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