At Solla Sollew, or rather St. John's Conservation Area on September 8, 2012.

I was sitting on my favourite bench with a notebook just listening to the breeze as it curled around the branches and tickled all the leaves. The air was so comfortable it was without temperature and I was so relaxed I was without concern. I didn't even wonder if there was anything crawling up my back or hovering over my head or preparing to bite at the skin on my ankles.

As I watched my boys scope out the banks of the beautiful River Wahoo.. er, St. John's Pond, I revelled in the joy of watching them become blissfully immersed in their endeavour: to capture a bullfrog. My oldest was stealthily carrying a brand new net - not a meagre dollar store attempt, but a serious metal handled net from Canadian Tire. He meant business. But the frogs weren't at all impressed - they didn't even show up in greeting.

After four methodical, focused treks around the pond combing through every foliage overhang in every nook, he hadn't seen one frog. It must be the time of year, I consoled, as he reluctantly placed the jilted net beside me. Still not ready to return to reality, his attention turned to creatures of the flying variety, which are always faithfully available in nature's lush playground.

About milestone birthdays and bizarre weather conditions.

I embrace birthdays the way I embrace winter: enthusiastically and unapologetically. I have come to terms with the fact that winter is but a memory... a memory from this time last year!!! This has been one strange weather phenomenon. Most people have been embracing it, but I can't help but think about how it's going to shift everything a little sideways!! (and no, I'm not just sulking because I didn't get snow for my birthday!) I see hearty tulip leaves striving for the sky on cue because that's what they do when they feel such warmth in the soil. But is it not a gross miscue? And what about our own ebbs and flows? So much of our schedules are governed by the seasons... as I was surveying my yard to see what else was awakening, my mind started to float towards end of school activities and then I reminded myself 'whoa... that's three months away yet!!' It's like anything else that happens in the universe - we have to just adjust to it - but it sure is the warmest birthday I've ever experienced, and that's even since leaving the land of the snow!

And speaking of birthdays, this one's mine. I emerged into this fabulously complex and wondrous world forty years ago today and I am blissfully comfortable with taking the elevator up to the next decade. I am content with the knowledge that I become stronger and more adventurous with every year of experience that I've amassed and I insist that this just doesn't happen if you're longingly stuck in decade number two! 

At the very least, one's birthday is an easy way to gather together some of those beautiful people you adore the most in the world and proceed to paint an already colourful town red. Because, you know, red's a great colour!!

So on that note, I leave you with some of my favourite images along with some of my thoughts on enjoying life:

Wine barrel at Inniskillin Estate Winery, Niagara-on-the-Lake

See things in a new way.

Steam Whistle Brewing at the Roundhouse - Toronto

Give in to your cravings.

Gooderham Building - Toronto

Seize every opportunity to cross things off your list.

Avalon Drive from Cabot Crescent - Labrador City, NL

Revel in where you came from.

Icewine Festival - Niagara-on-the-Lake old town

Become a tourist in your own backyard.

Child number two! Signal Hill, NL June 2009

Take time to inspect the dandelions.

Child number one! Heartland Forest - Niagara Falls, ON May 2011

Delight in nature's little miracles.

The Godiva store in Times Square NYC 2010

Indulge in all the deliciously good things in life!

Cheers!

~ Christine Mastroianni

Chilling after visiting the Icewine Festival

Niagara-on-the-Lake, ON

January 22, 2012

I had been very clear on the fact that it was going to be a grown-up event, not the sort of festival that sells nests of cotton candy and welcomes little sock feet into inflatable castles. We were going to linger at portable wine bars, sample weird food, and talk to other adults. I reminded them several times that I could make arrangements for them to go somewhere and play. Despite the insistence of tedium, both of my boys declared they wanted to come along, just to see what it's like... perhaps also to demystify what makes an event a "grown-up event."

I think the mental preparation paid off because there wasn't much in the way of coat pulling or sibling infractions or vocal vexations. They were curious about all the different kinds of chili (because Mom only makes the one kind) and enthralled by the ice sculptures: impossibly smooth, frozen depictions of winery estates and cleanly chiselled text in letters of both blocks and scrolls.


As I watched their gloved, and later ungloved, hands slide along the flat, frozen surfaces of the sculptures, I pondered whether I had even mentioned to them that there would be such attractions. But given the ridiculously tepid January we'd been having, I decided that this one little nugget of interest might not even materialise! So it wound up being an unexpected highlight for them - a quiet study in textures and temperatures and talent.


After enjoying the tented alfresco bistros, we made our way to Simcoe Park, my ten-year-old with his portable chess board slung over his right shoulder. It was his idea to bring it along in hopes that we might be able to play it somewhere. I had originally envisioned that being the distraction that would allow us adults to peruse the icewine bars, but as it turned out, we all settled into the shelter of the park's wooden bandshell and had ourselves a little tournament! It was the perfect arrangement: playing chess outdoors in the winter sunshine, breathing in fresh, brisk air, sipping Balzac's rich hot chocolate... with no mention from anybody of any desire to be somewhere else...

Chicago's Crown Fountain by Jaume Plensa

(A little summer fun for all of my heat seeking comrades out there!)

A colleague of mine was in Chicago recently on business, and this prompted discussion about some of the aspects of this dynamic city amongst a couple of us who had been there. There was mention of the mesmerising sculpture Cloud Gate (see my entry made August 5, 2010) and the brilliant bandshell Jay Pritzker Pavillion (my entry of August 21, 2010). And how about those two towering video screens that displayed people's facial expressions and periodically spewed water out onto those frolicking about on the splashpad.

This prompted me to revisit the pictures from my trip back in the summer of 2010. Upon reviewing the meagre imagery that I shot at this location, I am disappointed that I didn't shoot more... more faces, more activity... from varying angles and heights. But then I recall that it was absolutely sweltering on this July day, and the city devouring and museum absorbing events that preceded visiting this locale were extreme both in energy expediture and in geographical coverage. At this point, it took everything I could muster just to raise my camera to my eye!

Still photography doesn't really do this creation justice: these faces aren't static images, they are video clips which actually portray random likenesses of local Chicagoans (nearly a thousand of them, as I've learned). Imagine knowing your neighbour or your buddy could appear on that big screen at any time! And it gets even better: some of the images portray people pursing their lips which coincides with the eruption of water from fountains installed inside... imagine a kid being able to see a 50 foot tall video of his face spitting water out onto all the people playing there!!! This sort of thing doesn't just happen in any city, folks...

View from CN Tower

"You see, boys, the world looks much different from up here."

Robin Williams as John Keating in Dead Poet's Society

My kids would talk about wanting to go up in the CN Tower on occasion, even going as far as to state they would stand on its glass floor, but I knew it was just aimless proclamation. We had once attempted to visit the Skylon Tower (and venture higher than its midway game level!) but my oldest held back and admitted that he was too nervous to go to the top, so we both knew that the CN Tower was out of the question. Talk about being aware of your limitations!

It was in May of 2009 that we finally let one of those famous yellow pods whisk us up the 775 feet to the top of the Skylon. The experience of looking down at Niagara Falls and other familiar venues in this illustrious city proved to incite excitement, not trepidation, so I knew they'd be fine going even higher up.

So three months later, on a molten August afternoon, we ascended another 360 feet into Ontario's sky to drink in the sweeping view of Toronto. It proved to be a wonderful experience, right from the beginning. 2009 was the first year that the GO Train provided weekend service from Niagara Falls to Toronto so, as an alternative to driving to a city which was, at that time, relatively unfamiliar to me, we parked at the St. Catharines Via Station and I got to sit back and relax the whole way!

The lineup to secure a spot in one of this tower's pods felt as long as its ascension. I was slightly annoyed at myself for failing to anticipate this... with minimal diversion paraphernalia, it proved to be the only taxing portion of the whole trip. I don't remember exactly how taxing... I just recall that it was a long time for little people to stand in one spot and wait their turn!

But I do remember the rush of wonder that befell their faces upon looking through one of those panes of glass. I was mesmerized myself, only having been up there once before when I was a teenager, so I can't imagine what it must have been like for children whose highest views were typically realised by climbing the steps of a playground slide! We sat at this spot for a long time, our eyes skipping along the tops of office buildings and following insect-like vehicles along ruler-like streets, and even bearing witness to an aerial proposal!

When we followed the steps up to the next level, however, the flame was abruptly extinguished as my oldest caught a glimpse of the glass floor. It was as if reality hit him and he became blazingly aware of how high we were actually standing! My youngest thought it was cool, and when he realised how nervous his brother was, it became even cooler! He sprawled out and looked up at us, which even made my legs a little jittery. The location of my feet in this picture illustrates how much of the the glass I allowed my feet to cover... I wasn't too comfortable with the imagery myself. But my oldest was done. It was suddenly time to go! I guess sometimes the excursion out of our comfort zone is best experienced through a window that is in a position that is familiar to our eyes!

A Vine Weevil checking out Signal Hill

St. John's, Newfoundland

When I contemplate summer's flame flickering its final breaths of vitality, I realise there are two aspects of this occurence that saddens me. And only two: the hibernation of my pedicure and the demise of the bug community.

I don't think I have to elaborate on the first item in any great detail..donning airy footwear that doesn't pinch at the backs of my heels or smother my painted toes continues to be one of summer's great carefree benefits. And I do miss it when I have to envelop my tootsies in cotton and thrust them into rigid walls of leather until springtime.

The second aspect of summer's end affects me pretty significantly, albeit somewhat indirectly. I personally do not have an affinity for six legged creatures.. I can coexist with them but I don't necessarily need to know they exist. I don't want them to feast on my appendages nor do I desire to share my home with them. I appreciate their quiet tendancies as well as the fact that they are two legs short of an arachnid.. but their absence has never caused a void in my life.

Then I had kids. My fourth grader is and always has been one with the bugs: Bug Lover, Bug Hunter, Bug Protector... his title evolves as he grows. And being incessantly curious and enthralled about the little beings, the onslaught of winter induces aggravating, endless, persistant boredom! Without day to day participation in the activities of nature's smallest tennants, he has minimal desire to venture outdoors at all. "But Mom.. there's no nature in winter!!!" he stresses.

Which induces aggravation for me, being vehemently enthralled about winter and all!!!

I admit I feel excited when I spot something that one just doesn't see every day.. even if it is vicariously. My son is proud to remind me that this phenomenon now even extends to spiders! (I'm proud of that as well but I still don't intend to allow one to graze my skin or clothing!) I will call him over upon discovering something crawling along a wall or fence. I'm excited about his passion, even when we are knee-deep in intermission. 

I consulted with him to obtain the name of the little guy, above, puttering along the rock wall that surrounds the Cabot Tower in Newfoundland! My son loves it when he gets to teach me things, and I think he's pleased to have been instrumental in today's posting because without identification, it would still be tucked away in my Drafts.

The pull of the ocean.

Chapel's Cove, Newfoundland

June 2011

Something magical happens at the ocean's fringe. You feel its pull and its monumental strength, even as your feet remain dry. Common knowledge is burnished away.. you struggle to recite everyday facts such as your address or the current day of the week. Such details matter little here. You brain becomes refreshingly aired out, allowing your thoughts to flow freely in and out of your mind as opposed to taking up valuable cerebral real estate. Your breath is drawn in deeper and your eyes are focusing on the horizon or not at all. It's just a blissful state in which to be immersed. The only questions on your mind are 'how far can you throw'.... who can hit that block of driftwood first'.... 'how many waves come in between the really big ones?'.... (by the way, the consensus is seven)

It always intrigues me how content and occupied my boys are while standing upon a Newfoundland beach - far removed from the familiar faces of their peers and the usual double screened electronic stimulants. This is part of the marine magic I mentioned a few lines back. It is relieving not only to see them enjoying themselves in such a natural and unrestricted, undefined environment, but to learn that such a phenomenon is even possible. (Okay I exaggerate a little, but it is still wholly and genuinely refreshing!!)

The beach in this photo is the only sandy beach I think we've visited.. at least in a long time. The ones near my parents' home in Conception Bay are abundantly occupied by orbed geological inhabitants of varying shades of grey and copper = lots of rocks, no visible sand. I think this granular expanse was a bit of a treat for us all because any discoveries of beached beings were readily visible and easily retrievable. A large yellow bucket became a secure tote for green nubby shards of sea urchins, perpetually positioned starfish, and salmon-hued crab legs either orphaned or still attached to a shell body. It was a cornucopia of irresistable maritime trinkets that would eventually make the three hour flight to Niagara, surprisingly intact, and occupy a prominent space on a family bookshelf.. just a few steps away from the equally entertaining electronic stimulants.

I had heard about something called a Screaming Tunnel years ago and always retained the understanding that I would never ever feel the need to visit a place that warranted such a title.

But luckily, the bite of the photography bug stuns my hesitation and I usually find myself sliding my fears into my back pocket while in pursuit of the picture (see August 8, 2010 entry for further proof of this)

So I was feeling adventurous one afternoon and upon the urging of my work colleagues, I made up my mind to at least drive up to this notorious limestone passageway and witness it firsthand. In all fairness, I should confess that I didn't undertake this little spelunking expedition solo; I brought my nine-year old son along with me...... because, well, you know, he had heard of it as well and was interested in seeing it and it wouldn't have been nice to go somewhere cool like that without him....... yeah.. that's why!

I had googled the route, which was much more straightforward than I'd thought, and after making the final turn in its direction, the Screaming Tunnel's existence could not have been more visible if it had been flanked with streamers and had an assembly of balloons frolicking at its entrance! I shuddered at its nearness and continued driving forward to the cul-de-sac where I paused a moment before turning around and putting my vehicle into park directly in front of it. If phase one was driving to its doorstep, phase two was walking up and knocking on its door... so to speak.

My son thought it looked cool, but was disappointed at how shallow it was. I think we had both expected that it would be a longer, darker pathway, a tunnel so deep that it escaped from the light and kept its exit eerily out of view. He jumped out and motioned for me to follow him. He expressed only a moment of hesitation at its entrance before bounding forward, calling me and reminding me that it's not so scary after all and would I get out of the jeep already!! I obliged and stepped slowly towards the looming archway. 

Earlier in the day, at the comfort of my work cubicle, I would never have thought I'd actually walk through, but here I was at the fifth hour, penetrating its infamously haunted air and walking breathlessly towards the exit! Phase three.. check! I took pictures of my vehicle from the other side as proof that I'd actually walked through and I shot several at each entrance but I shot nothing from directly inside.. because that would have required my STOPPING while inside!! But it was an interesting spot, just the sort of historical construction that I love to photograph, and it felt good to conquer my fear.. especially when I was so sure earlier that I would never be able to do it.

I have personally chosen not to delve into the legends and lore of this steadfast underpass in my blog, but if you would like to rattle your creepy bone a little bit, here is a link just for you:
http://www.ghostwalks.com/14_niagara_screamingtunnel.html

A Day of One's Own

You know how some people, on the day that commemorates their birth, pretend that that particular day is not surrounding them, and instead quietly hold their breath until it's over, until they can tear away their page-a-day reminder that they have become a year older? I wonder if these are the same people who impatiently count down five days of every week, merely existing and plodding through the motions until they have gleefully arrived at the two that makes them want to devour life, only to dread starting the agonising process all over again on Monday?

Well I am neither of these people! While I ardently, intentionally or unintentionally, derive some form of pleasure from each and every one of my days, I thoroughly enjoy my birthday, the day of me. I have been thinking about it all week, deciding that just because it is my birthday, I am just going to do whatever makes me happiest: savour some decadently dark chocolate in the afternoon, spend a lunchhour meandering around Winners in pursuit of something stimulating, share the happiness that I feel for life with a fellow Aries.... but then I realised that I pretty much do things like this all the time! 

So, just because, I thought it would be fun to share a few of my thoughts on how to enjoy life.... Christine style:

Seek out the little details and revel in them.

Perched in a doorway of the Anglican Church of the Redeemer on Bloor Street, Toronto       

Unabashedly indulge in that which causes you to smile from the inside out.

Holt Renfrew window display, Bloor Street, Toronto

Marvel in your body as it exists.

 

Regularly and unapologetically surrender
to the whims of your passions.

 




Seize any opportunity

to revisit your childhood home.



Labrador City, Newfoundland. May 1992



Frequently contemplate your surroundings.



    

Behave like an enthralled tourist,

whether vacationing or not.

But vacation often.



Whitehall Subway Station, Manhattan

 

Relish each and every occurence of your birthday!

My Grandmother, August 2000



Port Colborne, Ontario

 

© Christine Mastroianni, all rights reserved                   

Children have no past and future. Thus they enjoy the present - which seldom happens to us.

- Jean De La Bruyere

I know it isn't summertime and I am therefore clashing with the season by posting this pic, but I am sure most of you viewing this are okay with being momentarily transported to warmer, lazier days. (Pause to feel the sultry sun caressing your cheeks.........)  I happen to love winter, and am also content with being on the brink of spring, so I'm not desperately longing for the mugginess of summer. I think in all honesty I was just in the mood to post a sweet picture of feet!

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon and we were visiting the stunning botanical creation of a photographer friend of mine - the perfect summer destination for my two curious little men. They were enthralled by the flurry of minute pond creatures that must have been skimming right over their submerged fingers..... seeking out darting damselflies as they teasingly hovered over the aquatic vegetation. I love how children can truly enjoy the moment in which they are currently breathing... they care not about what time it is, fuss not about getting dirty, worry not about whether there are spiders potentially lurking between the planks below them. (All things that I would probably be contemplating were I in this position!!!)

When I look at this picture, I remember a relaxing afternoon spent beneath a gazebo, kicking back and catching up with my good friend.. it was just a great day! The weather was wonderfully warm, not too humid or breezy, and I was revelling in the notion that this was the only real requirement of my day. I was quite conscious of this fact: treating it as a fleeting escape from all of my responsibilities. The simple fact of being removed from my own domesticated environment meant that I was physically unable to combine pairs of sports socks or remove lunchtime's spaghetti sauce from my dishes...I could just sit and breathe and talk. And enjoy it.

But my kids weren't revelling or relaxing or thinking about any of these things at all.  They were lying at the water, smiling as minute pond creatures skimmed over their submerged fingers, seeking out darting damselflies as they hovered over the vegetation.

Wintermission at Firemen's Park, Niagara Falls, ON

                                                                                                   © Christine Mastroianni, all rights reserved

We veered into the glacial parking lot, our determined tires wavering and swimming through the densely packed snow, putting our trusty four-wheel drive system solidly to the test. The air was crowded with pristine snowflakes.. frosty feathers fluttering happily in the late afternoon breeze before coming to rest upon naked elm branches and seasonally abandoned swing seats. But it wasn't at all cold, it was pleasantly winter: fresh, agreeable, lively.

Upon retrieving two plastic toboggans and closing the hatch, I waded towards the achromatic hill behind two little guys who were bursting with innocent energy. They strode forward in anticipation, evidently oblivious to the impending downsides of going sliding: the periodic sting of cold snow against warm, exposed wrists and calves, the occasional assault of iced powder against the face upon reaching the bottom of the slope, and trudging uphill yet again with a plastic monstrosity pressed against the back, seemingly to have doubled in weight since the first run! Nope, they just wanted to slide... just as it should be!

I surveyed the modest incline and wondered if this could really be the big thrill ride that had been so heartily recommended to me over the past few snowy weeks. I decided that there must be another hill hiding somewhere around the park, but subsequently decided that it wasn't worth expending the energy to locate it. This one was perfect in their eyes, and I gleefully spent the next hour securing bright blue and green vessels against the slick launchpad, steadying them for embarking, then synchronising their release so as to ensure a fair race!

Eventually, however, some of the aforementioned consequences took their toll and one of them remembered that a tall, shiny thermos had made the trip with us. "Hot chocolate!!!!" he shrieked, and led the charge back to the parking lot. They patiently (okay, okay.. somewhat impatiently!) took turns cradling the inverted thermos cap with snow covered mittens, savouring the smooth, warm chocolate as its sweet smelling steam swirled against their flushed cheeks.. one of the definite upsides of going sliding!

The Beach at Conception Bay

Just skipping along on one massive stretch of Canada's frame as it is kissed by the ocean again and again. Navigating this geological carpet certainly tests your balance, and like anything, the more you do it, the more deft an adventurer you become. The rocks along the grass are much larger and more fickle than the ones at the shoreline, particularly where they peak, as in this photograph, increasing the possibility of a slip.

I like looking at a picture I've taken and not being able to distinguish what I like best about it. For example, do I like this one for the magnificent cloud formations against the contrasting blueness? Is it the spirited silhouette becoming one with the brooding rocks? Is it the successful use of the rule of thirds?

I took a similar picture, but with more of the rocks than the sky, and I enjoy this one more. So I suppose with that, I have answered my own question!

© Christine Mastroianni, all rights reserved

Warning: If you are afflicted with arachnaphobia, as I am, you will not appreciate my posting the next photograph. "But wait", you are thinking, "how does a person consumed with fear in the presence of a spider maintain the composure required to focus on one?" A valid question and one that renders me equally curious for the answer since it amazes me that I am able to do it.

I credit my increasing tolerance for the eight legged community to my son who is enthralled by insects of any denomination and not only enjoys watching them, but spends his energy protecting them. This means that the barbaric act of reducing a spider to two dimensions is out of the question. Now when I encounter an invader, I've learned to stand back as my philanthropic son captures it and releases it into greener pastures. I also learned to allow these creatures to spin webs (outdoors of course) and even to watch them on occasion - they really are magnficent creatures.

These days, I approach it as a challenge to see if I can photograph one and consider it a personal accomplishment if I am successful. Besides, I know that if I present an image such as the one below, I am a cool Mom. So you see... incredible feats become more credible once you understand what drives them!

© Christine Mastroianni, all rights reserved

By the way, this was an assembly temporarily collected in my son's bug container. The spider had quickly made a web, and was brave enough to check out his rather large roommate when I grabbed my camera. Rest assured that no creatures were harmed in the making of this photograph - including the spider! They were all released into a conservation area and left to fend for themselves.. as nature intended.

I took another photograph of these steps, just one picturesque facet of Bowring Park in St. John's, Newfoundland, without a subject. It depicts a location that is serene, rustic, and quiet. But toss in a pint sized being on a mission and it becomes a completely different sort of image. Now when I look at my original photo, I can't get past the thought that there's something missing!

So what do you think about him?

Is he reaching new heights? Climbing the kindergarden ladder? Forging out on his own and seeking new experiences?

Is this his maiden voyage to the top of this hill or is this the eleventh time he's run up and down around and up again? How many times will he make the trip before deciding he's done it enough? Does he also run down or just up?

How would you describe him? Curious? Brave? Defiant? Is he running away or running towards something?

Is he getting exercise? Getting tired? Getting his way?

Does he make you want to find out what's up there?

© Christine Mastroianni, all rights reserved

I held his warm feet in my hands..

© Christine Mastroianni, all rights reserved

I held his warm feet in my hands, caressing their silky soft skin with my thumbs. They were so alive, dancing in my hands, spirited, and unapologetically filthy! His soles were coated with dust and crumbs, evidence of his unkempt mommy. But Mommy wasn't really unkempt, just a little behind in her house cleaning today.

He squealed as I touched him a little too lightly and unwittingly tickled him. I smiled and started to tickle him intentionally. He laughed and glowed, his hands banging on the highchair tray in delight, sending more crumbs floating to the floor. Where they would probably sit until later tonight. Unapologetically.