear a beaver slap it's tail in warning.  you can know the rain is coming when the silver maple turns over her green leaves to shine silver. you can count between lightening strikes and thunder to estimate how far the storm is away. you can tell a red and white pine from each other by their structure but also from the smell of their sap.  a blue jay sounds very different than a cardinal and you can eat this but not that.  these observations epitomize the concept of 'being present' to me.  To notice what time the sun set or remark upon which flowers are in bloom is to be present in this time and space, for you are one with everything.  This everything asks nothing of you it is always there, waiting to be observed, to be remembered.

Now it is I who points out everything i observe in the world around me.  I try to take the time my father did with me to share the gift of being present.  No one ever had to teach me to meditate.  If you sit in a meadow or on a riverbank and look around your mind is free to push away concerns and be instead be flooded with the simple truth that you are present here and now, with the birds and the bees, the grass and the trees.  I am not saying it doesn't take practice, for life is just that- a practice, I am saying that observation can require a little time so grant yourself permission to slow down and be un-busy for a moment or two.  

a blank page

it is with much pleasure that i stare at this blank page.  I do it both virtual and AFK, just stare at the freshness, at the emptiness of the page.... i tend to write for my work.  I have been a technical writer since the first criticism popped out of my mouth when i was a youngin' reading the instruction set for <fill with anything from BBQ to surround sound> out loud to my dad.  i have become more aware than most that certain words do not translate well into other languages, or have secondary meanings that dilute or confuse the message.  just as my life has a soundtrack it also has its screenplay.  i am pleased to have little collections of observations link themselves together in my brain to create memories, ones that i attempt to express and share on occasion.  to try and find just the right word to be as succinct as possible is my life's challenge.  marketing and advertising years have installed that task in my quiver.  when you have but 80 characters to entice or 2x3" to educate and persuade you can become very troubled over a comma and actually find uses for a semi-colon.   

I sat down today to write about a thousand things in my head but instead found the blank page to be soothing, the recognition of freedom writing provides.  take whatever is in your head and write it out, take the time to actually form the arguments or thoughts then examine them critically.    when you write it down it moves from the ephemeral to the enduring, even here in the electronic world.  there are those who believe that the only clear way to manifest an intention is to write it out and read it aloud.  i encourage you to give life to your thoughts and to share them.

springing

Oh man spring comes late at 9000 feet.... Last weekend we drove down to Boulder to help a friend out and it was green, trees had leaves, it was 28C.  We had the snow tires changed out and grabbed all of the camping gear from storage.  On our way back up we drove in some of the worst conditions I have EVER encountered, and hey, I am from Canada.... as the Subaru acted as an icebreaker we giggled that we must look like we got off a plane from a warm destination, for our shorts and sandals were not at all appropriate dress for the weather.  
But spring it IS here in the Rocky Mountains.  Snow is gone from all but the full day of shade spots swelling the creek to a full-on river complete with mosquitoes   The fly fishers are clogging up the Blue River and on a rest from a bike ride to the dam the other day i witnessed their successes.    
Why did Lightfoot make pussy willows so damned melancholy with all of those flat chords?  Yesterday they looked very happy with their yellow halos against a strong sun shine.  Buds are out but no leaves.  
The ungulates are active around the neighbourhood and below are a couple of shots I took in a hurry outside the kitchen window.  It pleases me to wash dishes and see them.  It also reminds me to exercise a little more caution when hiking. 
But the best thing about spring here in Silverthorne are the hummingbirds.  Squealing kamikaze sirens as they race from pine to pine.  One became infatuated with x-mas lights i have around the patio so I got a closer look, not a variety I am familiar with.  The soaring birds are back as well but it is tough to ID them from the ground whilst they twirl on the updrafts far above.
I look forward to wildflower season and a little macro work. 

that couch

caught a bug, was worn down a little and went to a concert, then partied with some friends in Denver all night, watched the sun come up.... caught a bug.  decided to lay down in the evening hours to try and honour my body's request for rest.  as i lay there on the couch looking out over the land of the sandman a familiar feeling rushed in.  there were many days after a full day of learning at school that i would come home and take a nap on my mums couch.  it is my mums couch because it was pink and queen ann style.  the best thing about that couch was it's length, so maybe my father did have something to do with it.  it is one of the few couches i have met that i can sleep on for i am tall, and so is my dad.  i enjoyed napping on that couch over my bed mostly because the living room was very close to the kitchen.  it was incredibly comforting to hear the rest of my family in the kitchen, to mutter contributions to conversations, to feel them come in and check on me, all to soon to poke and prod if i managed to make the journey to sleep.   it was a time to feel safe, to let go of all of the pressures of the outside world, to rest.  
Now as i lay there, my ears strained to hear that comfort.  These days it is I cooking the meals, making conversation with the cat, telling the stove timers beeping to hold on a second...   I lay there missing my mum and that couch.  I hoped for a moment that everyone gets a memory or two like that, memories of a safe haven and a mother's love.