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."

An Upside of Down

"No one can make you feel inferior without your consent." ~ Eleanor Roosevelt

Last week, on the bus, I saw a woman whom I found disturbing. As I watched her, she angered me, though my ire eventually dissolved into a sad awareness that her mental stability was most likely precarious at best. Clearly, she'd had a very difficult life - at least her last twenty years or so. I judged her current age to be late fifties to early sixties. After she paid her bus fair, she took her seat up at the front, opposite from, but close to the driver. She was speaking with irritation in her voice, and I thought she was still conversing with the bus driver, but he was not paying any attention to her.

I was sitting a few seats back, across the aisle. In front of me, was a young man in his late teens or early twenties. He spoke to her, and I realized that they were together. He was offering suggestions on how they would arrive at their destination on time for an appointment. He was encouraging her to consider transferring to a different bus at some point, rather than remain on this one. She scowled at him. "We can't take another bus. I only have two more tickets and we need them to go home."

He stood and walked over to her and tried to explain something. She told him to get away from her. When he sat back down, she berated him. "It shows how stupid you are. I can't walk in this cold and you want me to spend more time out there? It's all your fault that we're late anyway. You always make me late. Just wait until I tell (insert any of about four different names she used as the object of that threat)." And then I felt the icy fingers of her words grasp my own heart when she hissed "I should have put you in a group home."

The young man had Down syndrome, though from what I could tell, he was high-functioning, and he impressed me with how well he handled his mother. She never once threw him off-balance. He turned to the side and smiled at her. He told her that she didn't understand what he was trying to say, and his face showed subtle signs of amused superiority. Finally, he stood up, gently insisted that she show him her transfer and then pointed out the time stamp which would allow them to continue riding any bus for the next couple of hours. He named the bus line that he thought they should take next, and calmly continued to speak over her protests until she understood. The driver, who was now listening to their conversation concurred that his plan was sound.

She sat quietly for a few seconds and then continued her steady complaints about the weather, his tardiness and his intelligence. Perhaps his diminished intellectual capacity buffered his self-esteem from the onslaught of venomous words. Perhaps her own decreased mental ability was what triggered her tirades and gave her words malice. In any event, the boy appeared unaffected by her behaviour. On the way to his seat, her son shook his head, smiled and said "You see? Sometimes I am just smarter than you!"

I wanted to hug that boy.

Below are a few photos taken over the past week from before and during our recent thaw. Please remember to click on them to enlarge.



My backyard feeder has been filled countless times this winter - sometimes as often as three times a day, depending on the weather.This isn't a very sharp image, but I did like that I happened to catch this little bird as it was about to land.




At Frank's place, an early morning walk revealed a fresh snowfall, as a peek between these two trees would indicate. (please click to enlarge)




The bright morning sun created sharp shadows like this one of a cedar branch. (please click to enlarge)




More shadows from the cedars as they lean into early morning chitchat with one another. (please click to enlarge)




The creek was crisp, clear, cold and beautiful. (please click to enlarge)




On the opposite bank, at a bend where the water ran swift, small icicles had formed on the overhanging shelf of snow. (please click to enlarge)




The next day, we stopped the car on our way to take a look at a pretty little spot - one of Frank's favourite fishing holes of yesteryear. (please click to enlarge)




Back home again, the weather warms, and shoreline trees reflect in the melting pond. (please click to enlarge)




A subtle fog rises from the lake for a muted, smoky effect. (please click to enlarge)




Sun and shadow combine to create soft shades of blue, pale green and gray upon the icy thaw. (please click to enlarge)




Late in the day, the sun drops to meet the horizon and paints the landscape with golden warmth. (please click to enlarge)




Gilded pine needles absorb the sun, and glow with the promise of spring. (please click to enlarge)

The Depths of Winter

This year is beginning to seem like a repeat of the previous one. We've had a number of snowfalls so far but we probably have a way to go before we approach last year's records. Most of these photos were taken shortly after the most recent accumulation. A couple are from last winter. Please remember to click on each photo to enlarge it.

“There is still vitality under the winter snow, even though to the casual eye it seems to be dead” ~ Agnes Sligh Turnbull

I'm not sure how this plant looked in the warmth of summer, but you can still see where its flowers bloomed. (please click to enlarge)

"It's snowing still. And freezing. However, we haven't had an earthquake lately." ~ A. A. Milne from Winnie the Pooh

Most of the pond is frozen over, but the ducks work hard at keeping a small portion of it open throughout the winter. (please click to enlarge)

"Nature is full of genius...so that not a snowflake escapes its fashioning hand." ~ Henry David Thoreau

Just some snow on the bark of a tree - up close and personal. (please click to enlarge)

“Advice is like snow; the softer it falls, the longer it dwells upon, and the deeper it sinks into, the mind.” ~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Usually a welcoming site, this park bench was just a tad inhospitable after the snowfall. (please click to enlarge)





"The first fall of snow is not only an event, it is a magical event. You go to bed in one kind of a world and wake up in another quite different, and if this is not enchantment then where is it to be found?" ~ J. B. Priestley
I've posted photos of this spot before. The tree branch which extends over the pond catches my eye in all seasons. (please click to enlarge)

"The snow itself is lonely or, if you prefer, self-sufficient. There is no other time when the whole world seems composed of one thing and one thing only." ~ Joseph Wood Krutch

Here's the same tree as seen from its pond shore, further along the path. (please click to enlarge)

"Silently, like thoughts that come and go, the snowflakes fall, each one a gem." ~ William Hamilton Gibson

A small sprig of needles which fell from a nearby evergreen, partly buried in the snow. (please click to enlarge)

“Sunshine cannot bleach the snow, Nor time unmake what poets know” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

This Downy Woodpecker was partially obscured by a small branch. Photoshop is my friend. (please click to enlarge)

“There is nothing in the world more beautiful than the forest clothed to its very hollows in snow. It is the still ecstasy of nature, wherein every spray, every blade of grass, every spire of reed, every intricacy of twig, is clad with radiance.” ~ William Sharp

This one was actually taken last year, immediately following one of our many snowfalls. (please click to enlarge)

"When they looked out into the whiteness of the world the wind flung it sharply at their narrowed eyes and foreshortened their view of everything." ~ David Guterson from Snow Falling on Cedars.

Another one from last winter. (please click to enlarge)

“It snowed last year too. I made a snowman and my brother knocked it down and I knocked my brother down and then we had tea” ~ Dylan Thomas

I snapped this shot this morning from inside my kitchen. The little boy next door built this snowman a couple of weeks ago. It's still standing, clothed in hat and scarf, ready to greet passersby. (please click to enlarge)

Benny and Other Flakes

Walking and photography go hand in hand for me. I only need two hands to operate the camera but the challenge comes into play when Benny joins me. Now, ordinarily Frank handles the leash, and he endures the arm-jerks which signal Benny's desire to forge ahead. I can roll my eyes through his quickly-executed run-jump-tackle sequences which he does with all four paws when he's impatient and wants to move on, but his Herculean tugs and jolts make sharp pictures an impossibility. This past weekend, Frank wasn't feeling tip-top, so I was dog-walker and frustrated photographer rolled into one.

The snow poses yet another difficulty where Ben is concerned. When walking alongside me, he looks at every wayward bit of snow my boots kick up, as a contest. In his frenzied little doggie mind, he believes he has to consume each and every flake. So he hovers near my left foot, and watches each time it lifts a clump of snow. Then he pounces on the newly-landed white stuff, and devours it. That was how the first third of our walk went. Hover. Pounce. Devour.

The second third consisted of him shivering uncontrollably and stopping every three minutes to pee what appeared to be enough urine to overflow from an elephant's bladder. And yet he managed to repeat that shaky stream no less than three times over the next ten minutes. When he wasn't peeing, he was barfing. That crazy little pup was filled to capacity from one end to the other and his body did what it could to expel the volume of snow he ingested. Shiver. Pee. Barf.

During this same phase of our walk, I tried to distract him and keep him moving, so that he'd warm up. Benny can't resist a stick. If I have one in my hand, he wants it. He'll jump alongside me, trying to clamp his teeth down upon it. Once he gets it in his possession, he'll challenge me to come get it back, stick at his front paws, tail wagging, head cocked to the side and eyes locked on my hand. If I make a move toward it, he's off like a shot, prize in mouth. In fact, the only way to get it back from him is to find another. Once he sees the new one, he'll drop the first, leaving it forgotten while he tries to master a new conquest. I kept him occupied this way, occasionally allowing him to chase it down and trot along with his trophy. Jump. Chase. Trot.

On the final third of our walk, Benny had warmed up considerably. He was no longer shivering, and both his stomach and bladder seemed to be devoid of melted snow. This of course meant that he was ready to go back to hover-pounce-devour mode. The cold discomfort he suffered minutes earlier was already forgotten. Such is the nature of a terrier. Silly. Little. Twit.

Despite Benny's antics, I still managed to take a few shots of our snowy surroundings. Please remember to click on each photo to enlarge it.



Here's Benny, tromping through the snow, waiting and watching for when I take my next step so he can kill that clump of snow. His face is all frosty from this activity. (please click to enlarge)




The tree branches were weighted down by the snow but the tips of its pine needles glistened in the sunlight. (please click to enlarge)




There wasn't enough snow to disguise this recent branch break. (please click to enlarge)




There are many apple trees along the path. This one has seen better days but it's probably been sitting here since autumn. (please click to enlarge)




The pink pods of the Spindle tree have faded since autumn, but they still contrast strongly beneath their white caps of snow. (please click to enlarge)




Back at home, the fresh snowfall drew several Cardinals into my yard. This beautiful male watched me through the glass door - his mate partly hidden behind him. (please click to enlarge)




When the male moved to the feeder, I could see the female, looking inquisitive and bright. Despite her subdued colours, I think she's even more lovely than the male. (please click to enlarge)




More snow later in the day. I had seen the apple on one of the trees to the left of this path. (please click to enlarge)




Big, fluffy flakes. (please click to enlarge)




The only open water in the pond seemed to have a dull, pink-hued colour. I don't know what caused it but it cleared up by the next morning. (please click to enlarge)




The geese appeared quite unaffected. (please click to enlarge)