IlluminAqua's Hibernation

This is where IlluminAqua's vibrant concert series takes place in Welland during the summer months. Under a fresh application of snow, its curving benches almost appear abstract and you can really appreciate the beauty of the design.

That's one of the beautiful things about snow: the way it changes the landscape so what you are accustomed to seeing appears very different. It must be sad to live down south where there is no change of the seasons, no reset button on the routines of our lives.

It's easy for me to say this now because I love snow and I love winter. And because I am invigorated by fresh, crisp winter air, I am more comfortable getting outside for activity in December than in July, thanks to the thick, muggy air we must navigate around here in the summer months.

This was the first major snowfall of 2013, taken on Wednesday, November 27. I typically go for a run along these gorgeous canal lands, but on this particular day, I decided to take it a little slower and bring my camera along for the excursion.

The snow that fell overnight was so thick and damp that it clung to everything it touched. Bare tree branches were adorned with thick, white highlights, giving them a fresh, pristine quality. They stood out like works of art against the darker apartment buildings and churches in the area. Ordinary shrubs were transformed into tidy topiaries and everything from fences to street signs were painted in the cleanest, brightest white.

Not only does the appearance of the thick snow produce a smooth, cohesive environment, but the blanketing effect also absorbs noise. It's more noticeable at night for obvious reasons, but even as I walked along the canal at 9AM, there was barely a sound, even though vehicles were being driven along the Division Street bridge as usual.

I took photos from this location, then walked down to Lincoln Street, and across to the opposite bank, and back to Division Street. It was calming, therapeutic, and stimulating all at the same time, and provided more evidence of how beautiful the city can be.

The Rink at Rockefeller, Manhattan 2013

It was a simple, specific goal. In the array of all that Manhattan has to offer, amid all the lights from the twinkle lights in the trees to the pattern of office windows still illuminated after 5, we wanted to see the tree at Rockefeller Center all decked out for Christmas!

As this year's trip was later in the year than usual, we decided it was a fair expectation. Not only were we on the cusp of December, but the sun would set earlier so we would have more time immersed in darkness and surrounded by lights before we had to make it back to the bus. As usual, the trip was a quick dart into the city... travel overnight on Friday and again on Saturday night, and be back in Canada by Sunday morning. I never spend the night, never stick around the see the sunrise. Some people say I'm crazy, but I think it's brilliant!

So around 5pm we made our way from Times Square to Rockefeller's explosion of lights. It was stunning but we were soon disappointed: there was a tall black void in the glow. The tree was erected but it was dark. No lights.

We wrestled our way through the crowd of skaters awaiting their turn on that famous rink. I stood on the platform and took several pictures of people whizzing past, before the glorious variety of lights. It was a gorgeous scene, one that eased our disappointment. As long as we didn't look too high upwards, it was a gorgeous scene!!

As we walked back towards the street, we spoke with a policeman in the crowd and discovered the tree wouldn't be lit until four days later. Four days into December when we would be back in our respective real worlds and putting up our own, smaller, versions of Christmas trees.

The knife became wedged in a little more on Sunday evening when my kids and I were watching Home Alone 2: Lost in New York. A holiday favourite for sure, particularly since both my son and I could utter the words: "I've been there" throughout the story. But he wasn't with me on this recent trip. So towards the end, when Kevin and his mother are reunited, the scene of the brilliantly lit Christmas behemoth was a frustration he didn't share. 

It was cool to discover, though, that the path leading up to the rink in the movie was adorned with the same angels and stars I had just seen in person. So that was good!

Delta Armoury Reflection in London, ON

 

"...the grass is always greener but you still have to cut it..." - Hawksley Workman

 

 

Usually, when the urge to get away pokes at the arm and tickles at the sides, plans are knit together for an evening away at a hotel, usually in Toronto. In August, however, the decision was embraced to stay in London instead. Here was a city I had never explored but one with which my travelling companion had developed close relations while achieving a degree at Western University some years ago.

Unbeknownst to me during the planning stages, this trip would end up tickling more than just one of my sides. It indulged my creative side, my musical side, my dreamy side, and my determined side that perpetually aspires to do more. Inspiration nudged up against me many times. Thankfully, I took notes.

So plans were made to visit London and stay at the gorgeously renovated Delta Armoury, but that's about it. Other than a sold-out Hawksley Workman concert at Aeolian Hall, there weren't any events that caught our eye. But that was fine - there was market-hopping and window-gazing and idea-mingling to facilitate our desire for an escape. The concert tickets remained in the backs of our minds, but the possibility of attending was creeping further and further away as the start time approached. Mere hours before the show, we finally scored entry thanks to an early morning hail-mary Kijiji ad seeking a pair tickets to the show!

I had first discovered the music of the quirky and passionate Hawksley Workman about fifteen years ago when I stumbled upon Jealous of Your Cigarette. (be honest: you're intrigued...) That was the only song I really knew, but over the years his name would occasionally surface and I came to view him as a creative and serious musician. Then I became enamoured with Oh You Delicate Heart and sought out more.

Experiencing his music live exceeded all expectations!! It was at times mesmerising and whimsical and intriguing but overall thoroughly entertaining. Everyone in the room seemed to know his music and some even gravitated towards the stage as the show went on to dance and become further entranced. My favourite takeaway from this concert was the discovery of his We'll Make Time, a song performed early in a repertoire of music largely unfamiliar to me, but one that I knew I would retain as a favourite.

While purchasing actual takeaways from the show, we caught up with friends spotted in the crowd, a charismatic couple known thanks to past jobs and schooling. Here were two people who had taken risks earlier in life to further their crafts, each one boldly proposing significant writing projects without any concern about whether their ideas would be accepted. But accepted they were - one of them has made a career out of cranking out episode guides to several very popular television shows. And that's just a side venture!!

The following day, we ventured to Western University and meandered around its bookstore. Along with a few good bookmarks, I happened to pick up Molly Birnbaum's Season to Taste, a descriptive and sensory memoir about embracing life changes and taking control of the next steps. In short, imagine an aspiring chef suddenly losing her sense of smell! You don't have to be a whiz in the kitchen to appreciate how that could derail someone's life path.

Aside from the inspirational message, this book resonated with me for a few reasons:

I was out of routine and still under the spell of an insanely expressive musician who didn't hesitate to put himself out there.

I discovered it while standing within a university, a destination I still wish I had pursued when I was younger.

And I was holding a personal accomplishment in my hand that I, myself, strive to produce, one that I know would be easier for me to realise if I read other people's words more often.

But why this particular book? The truth is I am a sucker for good presentation, and I would be lying if I said I didn't pick it up because of the cover: a simple row of mason jars, each one filled with a unique, unrefined food item. And the really interesting thing is if I had happened to come across the alternate edition, with the cover image of a woman sitting at a kitchen table, it would not have caught my eye at all. Funny how certain designs speak to certain people!

See below for two links that should serve to tickle any curiosity that may have surfaced from reading my impressions. I've described experiences that on the surface aren't related, but combined into one excursion, they continue to inspire and push me to reach some of the most substantial - and ultimately, achievable - goals on my list.

http://hawksleyworkman.com/2010/videos/the-delicious-wolves-videos/
http://mollysmadeleine.blogspot.ca/

Some Light on the Bridge

 

There are many images of Welland's old lift bridge rising out of the recreational canal like a pair of brontosauri approaching one another. Some photographs are shot at night, with strategically placed lights reflecting off the still water, one row lining the bridge and another row running back along the edge of the canal.

 

This bridge stands strong and proud as it guards the great intersection of our city. Not having been raised since 1972, it has remained an integral part of Welland's identity and a recognisable feature for so many residents and visitors.

 

With Niagara College's campus reaching north from the canal, there are so many transplanted young people stretching their wings for the first time as they live away from home. It is unfortunate, but they likely only venture downtown for a specific excursion, just to see what it's like, since everything they need is up near the college.

 

Twenty years ago, this was me. I lived just a few minutes away from the college and pretty much walked everywhere I had to go. One evening, I decided to take advantage of the newly launched community bus service that circulated later than the regular city buses. I wanted to see downtown, but I was happy to take the long way to get there so I could tour the area as well!

 

Seeing the lift bridge for the first time was awe-inspiring for me. I'd never seen anything like it, and not having yet viewed ships in the functioning waterway, I marvelled at the idea of a bridge - a part of the street - actually lifting into the air! And as we drove around the general area, I could spy glimpses of one tower or another through the buildings, grounding me as the bus followed its route.

 

I imagine it would echo the thrill of being in Paris and finally gazing upon the illustrious Eiffel Tower that one had only previously seen in two dimensions.

 

Even with its bridge-adorned canal, I know Welland is a far cry from Paris, but a historical, recognisable structure that reaches up into the sky, visible from many areas of a city, is something to be revered and preserved, regardless of its international stature.

 

Fast forward to a June evening in 2013 that saw me as a long-time resident meandering along the winding pathway leading towards Main Street. I was behind the Civic Square and shot several images of the bridge and its accessories as the sun receded into the escarpment. Like many people, I typically traverse the bridge on four wheels as I make my way up Niagara Street in the direction of the college. But this time, I saw aspects of this familiar structure while on foot that I'd never noticed from a vehicle, such as this smooth nautical light.

There are many ways to see the bridge, and many angles and facets to contemplate whether the vantage point is from a sister bridge or from the foot of its towers. Hopefully it remains a prominent Welland structure, and continues to be valued and maintained to stand tall in our downtown.

Toronto Rocks Lacrosse!

Although the game of lacrosse is one of Canada's National Sports, it was only recently that I had the pleasure of cheering on a game. My son had received three tickets to a Toronto Rock game for his birthday. So on a comfortable Sunday afternoon in January, he and his chosen companions (well, he chose his cousin -  I was more of a given not a chosen!) rode the GO train to Union Station and Air Canada Centre.

For some reason, I'd always assumed lacrosse was similar to ball hockey. After all, there are sticks, and a ball and a goaltender and the desire to move one past the other. I figured the main difference between the two was the passing of the ball at eye level as opposed to ankle level (which would explain the absence of shin pads which initially made my soccer and ball-hockey-playing son cringe!) But after viewing this game, we agreed that lacrosse more closely resembles basketball with its structured offence and defence rotations and even a shot clock!

Curiously, a very noticeable difference between professional lacrosse and other professional sports was the continuous presence of music. The playlist was of the same flavour but unlike watching a basketball or a hockey game, nobody hit the pause button upon the continuation of the play. During a hockey game, I would just be getting into the song when it would stop as the ref was dropping the puck. I always thought: wouldn't it be nice if the music kept playing as they athletes were playing? But now I also wonder if the energetic tunes might interfere with the spectators' attention to the intricate activities of the game itself!

Perhaps the onslaught of music actually adds a layer to the climate of this crazy game! After all, players are constantly whipping one another with their lacrosse sticks and jumping over one another. They clearly don't subscribe to the traditional sporting practise of calling penalties - there were barely any throughout the entire game. But it certainly wasn't due to the absence of roughness!

Overall, it was highly enjoyable to observe the skill required to line up a ball with a guarded net using a handheld net, and seeing players darting around with the precision and determination of a dragonfly intently following its supper. It was a thrill to experience something so action-packed and so Canadian - I  now know what a lacrosse game looks like!

Damselfly holding Peacock pose in Chapel's Cove, NL

One of the items on my 2013 "things I get to do this year list" is adopt a yoga routine. I have been wanting to try it for quite some time, citing a relentless onslaught of schedule management, supply procurement, people development, and financial administration. Plus I had a full-time job on top of all that! 

Some of the reasons people seek out yoga are muscle toning, meditation, flexibility, rehabilitation, concentration skills, and stress reduction. The latter two formed the basis of my goals, but I am discovering that the benefits of a yoga practise are all wonderfully intertwined. I am enjoying a little of each, save rehabilitation, with increased flexibility being the most noticeable improvement. And the most enjoyable part of the sessions.

Another unexpected benefit I've realised since attending weekly yoga classes is how much my body was already capable of. Sadly, one of the reasons I didn't take it up years ago when I felt the inclination was I was daunted by the poses and held fear that my body wouldn't be able to handle them. That was then! Now I have been rewarded with the discovery that I can bend, reach, and hold a lot more effectively than I thought. Instead of feeling frustrated by my body's limitations and wishing it were designed differently, I learned to appreciate it for what it is today and for how much it is capable of doing.

After just one lesson, I was intimately familiar with those terms that yoga aficionados seem to toss around so nonchalantly. Warrior II (I feel triumphant), Tree pose (I feel unsteady but determined to master this), and Downward Dog (a term I've always heard spoken adversely but I don't mind it).

Of course, the best one is Savasana. After the exertion of holding challenging poses and pushing the body to stretch in ways it's never stretched before, the immediate reward is to zone out and completely relax. Just like showers feel the most cleansing after a sweaty, intense workout and spring is more appreciated after a frigid, unrelenting winter, relaxation is more captivating after focused concentration. It's interesting that two ways to invoke such relaxation are imagining the body becoming immovably heavy, and imagining the body as light as air. I like the air reference because I visualise I am flying, or even lighter, blowing away like snow crystals. Sometimes I am melting, limb by limb. Or a feather being carried on the wind. Long grass waving in the breeze. I wonder what comparisons other people formulate in their minds during this all-encompassing meditative state! Maybe it is possible to think nothing at all, although I am thus far unable to pull that one off.

Afterwards, my pliable, weightless body carries me out of the gym with organised thoughts and a tranquil mood. I am walking tall and breathing deeply, my thoughts void of any judgement or uncertainty or agitation. Pure elation. Adopt yoga routine: check!

Great Concert. Big Fun. Sea of No Cares.

Great Concert. Big Fun. Sea of No Cares.

It was all present during Great Big Sea's outdoor concert at Safari Niagara this past August. The boys sailed into Stevensville, ON and delivered their trademark energy sending waves of elation to wash over the cluster of fans. Anyone who listens to Great Big Sea's music probably wonders if singer and guitarist Alan Doyle is as crazy and spirited in concert as he sounds on CD. And of course, like most multi-talented musically-reared musicians, his passion and energy comes across tenfold live. This is a man who obviously loves to perform and engage the audience. The entire band has always succeeded in doing that. Regardless of how many times I hear Sean McCann belt out General Taylor, with or without the heartbeat drum accompaniment, it always gives me chills.

The name of this tour is XX. Twenty. 2013 marks the band's 20th Anniversary of getting people on their feet and sharing in the craft of traditional and contemporary music. Upon reflection, I realised I've actually been immersed in their artistry for probably that long. The first time I saw them was many years ago - sometime in the  mid-90's. I was visiting my parents for Christmas, and a close friend of mine invited me to a concert at the Delta Hotel Ballroom in St. John's. I didn't recognise the name of the band but he assured me I would enjoy it and he never steers me wrong so I accepted the invitation. Great Big Sea was unlike anything I'd ever experienced before. I wasn't a big concert goer back then, and growing up in a small Labrador community didn't expose me to a whole lot of musical diversity. The concert was standing room only which didn't matter because nobody would have been able to stay seated anyway. I became intoxicated by the exuberance of the crowd and the passion of the performers harmonizing their lyrics and alternating instruments as effortlessly as we alternate cutlery. I was enthralled by the buzz of the crowd who gleefully sang along and somehow knew that the sad introduction to the story of Pat Murphy wasn't really going to be that sad of a song...

I still can't confirm how far back that concert occurred because my original ticket stub doesn't have a year on it!!! It just has Friday, Dec. 27th at 8:30 pm. But that's OK. I'm just glad to have been there as well as many more of their concerts over the years. And following the 2013 concert where I took this picture from the grass of Safari Niagara I was proud to purchase their anniversary tour t-shirt knowing that I was singing along to Mari-Mac long before anyone else in Stevensville, ON was doing it! That is, if they even can!

Buffalo as seen from Crystal Beach

 

 

Like many people, I am usually carrying around a pretty substantial mental list of things I would like to do "if I have the time". You know what I mean: specific little activities that would make me smile and breathe deeply and appreciate the beauty and whimsy of life if only I could make space for them. I'm not talking about the so-called "bucket list" of monumental events that require a passport and a second mortgage. I'm talking about the little pleasures.... activities that are usually pretty easy to make happen, close to home, and completely affordable. We all have them, based on our individual values, our personal preferences... comprised of those undertakings that either provide an escape or enlighten the senses or tickle some talent we have simmering inside.

I'd like to think such wonderful outlets don't become shuffled to the bottom of the To Do List of any given day because they are considered unimportant. It is because they are tasks that don't require immediate attention and don't affect an item high up on someone else's To Do List. As long as we complete our pressing tasks, our lives continue on their courses whether we get to the fun stuff today or next month or eventually. Nobody will nag at us for not indulging in the fun stuff. Except, perhaps, our own hearts!

This picture illustrates something that I have always wanted to do: drive out to the dock at Crystal Beach, ON, and take in the expanse of Lake Erie as well as some pictures of the Buffalo skyline. Crystal Beach is only a half hour's drive from me so it was easily doable. I drove out there this week and drank in the wide open space and gloriously refreshing autumn air while contemplating life from its lakeside collection of quarry rocks. I was snap-happy as well and with the dynamically shifting display of clouds, I was presented a different image every few minutes! It was a well-received escape from my usual landscape and I returned to tend to the other items on my list completely rejuvenated.

Salted View on the Rock

Salted View on the Rock

Cabot Tower, Signal Hill, NL

 

 

This is my latest in an eclectic collection of self-portraits. Never one for symmetrical or sparkly pretty,  I enjoy the natural filters applied by the reflective surface of choice: the abstracted ripples of a stainless steel wine fermenter, a round mirror's distortion, a window's slightly muted weathering... always unique and always inverted!

 

I love the idea of capturing by my own hand a moment in time in a place that intrigues me. They are so personal to me that I never have to write down where or when they were taken, even as they float contently in a sea of thousands of images.

 

This one was taken during a trip to St. John's, NL. I was looking into the exterior of the Cabot Tower while standing atop its roof and my Mom was looking towards the ocean due east! I was visiting in July and in addition to the warm sunshine, there was barely any wind! Another different way to experience the rock.

 

 

 

The spot on which we're standing can be seen in the photo below:

 

 

 

 

 

And for those of you who don't know what the Cabot Tower is, here is my full shot in all its strong, stately glory:

 

 

 

It's funny because I visit St. John's yearly and whenever I'm there, I venture to Signal Hill and I devour the imagery with my camera. Every time. Of course I always add new corners and streets to the list of things I want to see, but Signal Hill is always included. And I always grin when I'm standing there and I imagine that I'm taking the same shots again and again. But today, as I was searching for the specific illustrative shots seen in this post, I had to go through my archives to find them! The first picture is from 2013, the second one 2012, and the third was taken in 2010! So it's gratifying and exciting to learn that I am adding to my collection every time. And that regardless of how many times I see a familiar landscape or building or historic site, there is always something new to discover. After all, it is being experienced through refreshed eyes and another year's worth of experiences and understanding.

 

Sailing in Newfoundland

Conception Bay South, NL

View of Bell Island in the distance

July 17, 2013

 I lay back onto the deck and closed my eyes, relaxing all of my limbs, becoming even more aware of the gentle nudging of the waves. The sun was warm on my face, but not too warm. The breeze fluttered along my cheek but didn't chill it. It was a perfect day for sailing. 

I opened my eyes and allowed my gaze creep up the length of the mast. Beyond it, the brilliantly white clouds provided a fine accent to the azure sky. 

We had been out on the water for about three hours, and were now on our return voyage. My cousin, the captain, was inherently comfortable on the open water. His Dad, my uncle, instilled his love affair with sailing into his family, but I think to my cousin most of all. This, of course, trickled down into my cousin's own daughters, one of whom was joining us on this excursion. The two of them made a good team, easily interpreting orders while raising the sail, and providing feedback on where to drop the anchor. 

They had collectively decided it was a good day to moor at Kelly's Island, one of the three islands in Conception Bay South. It was quite a thrilll for my kids to sail onto the doorstep of this mass of rock that until now provided only a backdrop to numerous walks on the beach. The layers of sedementary rock formation are visible from land but downright captivating to observe close up:

As we made our way along the island's beach we had to stay a safe distance from its wall of rock for fear a shelf would give way! I felt like an explorer as we ascended the one safe path, excited to reach the top and see what it looked like. Of course, with its spruce trees and tall grass,  it resembled any other mass of forest in Newfoundland. But blend in the ocean view and distant community coastline and you know you're somewhere different. 

I had read in a tourism post somewhere that the ocean didn't bring icebergs this summer, but there were lots of whales. I reminded my boys of the whales we'd watched from the shore just a couple of evenings prior. So then, of course, we all began studying the rippled water for the chance to see one up close! And we weren't disappointed... we were treated to several sightings of whales as they gracefully surfaced. I captured a couple of them wth my 300 zoom lens but put it down soon after to ensure I also experienced it through my own lenses.

As that coastline became larger, I thanked my cousin for this incredible experience, and commented that I know he gets to do this whenever he wants (suggesting our elated reactions must seem excessive). But he smiled and said while that may be true, he still appreciates the thrill of being out here! I guess I knew that already but hearing it made the experience even more enjoyable for me!

A Decorated Wide Open Space

I shot this jaunty array of daisies just as the sun was setting on Conception Bay South, NL. Like a beautifully mismatched bouquet of flowers you'd pick for your kitchen table, it grows however it wants  along the top of the rolling expanse of beach rocks. 

They have the best view of Kelly's Island and the Bell Islands and the gulls that soar above them all. They can sway romantically in the evening summer breeze as they watch the sunset tinting the clouds a lemonade pink. They also have prime seating for the whale show that is on display this time of year that we were lucky enough to witness. It was neat to see this many whales sliding up out of the water at such close range... you could even hear them exhaling as they surfaced! It was an awe-inspiring display. And while I didn't have the right camera to capture the whales, I was able to capture a few flowers to remind me of how peaceful it was on the beach that night.

Current Swell

IlluminAqua - July 5

Because I love music, I had secured the opportunity to volunteer in the green room at a recent IlluminAqua concert in Welland. I had the pleasure of working with two charismatic women who made it their plan to spend Friday concert nights in that well-appointed office. It was the first leg of the folk festival, and we were tasked with ensuring a comfortable space for the members of Street Pharmacy, Jon and Roy, and Current Swell.

There was magic in my air that night.  I loved that all three bands were collaborating in a board room cleverly disguised as a dinner hall! I imagined the conversations they must have been having: Street Pharmacy sharing stories about their host town, all the reminiscing about various concert tours, and everyone exchanging ideas about their wonderfully expressive chosen profession.  

It was intriguing to observe the artists up close and relaxed before the show... a guitarist nonchalantly strumming around the corner, the strings behaving like extensions of his fingers to reveal the melody... sketching out schematics to illustrate their ideas for the lighting technician... and kicking around the hackeysack which seemed a fine outlet for connecting and blowing off steam before a show!

Close up, they were all polite - genuinely appreciative of the space and amenities provided to them, mellow and down to earth. On stage, they exploded out of their quiet personas to properly occupy the entire floating stage and engulf the entire block in music! It's awesome what a microphone and some well-timed lighting can do to amplify talent.

The boys appreciate their fans. I spied the lead singer of Street Pharmacy occupying the merchandise booth, happily signing CD's and t-shirts. Current Swell acknowledged those audience members they knew came from Ridgeway, from Sarnia, and from as far away as Boston to see their show. They then proceeded to play a song so many people were requesting and thrived on eliciting outright elation among them!  They acknowledged those people taking in the show from their kayaks, a sweet benefit of being afloat in Welland! 

At the end of the evening, I walked home with a smile on my face and some great new CD's in my purse with a complete set of autographs adorning them. There was no question about whether I would do it again. The WRCC was thanking me for volunteering, but I kept thanking them for the opportunity to be a part of it all!!

Striving to Achieve the Big "S" in New York City

Come for the Shoes

I've not been inside the walls of this footwear establishment nor do I have any idea about the quality or longevity of its offerings but a store with a name like this surely speaks to shoe-horny women everywhere.

Even those who aren't seeking sole satisfaction can appreciate a title like this.

I am in the latter category here - when it comes to shoe shopping, that is. I have to make a genuine effort to outfit my feet and I expend as little energy as possible doing the deed.

On occasion, I do feel the urge to embrace my inner Carrie Bradshaw and try to experience the euphoria of purchasing an exquisitely crafted, impossibly elevated, shamelessly expensive, and delightfully impractical new pair of shoes.

After all, I do love fashion and wearable art and I get it: the jaunty way they stand with their perfect matches, perched seductively on the shelves in rhythmic order. I like seeing them on models stepping all over the pages of Chatelaine and Vogue, and I marvel at real women who can sashay alluringly around the ballroom or the bar or the mall properly elevated and confidently upright. There’s something so alluring about a woman who is comfortable in her Blahnik’s (or her Jessica’s if that’s your arena – like all facets of sex appeal, it’s less about the cost and more about working with what you have). I appreciate the sensual effect of a high-heeled shoe, how it arches the feet in a way that just doesn't happen when feet remain parallel with the floor (although the barefoot approach does have its place). There is that slinky, stimulating shape and clever construction that defies gravity and demands attention.

But generally, I avoid the whole exercise - the ordeal of shopping for them, trying them on, paying for them, even storing them. The less time I have to spend before rows of shoes seductively whispering  "buy me" - even though they are out of my league - the better. As long as I have something structurally sound protecting my feet, I am good to walk. And since I am not afflicted with height-envy, I am okay with where I am. I don't need to walk in anyone else's shoes - I'll just be content to appreciate what other women do with theirs.

Red and White in Niagara Falls

 Canada Day on Queen Street in Niagara Falls, ON

As my son made his way over to the reptile exhibit with his camera, I held his place in the seemingly endless line for the inflatable slide. As I stood there, inching forward at a pace that would cause a child to bounce around long before reaching the compressed air, my eyes wandered among the crowd. I enjoyed the widespread display of Canadian spirit - residents and visitors came to the party in all their red and white glory. They sported flags dancing from their headbands like antennae and flags waving from sticks shoved into the taut hair of their ponytails. There were flags embroidered onto their backpacks, decorating the bands around their hats, and painted onto their cheeks. One guy even sported an actual Canada flag draped across his shoulders. They donned red and white striped socks, red and white t-shirts, and wore red and white streamers woven into their hair. Their offspring were carted along wearing red and white onesies as they focused on red balloons high overhead dancing from their strollers. Even the playground equipment at the end of Queen Street appeared patriotic in its fresh coat of red paint. And why not - it's such a great colour even on the other 364 days of the year!

In the Middle of Somewhere

Labrador City is situated in the middle of this Google Map satellite image.

Growing up, there was never any concern about the religious beliefs of foreign countries, the possibility that a quiet twenty-something might take his frustrations out on innocent people, or the threat of being assaulted on your way home from school. Feeling safe and secure weren't even identified as benefits because we didn't know anything else. We were just growing up and enjoying life. Aside from the very real threat of frostbite and the occasional black bear wandering into city limits, there wasn't much for us kids to be concerned about growing up in the mining community of Labrador City, NL.

We appreciated the pristine, natural world that stretched out endlessly beyond our town boundaries and sought many of our leisure activities within: hiking, cross-country skiing, camping, skidooing, fishing... We instinctively took care of that massive expanse of spruce and rock and water long before it was socially and environmentally correct to do so.

But just as we respected the dry, frigid temperatures in winter and the relentless black flies in summer, we respected the power of fire. When your whole world is a 40 square kilometre settlement tucked within 295 square kilometres of forest, you tend to respect such natural threats.

I remember the impact a distant raging forest fire had on our community. I suppose it would be similar to those who live in other areas similarly at nature's mercy - the threat of flood waters drowning your world or of earthquakes shaking it to pieces. My Labrador City world was never devoured by fire, but it frequently knocked on our door, letting us know it was there, reminding us of its potential. I remember people in nearby communities being evacuated, and others refusing to accept such an order, opting instead to remain tenaciously aboard their ship, coating it with a steady stream of protective water from their garden hose. I know people who have lost cabins, Newfoundland's word for cottage, a universal family refuge from responsibility-laden houses and time-dependant routines.

There is a fire raging in Labrador right now, close to town. Labrador City's neighbouring community of Wabush was recently ordered to evacuate due not to the threat of being incinerated, but to the poor, smoke-infested quality of their air. Like any event that necessitates an evacuation, those residents in the safe zones opened up their houses, churches, and cultural establishments to the ones displaced. It's a tense, uncomfortable, unsettling situation, but one that illustrates the generosity of neighbours.

Nature's fury imposes her will all the time, anywhere she chooses, as powerfully and as relentlessly as she chooses. It's a common story populating the newsfeeds and Twittersphere. But when she threatens the very place where you innocently spent the first twenty years of your life, you pay close attention. You feel the trepidation of its current residents, even at 2000 kilometres away. You can picture the pillows of smoke that smother the clean blue sky and flow past their television screens on the local news. You can smell the burning wood and moss and lichen and you remember that a dampened version of that smell will linger eerily along the highway for weeks after it has been extinguished.

One can only hope that temporarily poisoning the town's air is as far as the fire's assault reaches in Wabush. At last review, residents were permitted to return to their homes even as the fire continues to burn and the potential for another evacuation order remains. Even so, I imagine there is a wave of relief to return to their unscathed homes. Because regardless of how long you've been away from your home, you never forget what it looked like the day you left.

What home would have looked like the day I left twenty years ago.

One Passion Captures Another

One Passion Captures Another

Some might argue that it's unnatural or even unsettling to find oneself underneath a bridge. After all, the main reason for a bridge's existence is to enable secure passage over water. But on Welland's recreational waterway, it's perfectly acceptable to pass underneath one - several of them, in fact. This one is the historic Main Street lift bridge that, aside from the spirits of historically-inclined individuals, no longer lifts at all. But it does add to the character of the canal, whether or not you appreciate its structural stature.

And while the bridge does safely transport motorists over the canal, there aren't any motors whirring beneath it. Only non-motorised vessels are permitted, providing a welcome calmness for those who like to glide along in their canoes and kayaks on a mellow summer evening.

I happened upon this eclectic team of rowers one evening while I was exploring the eastern edge of the waterway. It was rather exciting to encounter, actually: a refreshingly dynamic subject to photograph compared to the motionless lightposts and monochromatic brickwork along the shore. Not only that, but the lime green and violet and royal blue of the rowers' jackets were like drops of paint against the combined greyness of the cement canal walls, the steel bridge, and the rippled early evening water.

You don't need to be a part of a team to experience the water in this way. Anyone can indulge in their flatwater inclinations on the old canal thanks to the rental program at the Welland Recreational Canal Corporation.  It's a great way to perhaps try out a new activity and to see the bridges one drives over all the time from a completely different angle!

A Few Residents of Broadway Avenue in NYC

My son recently discovered that he can purchase those hard-to-find trading cards from eBay. He still buys the packages, but sometimes likes to know he's getting a card he really needs rather than taking chances on packages. When he is awaiting a delivery, his usual direct entry into the house is interrupted by a pause to dip his hand into the mailbox. Even though the anticipated envelope will be addressed to me (as the owner of said eBay account) he always seems to know when its contents are intended for him.

It makes sense that his mail would stand out, aside from the outline of the enclosed card. Like many people today, most of what arrives addressed directly to me is in a business envelope with a formally typed address, either labelled or windowed. I don't receive much in the way of personally addressed correspondence anymore.

I suppose in one way, today's culture of on-line malls and limitless worldwide retail access means receiving goods in the mail is more prevalent than ever. But as someone who prefers exploring actual merchandise to virtual shopping, the thrill of mail anticipation is pretty much a distant memory.

It's too bad because it used to be such a thrill. I remember keeping a list of all the packages that I was expecting in any given week. I loved having a reason to rush out and check the mail. At any given time, my list might include things such as: Barney Bentall and the Legendary Hearts cassette from Columbia House, birthday party photos (with negatives) from Tootons, the latest colourful little catalogue from Au Coton, a pair of outlandishly coloured pants from Sears (because all we had growing up was a catalogue outlet), and a handwritten letter from my friend Julie who had moved away but was always very good at keeping in touch.

I occasionally shop on eBay, and once in a while I receive a wedding invitation but even these arrive with a cold, laser-printed label. Christmas cards are still hand-addressed but I have noticed a significant drop in their distribution as well. I suppose when you can see on Facebook that people are generally keeping well, and you can see how much their kids have grown and look like one parent or the other, greeting cards aren't the gems they used to be. Although my thinking is that because of tools like Facebook, we should make even more of a point to sit down and pen a personal note on a Christmas card. And imagine the impact this effort would have when it takes the form of a properly-timed birthday card!

It makes me wonder if mailboxes are going to be harder and harder to find or perhaps you don't know where any of them are until you need one... kind of like payphones. But like this row of mailboxes in Manhattan, they still hold a certain charm. And perhaps even more so.

 I made a calendar of some of my favourite NYC street photography to hang at my cubicle at work. Most of the images are of everyday life: local people walking, cycling, sitting, shopping, and browsing. I do love being a tourist and I fully embrace my place when I'm there. But that doesn't stop me from trying to imagine what it might be like to live in such a vivacious, eclectic city and wake up every morning with so many options!

The image above made the cut. I specifically chose this one for my birthday month because I love being around art, whether historically impressive or passionately personal. There's something comforting and relaxing about wandering among creatively adorned easels in an open air art exhibit, and this one in Union Square was an unexpected treat while exploring the city in April.

I think birthdays should be a celebration of oneself, to unabashedly indulge in whatever excites and amuses and pleases. It's a day to be embraced and perhaps buy special treats and flowers and whatever else would make the day special. I don't think it just happens without a little preparation and I don't think someone else should be on the hook to provide it. And it should not be overlooked.

Here are some more ideals I feel like sharing in my way on my day:

 

Former site of Dani's Bistro, St. Paul Street, St. Catharines

Try out new eateries.

                             

Antique Wooden Escalator ascending lower floor of Macy's - 34th Street, Manhattan

Take the easy way up if it's more interesting.

Spotted in a shop window near Union Square, Manhattan

Smile.

Flatiron District, Manhattan

Opt for the balcony whenever you can.

Spotted affixed to a lamppost in Manhattan

Say it in your own way.

Signal Hill National HIstoric Site

Allow yourself to be swept away.

Water Street - St. John's NL

Accept yourself for all that you are.

St. John's, NL with The Rooms in the background

Be intrigued by the juxtaposition of styles.

Rainbow Bridge, Niagara Falls

Always have good music in your vehicle.

And remember:

Spotted along the Harbourfront - St. John's, NL

(no caption required!)

Cheers!

Christine