Engaging Eclipse!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Solar eclipses – partial and full — do not come around that often, so it is a novelty to observe them. I vividly remember two that I actively witnessed – one in high school, and the other in 1990 while I was working with a surveyor. For today, May 20^th, 2012, I was ready for the partial one we could see here in Calgary. I watched a Youtube clip last night, to find out how to make a pinhole camera so that my family could witness the event. The eclipse was at its peak at 7:14 p.m., and we were out for that. The veiled sun shone through the box’s pinhole, poked through a piece of foil, and the image of the eclipse shone upon the white screen (a simple rectangle of white paper) at the other end of the box. It was so, so emphatically engaging to watch the image of the phenomenon through the viewing hole. Around the peak time, the sunlight was muted, providing a surrealistic atmosphere. This spectacle was extra special because I think our children will remember this day for their lifetimes, each time they witness a solar eclipse.

Duck Eggs!

Look at these beautiful duck eggs, which my son found beside the water in Big Hill Springs Provincial Park! I was sincerely grateful that nobody who was around did anything to disturb them. I hope the ducklings stand a chance, but am not holding my breath because the nest is right across from a picnic area. It was a lovely day out at the park, with plenty of sunlight and budding trees. Seeing the nest was a really nice way to end the hike we had in the pristine surroundings.

Treasure

Six months ago, on a brisk October day, James and I concealed a jam jar filled with treasures under some stones on Nose Hill. We also piled up some branches, trying not to make it too obvious that we had hidden the item. From time to time, he mentioned the hoard and wondered what was happening to it in the cold and snow. Today was the big day, to find out if the treasure was still there or if it had been plundered. It turned out that someone, or some creature, had uncovered the jar but the items were still inside – a beaded model elephant from India, a souvenir from Taiwan’s National Museum of Marine Biology and Aquarium, a miniature Eiffel Tower, a mutant marble, a plastic ring and an elastic band. After we collected the treasure jar, we went onto a nearby gravel pile and did some cloud watching.  I felt so lucky to be able to share this experience with my son.

SNOW, AGAIN? AHHHHHHH!

Snow, AGAINNNN???!!! AHHHHHHHHH, NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! It was about a year ago that I wrote ‘Dismal Doggerel’, after stomping around in funereal snow. The nasty joke is over, please send in better weather. Yes, I know that Anglophones tend to focus conversations on the elements, and there are heaps of complaints about Chinooks (migraines, mood-swings, fatigue, insomnia, nightmares, etc.) and the seemingly never-ending dismal winter, but, damn it, I’ve had my fill of winter too. Why should I wake up today, on April 15^th, and see snow drifting down? Go somewhere else, and come back next November! The first snowfall of the year is magical but then it starts to get old along with the dead, brown crispy grass. Another thing, there is nowhere near Calgary to escape this onslaught of brown hills, inexorable snow, stony wind and dreary skies when one lives in here – perched on the margin of the foothills and the grasslands. It is the same, or worse, in all directions of the compass. I don’t care if this frustration is illogical, or whatever, I just want to see some green grass and to, once more, hear the enchanted trill of a meadowlark. Even a roar of swamp frogs would go over well. More grumping, I still haven’t seen a crocus peep out! Where are they? Quitters? I look forward to seeing some greenery, to see the trees in flower. I would rather have the seasonal allergies to tree pollen than endure the chilly tomb-like existence anymore. I hope that, wherever you are, you are getting nicer WEATHER than here, in frenetic Calgary – city of the people-who-show-little-outward-emotion-because-that-ain’t-fittin’, yep. Don’t get too friendly, we’re cold.

Sacred Canada Geese

When I was an innocent teenager, I had the opportunity to ride my pony down to a slough south of where I grew up. While by the placid waters, I dismounted and appreciated the musty cool smells and the clear silence.  A pair of Canada Geese gracefully glided down, not perceiving a threat as I was on the other side of the horse from them. As I watched the majestic pair interact, it was very special. For about a half an hour, I saw how intelligent the creatures were, and, knowing that they mate for life, was grateful I had never shot one while out hunting at the slough. I am still thankful that I never shot a Canada Goose, and was overjoyed today to see a pair in Confederation Park in Calgary, Alberta, Canada. They were regal, amongst the sundry smaller ducks. My son fed the pair, as they shooed the ducks away with menacing body language. The experience made me appreciate how much the world has changed in my lifetime, and how important it is to preserve these wonderful beings. Since I was born, the Earth’s population has more than doubled. In my youth, there was no lack of wildlife on the land, the rivers were full of fish, people were less materialistic and there was no global warming. Seeing the geese was a noble reminder that we need to make clearer efforts to save our world.

Silence and Presence

Today, I went to visit a special, sacred stone that I have frequented for over forty years. It is a limestone boulder that was left on top of a hillside in the last ice age. After walking up through sighing aspens, I sat upon the stone and gratefully looked west to the surreal snow-capped Rocky Mountains. The chilly wind abated, and, for a rare and pleasant few minutes, I got to experience muffled silence. I cleared my mind and focused on what I could sense. It was a timely break from a world of earthly commitments and I lay down on the stone so I could watch the clouds morph about. I then started to remember a day in the late spring of 1972, when my father and I hiked up to the stone. We had been hurling homemade boomerangs, and raced up the hill to see who could first touch the boulder. I do not remember who won the contest, but the feelings and images of that time are so vivid in my mind – how wonderful it was to share it with my father, who was so kind and full of stories that day. I sat up on the stone, and wished he could have been with me there, but then knew he always would be. Next, I remembered using the stone for a place where I kept a collection of cow, horse and deer bones. Boys collect all sorts of things like that, and I was fascinated by them. I wondered about the history of the boulder, and if ancient aboriginals had lain upon it like I was doing. The stone is timeless, and its energy is eternal. Every creature that comes to it is just a fleeting presence. After I had felt such a wonderful sense of peacefulness and connection to the place, I stood up tall to view my surroundings. From the stone, one can view four of Alberta’s natural regions – the mountains, foothills, some parkland and, in a gap between low-angle thrust faults (lower foothills), grasslands can be seen in the far eastern distance. I hopped down, expressed gratitude to the stone, and went back down the hill path in a far more present and conscious state of being.

Snow Angel ‘E’ Words

My snow angel is. . . .

Eternal

Enthusiastic

Engaged

Excited

Energetic

Enigmatic

Entertaining

Effusive

Eminent

Equable

Expressive

Existential