Each Night A Luster

Kindle the taper like the steadfast star ablaze on evening's forehead o'er the earth, and add each night a luster till afar an eightfold splendor shine above thy hearth. ~ Emma Lazarus

So we're a little past the holiday season and as usual, I'm behind in posting my photos. I hope you'll bear with me as I share images from the the eight nights of Hanukkah. A few photos from a recent day trip to Mississauga will be sprinkled in with them.

On Hanukkah, the first dark night, light yourself a candle bright. I'll you, if you will me invite, to dance within that gentle light.

~ Nicholas Gordon

First Night: The menorah is all set to share the scene with a small Christmas tree in the background and a bottle of wine closer at hand.

Bare branches of each tree

on this chilly January morn

look so cold so forlorn.

Gray skies dip ever so low

left from yesterday's dusting of snow.

Yet in the heart of each tree

waiting for each who wait to see

new life as warm sun and breeze will blow,

like magic, unlock springs sap to flow,

buds, new leaves, then blooms will grow.

~ Nelda Hartmann

Beautiful Lake Wabukayne. My son, Alex and I took a tour around my old neighbourhood. This was the small lake in Mississauga where I spent countless hours photographing creatures of all kinds - just steps from my old door. We were in town for a family Hanukkah party and had a bit of time to kill. What better way than to take a walk around the paths of our past?

Better to light a candle than to curse the darkness. ~Chinese Proverb

Second Night: Night number two landed on Christmas. Alex was with me and you can see that plates were piled high with turkey, potatoes and other goodies. Wine and gravy each wait their turn to be poured, and a wine goblet makes a nice home for my spiced orange flavoured cranberry sauce.

I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape - the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn't show. ~ Andrew Wyeth

Here's a new addition to my old surroundings. Many of the trees around the lake have acquired bird houses. That should help encourage nesting for the winged lovelies.

Put on your yarmulke, Here comes Hanukkah! So much funukah, To celebrate Hanukkah! ~ Adam Sandler

Third Night: Hanukkah humour to tickle the funny bone. Both cards came from neighbours.

The trees down the boulevard stand naked in thought,

Their abundant summery wordage silenced, caught

In the grim undertow; naked the trees confront

Implacable winter's long, cross-questioning brunt.

~ D. H. Lawrence

My beautiful trees, still standing sentry for those who walk the paths of Wabukayne. I have photographed this spot so many times - in every season.

The darkness of the whole world cannot swallow the glowing of a candle. ~ Robert Altinger

Fourth Night: Reminders of dragonflies in summer - and an owl that doesn't give a hoot which season we're in.

The Winter frowned

Its icy eyebrows

~ Florentin Smarandache

There are far better seasons to stop and sit.

A candle is a small thing. But one candle can light another. And see how its own light increases, as a candle gives its flame to the other.

You are such a light. ~ Moshe Davis

Fifth Night: This fan belonged to my maternal Grandmother. It adorns a window ledge along with other keepsakes - a tiny set of brass goblets and decanter from my mother, tea candle holders and an old oil can from yard sales.

In the bleak midwinter

Frosty wind made moan,

Earth stood hard as iron,

Water like a stone;

Snow had fallen, snow on snow,

Snow on snow,

In the bleak midwinter,

Long ago.

~ Christina Rossetti

I'm so grateful that I have the opportunity to revisit my beautiful oasis, from time to time.

Now, near the Winter Solstice, it is good to light candles. All the nice meanings of bringing light to the world can be beautiful. But perhaps we are concentrating on lighting the world because we don't know how to light up our own lives. ~ Ralph Levy

Sixth Night: A different window ledge and a small collection of turquoise and blue.

I please myself with the graces of the winter scenery, and believe that we are as much touched by it as by the genial influences of summer.

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

The Spindle berries were only beginning to fade around the edges. They keep their colour so beautifully through the earlier part of winter.

Most Texans think Hanukkah is some sort of duck call. ~ Richard Lewis

Seventh Night: Once again the tree makes its appearance in the background and a couple of birds enjoy the glow of the almost-full menorah.

It is deep January. The sky is hard.

The stalks are firmly rooted in ice.

It is in this solitude, a syllable,

Out of these gawky flitterings,

Intones its single emptiness,

The savagest hollow of winter-sound.

~ Wallace Stevens

A solitary milkweed pod soaking up some of the winter afternoon sunlight.

Colourful candles burning bright, each lit on eight very special nights. ~ Unknown

Eighth Night: This is the first year that I can remember being home for all eight nights of Hanukkah. On this final evening, I am glad to be able to share the kindling of the candles with all of you. Thank you for joining me for this season of light - here on the blog and in Facebook.

More winter photos coming up before you can say "Jack Frost."

Flowers, Foliage and Friends

Every now and then I have a bunch of photos left on my hard drive which never got posted in their time. These were taken during my last couple of weeks living at my old home. The weather stayed warmer there and flowers lasted longer than they did up here. It was as if summer had lived on when everywhere else had turned to autumn.

So enjoy a reprieve of the season with these summer-like images before yet another snowfall arrives. There's a big one due today.


When forsythia are in bloom, we usually know that spring has finally arrived. This typically occurs in April or May. The unusual thing about this particular plant is that it was photographed in partial bloom on the 17th of October. Don't try telling the blossoms or ants that they're out of season. It doesn't appear that they would believe you anyway.






The spindle berry is one flower which is at its peak during the autumn season. This bud is green throughout the summer and slowly turns pink in early autumn. It eventually splits open to reveal the bright orange berry which fades very slowly throughout the winter. You can often see the orange seed wearing a snowy winter coat well into February. Right now, in this October 29th image, they're at their colourful prime.






One of my favourite wildflowers it chicory. Its brilliant blue petals contrast nicely with the autumn leaves behind it. This too, was near the end of October.






Pretty pink flowers which kept blooming late into October at a local butterfly garden.






Maple leaves shine brilliantly against the deepening blue sky.






Another sweet yellow October holdout.







And the sunflower - a little worse for wear but always lovely from every angle.






One of my favourite vine-growers - the morning glory. I think I'll have to plant some of these next year.






Even flowers which have lost their petals can be lovely in autumn.







The mighty oak is especially beautiful in October.







A decorative cabbage catches the sunlight and produces a brilliant magenta glow.






I don't know what it's called but it's fluffy and wispy and it caught my eye.






Backlit by the sun, these leaves almost seem to be able to catch its fire.






A tiny ladybug making her way along the boards of the pond's dock. This was one of the last walks I took at my old place.






My ex-neighbour (that still tugs at the heart) and still-good-friend Caroline's house. I already miss our morning walks and chats and our weekend drinks and laughs. I think you're overdue for another visit up here, Caroline!

That's it for now. More coming up soon.

Fine Feathered Friends

“In order to see birds it is necessary to become a part of the silence.” 

~ Robert Lynd

Whether on the wing or at rest, birds are lovely to watch and fun to photograph. Since I've been doing just that the past several weeks, I'd like to share a few of those images below.


A while back, when I posted some pictures of spindle berries, my fine bloggie pal Suldog asked me if they were edible. I have to admit to not knowing that for sure at the time, though I suspected they were not, as the "berry" part is really more like a seed. I looked it up when responding to him and learned that they are edible for birds but rather poisonous for humans. Being one of the feathered variety, this Cardinal was checking them out a few days later.





Canada geese - relaxing, preening and doing a fair bit of pooping atop the dam of our local pond.





One of my favourite feathered friends is the Northern Mockingbird. He he is perched at the top of a dead tree by the pond. I'm also quite fond of that tree, and have posted images of it frequently.





Here's a closer look at this sweetie. It's not the best exposure or even his best side but I'm always happy to see and share him.






Ms. Mallard is showing off her lovely colours in the late day sunshine.






This little Downy Woodpecker was flitting about while I was out walking. It's not a great shot but after several attempts, I finally managed to capture it flying between the branches of this pine tree.





Much to my surprise, I snapped the photo of this hawk through the car windshield while Frank was driving.





Two ducks and a gull - the subjects of this photo are in shadow, but I still loved the colours in the trees and the reflection in the creek.





Over that same creek, you can see gulls flying around at most any time of day. This is a young one, who hasn't acquired his bright, white plumage yet.





This sweet, little sparrow almost faded into the similar colouring of the foliage. If you look closely, you can see a bit of red on his beak from nibbling hawthorn berries.





Last, but never least, the Great Blue Heron, after he had had enough of my incessant picture snapping. Sorry bud!

More photos in a few days.

When Every Leaf is a Flower

Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower. ~ Albert Camus

I've only made a couple of brief pit stops at home over the past two months. I've been spending most of my time at Frank's and some of that time up north as the search for a home continues. On one of my stops at home, I snapped a number of foliage and other photos. I hope you enjoy them.



Behind the houses across the street from my own is where I find these trees, along the park path. They look lovely in any season but they're particularly pleasing to the eye in autumn.





Moving along the path, a bit closer toward home, the previous trees are behind me, and this is the view that Benny and I take in.





I like this view even better.





The dam usually attracts a fair number of ducks, geese, and the occasional heron, kingfisher and mink but just the mallards were hanging around on this day.





Though none were around at this time, this is a favourite spot for the herons. The Great Blue, Night and Green - they all visit whenever the water is not frozen over.





Frank and I couldn't help noticing that some maples are this brilliant yellow while others turn traditional (at least in terms of our own nation's flag) scarlet. We figure it's probably dependent on the kind of maple. Frank has a Red Maple which looks reddish in the spring, mostly green in summer and turns brown before losing its leaves in the fall. We'd love to have one that turns bright red in autumn.





This little red squirrel was watching me closely as I wandered around snapping photos.





Most of the Queen Anne's Lace have closed up shop for the winter. They still look quite pretty to me.





But there is the occasional rebel still clinging to summer.





One of my favourite autumn treats is the Spindle berry. It spends all summer as a green bud, growing slowly, fading into the surrounding foliage. When autumn arrives, it sports this brilliant pink colour just as some of the leaves begin turn red. The bud eventually splits open to reveal a vibrant orange seed. When all of the other colours of summer are fading, this wonderful plant comes into its own. The colours slowly fade throughout winter but they still offer a colourful contrast to snow well into the season.





Here's a small cluster of them after a rainfall.





Someone was tossing apple bits to the duck and these sweet mallard was enjoying hers very much. The peel almost makes her appear to be sticking her tongue out at us.





Shortly after a rainfall, browning leaves glisten in the newly-emerged sun.




Bright red Hawthorn berries contrast nicely against the orange leaves behind it.

More coming up sometime soonish.