Tag: arc poetry

This Old Barn

There is something deeply nostalgic about old farm houses and barns.

From the moment you see their neglected lane-ways, now covered with wild grass and weeds with only a hint of the paths that lead the family home each day…to that next moment, as your eyes are drawn to the byres and ranches that have long since been forgotten.

That feeling of wistfulness for a place that I never knew….

I can imagine when this place was full of life….

Hard working families and children with chores, who have risen with the first sign of dawn to tend to their animals and fields of plenty. 

The family dog dutifully next to his master as he watches over his homestead, hands calloused, skin weathered and darkened through season after season, year after year of hardships and elation for the masterpiece of existence he has created.

I can imagine the home fires burning, smoke billowing out of stone hearth chimneys, dinner on the table as mama, the matriarch, calls her family home to her.

The laughter, telling of stories and adventures, everyone eager for their chance to share the happenings of their day, as the food that was harvested by the hands of the family is passed from one to another.

I can imagine as the children grew and began to pull from the roots that once grounded them, on to other quests, the draw of the city, the dream of something bigger or just different. 

Their aging parents slowly letting pieces of their homestead whither and age in time with themselves. The animals and fields either passed on or sold off, the homestead no longer a homestead.

The barns have aged, sun, rain and years of weather have transformed them into productions of art. Stunning reminders of what they once were.  Nature taking them back to the land  

This Old Barn

Thank you for reading

Live Love & Laugh

Catherine

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For My Love of Fall

Those last fall days, when you are walking down trails that are covered in multi coloured pine needles and fallen leaves. With smells so intense you find yourself taking one deep breath after another,  trying to capture every different scent deep within in your soul.

For me, this is my love of fall.

So quiet, just a whispering wind gently pulling leaves from trees crackling as they tumble down, enough to make you stop and listen in wonder of what is out there hidden  the trees. 

For me,  this is my love of fall

A chill in the air, the sun giving off its last bit of heat before it cools for the winter. The distant scent of a wood fire burning and the laughter of children playing. 

For me, this is my love of fall

Fall, when everything changes to give passage for what will become. 

For me, this my love of fall

Thank you for reading,

Live Love & Laugh, 

Catherine

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A Special Place I Call Home

A Special Place I Call Home

My special place, that I call home, for when I am there I feel more at home then anywhere.  I am far from family and friends, surrounded by strangers that do not seem strange or distant at all, but rather like long lost kin folk that I am sure my past spirits have known.

My special place that I call home where eagles soar in such abundance that I sit in awe and disbelief to be so blessed to live among them   Their calls to one another from tree top to tree top or the power of their wings as they fly at breakneck speed to pluck their prey from the sea.

My special place that I call home, watching shore birds do their rhythmic dance, sheets of white moving and flowing so in sync with one another, their reason for their frolic or the purpose to their moves I am not aware but I can imagine the timing of their dance with a symphony of music

My special place that I call home, staring out into the sea waiting for a glimpse of the mighty Orca,  but just as excited to see sea otters, seals and sea lions. I love the bark of the sea lion, sounding so grumpy as they roll along through the tides but having such silly grins on their faces.  as if they are amused at something only they can see.

My special place that I call home, following deer tracks as they show their path from bush to shoreline and back again. Perhaps they too like to watch the sunrise and sunset to reflect on their day as it ends and their morning as a new one begins.  

Waking and sleeping to the sounds of the waves, 

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from raging  pounding surf to calm lapping waters, the sounds lulling you to slumber but then rousing you with anticipation.

Every day, every moment something to see, to believe in, to remind me to live to breath to love to laugh.

My Special Place

Thank you for reading Live Love Laugh,

Catherine Deslippe

Life Imitating Nature

Decisions on life cloud my mind today just as the clouds take over the sky. Lakes and streams overflowing, mirroring the depths of human emotion

The heavy rains slow to a misty overcast ,  hovering in the layer of fog, the silhouette of lone coyote, a reminder of self preservation.

The rains let up ,  the clouds open to allow a sliver of sun, symbolic of possibility. Before they close back in again and torrential storms settle in

My storms, my thoughts, my day

Catherine

Rain

In the still of the rain we found some peace today. A week of stress and uncertainly gave way to playing in puddles. The air so crisp,  fresh and quiet and the presence of people absolutely nil.

Just Maggie and Me forgetting all the woes of the week, walking in wonder through raindrops.

So cold,  the rain teetering on the edge of turning to ice, laughing and running with reckless abandonment.

Remembering that life just is, people are just people and letting go every now and then is a must

Our day, our rain, our story

Catherine

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Taking a chance on the sun

The weather called for all day showers but Maggie and I had other plans so we demanded the sun to shine ….

 We saw a sliver of light on the horizon, our sign the universe had listened 

 While everyone was tucked away preparing for the expected wet day, we ventured out and were blessed with glorious moments 

 We saw rays hope and stole the moment …. we chased and followed the sun 

 Today was about merriment and marvel, it was about being silly and finding quiet 

 A great day to recharge, re energize and enjoy time my companion, my Maggie, my friend 

 To being silly and to finding the sun

 My Saturday, my Maggie, my story

Catherine

 

Is it Haunted here?

Is it Haunted here?  It opened in 1904 and was revered at the time as the asylum for the mentally and criminally insane. As medicine and research evolved over the years the name and the direction of the Riverview institute transformed into hospital that specialized in mental health issues, until it closed in 2012  

Let me take you back to the 1900″s.  Imagine this place perched high on a mountain side. With trees of all species that have never been logged, that have been here since birth. Such history in the pristine and raw forest.  Such strong forces of energy still at play all these year’s later

 Now imagine, still standing but crumbling, some of the original buildings that housed some of the most mentally ill people that were cast out from society

Witchery and barbaric methods thousands upon thousands of misfitted people locked away behind bars longing to touch what only their eyes beheld them through their windows

As I walk amongst the buildings, windows still barred holding in the spirits that walked the halls. I imagine the hand prints on grimy moss covered windows and the echoes of their screams and laughter as they struggled in their existence

This place is magical but eerie and haunting…. hairs stand on end as you peak through an open window to halls of emptiness but beauty in the building remains

Then out of nowhere a crack of thunder so loud we jump with fright followed by hard rains that send us the message we have over stayed our welcome move on now let us rest in the peace that we had longed for

My spooky Halloween 

Catherine

 

 

A Perfume Called Fall

Two of the greatest smells of all.

When you combine the smell of decaying leaves after a rain storm and campfires burning you have a collision of fall scents that awaken every sense of your being.

Taking deep breaths to try to take in as much of the aroma as possible hoping that if I hold it in, the smells will stay deep within my soul.

Bottle this and call it fall for these two smells can calm the most erratic mind and elevate mood to the point of elation

How is it that two means of ending, wood burning down to ashes and leaves decaying into dust can create such an alive feeling?

 Strange what nature has to offer, leaves, fire and life …. a perfume called fall

My Story My Fall

 Catherine

In awe of the fall

 There is something healing and energizing about sitting under a tree with the wind blowing through the bows just enough to drop pine needles and coloured leaves all around you, hiding out from the rain but still immersed in nature…..  Everyone has long since run indoors, even the chipmunks and squirrels have taken coverimg_6571.  But here we sit in awe of the sounds……

The birds have stopped chirping so the only echoes we hear now is the heavy rain as it picks up energy and moves through the trees The rhythm of drops that slip down between the branches, landing on exposed skin and rain jackets, one drop then two then a few more creating a steady beat,  a drumming sound

Listening with all senses the sounds of the rain, the wind through the trees the rhythm of escaped rain drops, a small miniature outdoor orchestra of music

 A sense of letting go, of releasing thoughts, worries and troubles if only for a moment….

The quiet and the peace, simply in awe of the fall

Catherine

The Road to Fall-September 17, 2016

 

Found high up in the BC mountain ranges it was sort of like driving right through a postcard.  Traveling on this narrow road with mountain ranges all around and steep valleys far below you feel vulnerable and exhilarated at the same time. Clutching the wheel as the car rounds curve after curve but also a sense of freedom,  of letting go with each new twist and turn.

 The scars of the mountainside seem visible today. A rock slide that has scraped the mountain clean of all trees but left one standing alone to carry on and start its own forest again and purple blackened colour of burnt forests left to decay and rebuild themselves.   And peaks and valleys, peaks and valleys one after another, after another each one leaving me speechless in their beauty.

 Fall winds that pull the leaves from branches, they swirl and twist in a whirl of colour all around a sense of peace and amazement. How do you capture this? 

 The sun peeking out, it s rays hitting the intense yellow leaves in just the right way causing the leaves to shimmer like thousands of tiny lights twinkling and then the moment is gone 

 The smells of this fall road fill all your senses.   The amazing smell of decaying leaves, fires somewhere in the distance and the earthy smell that accompanies this early fall.

 The colours on this road, dark evergreen with patches of bright yellow. A natural quilt of colour through the forest back drop 

 So many moments of awe, magnificent, unbelievable, calm, excitement, joy, elation and respect for this great province, this earth

This road, this fall, this story 

Catherine

    

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